Page 38 of The Silencer

As we pull up to the prison, Jer turns to me."Remember, we're here to gather information.Don't let him provoke you into saying or doing anything rash."

I nod, taking a deep breath to center myself."I've got this."

“I know,” he replies easily.His belief in me has never wavered.

Jer's connections get us in quickly and discreetly.Before I know it, we're being led to a private visitation room.And then, suddenly, he's there.

My father looks older than I remember, his hair grayer, his face more lined.But his eyes are the same—cold and calculating.He smirks when he sees me.

"Emmanuel," he says, his voice grating on my nerves."It's been a while."

I take a seat, fighting the urge to lunge across and wipe that smirk off his face."Cut the shit," I growl."What do you want?"

His smirk widens."Now, now.Is that any way to greet your old man?And who's your friend here?"

Jer steps forward, his presence calm but intimidating."I'm here to make sure this conversation stays civil.Now, I believe my colleague asked you a question."

My father's eyes narrow as he assesses Jer.Then he shrugs, leaning back in his chair."Fine.Let's get down to business then.I hear you've been busy, son.The Silencer, is it?Quite a reputation you're building."

I feel my blood run cold.He does know.But how?

"How did you get that information?"I demand.

He chuckles, the sound sending chills down my spine."I have my sources.The question is: what are you willing to do to keep that information from becoming public knowledge?"

I lean forward, my voice low and dangerous."If you think you can blackmail me?—"

"Blackmail?"he interrupts, feigning innocence."No, no.I want something, and if you don’t get it to me, I’ll let slip who the Silencer is.”

Rage unlike anything I’ve ever felt hits me.Fucking prick.“That’s never going to happen, Jacob.”

“What do you want?”Jer snarls.“What’s the something you want?”

I turn to look at him.He can’t be fucking serious?There’s no way in hell I’m giving him anything.He deserves nothing.

“I want the girl.”

My blood runs cold at my father's words."The girl?You mean Clodagh?"

He nods, a sick smile spreading across his face."That's right.I want to see her.Talk to her."

White-hot fury courses through me.I'm on my feet before I realize it, my chair clattering to the floor behind me."You sick fuck," I snarl."You think I'd ever let you near her again?"

Jer's hand on my arm is the only thing that stops me from lunging across the table."Emmanuel," he says quietly."Sit down."

I force myself back into my seat, my hands shaking with rage.My father watches me with amusement, clearly enjoying my reaction.

"Why?"I demand through gritted teeth."Why her?"

He shrugs, leaning back in his chair."Unfinished business, you could say.I never got to properly say goodbye."

The casual way he talks about Clodagh, about the trauma he inflicted on her, makes me feel physically ill.I glance at Jer, silently pleading for guidance.His face is a mask of calm, but I can see the anger burning in his eyes.

"That's not going to happen," Jer says firmly."The girl is off-limits.Period."

My father's eyes narrow."Then I suppose I'll have to start talking.I wonder how your colleagues at The Agency would feel knowing they have a murderer's son in their midst?Or how about the guards here?I'm sure they'd be very interested to know what little Emmanuel has been up to."

"You do that," I say, my voice cold, "and I'll make sure everyone knows exactly what you did to Clodagh and her family.Every sick, twisted detail.How do you think your fellow inmates would treat a child killer?Or better yet, I can slip in false information.Your inmates won’t take too kindly to having a pedophile among them."

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