Page 37 of The Silencer

"But what?"I ask, a sense of dread settling in my stomach.

Ma takes a deep breath."He said if you don't go to see him, he'll start talking.About your...work."

The world seems to tilt on its axis.My father knows about my work with the Agency?How is that even possible?Wait… How the hell do Ma and Declan know?

“Son,” Declan says as he watches me, “there’s been talk for years.We may be older than you but we're not stupid.We don’t know the ins and outs of your job but we know the basics.As for how your father found out, that I do not know.”

"That's impossible," I say out loud, my mind racing."He's been locked up.There's no way he could know..."

But even as I say it, doubt creeps in.My father may be a monster, but he's not stupid.If he's managed to get information while in prison...

"Fuck," I mutter, running a hand through my hair.

Declan steps forward, his face grim."Son, whatever you decide, we're behind you.But if there's any chance he actually knows something..."

I nod, understanding the unspoken implication.If my father starts talking about The Agency, about the work I do, it could put everyone I care about in danger.Ma, Declan, Maverick, Jer—they'd all be at risk.

"I'll handle it," I say, my voice hard."I'll go see him, find out what he thinks he knows.And then I'll make sure he never threatens any of us again."

Ma's eyes widen."Emmanuel, what are you saying?"

I force a reassuring smile."Nothing, Ma.I'm just going to talk to him, that's all.Find out what he wants and put an end to this once and for all."

As I hug Ma goodbye and shake Declan's hand, my mind is already racing ahead.I'll need to talk to Jer and get clearance for whatever needs to be done.Because one thing's for certain: I'm not letting my father destroy my life again.

This ends now, one way or another.

As I drive away from Ma and Declan's house, my mind is racing.How could my father possibly know about my work with The Agency?And what game is he playing by threatening to expose me?

I pull over to the side of the road and call Jer.He picks up on the second ring.

"We've got a problem," I say without preamble."My father is claiming he has information about my work.He's threatening to talk unless I go see him."

There's a long pause on the other end of the line.When Jer speaks, his voice is tense."How the hell did he get that information?"

"I don't know," I admit."But if there's even a chance he actually knows something..."

"We can't risk it," Jer finishes."Alright, here's what we're going to do.You'll go see him, find out what he knows and how he got the information.But you won't be going alone."

"Who's coming with me?"I ask, already dreading the answer.

"Me," Jer says."I’ve got connections in the prison system.I’ll get us in quietly, no records of the visit."

"Okay," I agree reluctantly."When?"

"Tomorrow morning," Jer says."Be ready at my house at eight a.m."

As I hang up, I can't shake the feeling that things are about to get a lot more complicated.My father has always been a wildcard, unpredictable and dangerous.

* * *

I arrive at Jer's house at 7:45 the next morning, my stomach in knots.The thought of facing my father after all these years fills me with a mixture of dread and rage.

Jer is waiting for me, his face grim."You ready for this?"

I nod tersely."Let's get it over with."

The drive to the prison is tense and silent.I stare out the window, trying to prepare myself for whatever my father might say or do.Part of me hopes he's bluffing, that he doesn't actually know anything about my work.But a larger part knows better.My father has always had a knack for finding out things he shouldn't.

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