All the ugliness that had been dredged up from the past clung to me, wrapped around my neck like a noose. A game. A horrible, disgusting game. That’s all this was.
When he finished, I closed my eyes, allowing images and memories to drive me to a point of feeling nothing.
“Thank you, Mikhail. I’ll handle it from here.” There was no emotion in my voice. Nothing. Just an understanding that this was my life and would be for as long as I lived. However long I endured the pain.
“Like hell you will,” Mikhail barked. “We need to figure this out. We, Viss, not you alone.”
“Not right now. This I need to do alone.” I ended the call, taking a deep breath before returning to the deck. Just seeing her standing there, appearing vulnerable was gut-wrenching,but if there was one thing I couldn’t stand, it was anyone who lied to me.
Fallon lifted her head and the same look of horror I’d seen before was bubbling at the surface. The moment was forged in rock and steel, penetrating both of us. Yet no walls were crumbling down. Instead, they were being built stone by stone. “Do you have a picture of her?” Her entire body was tense, her teeth gritted.
Her question caught me off guard. “Who are you talking about?”
“Megan. Do you… Have a picture?” Her words were spat out while she continued to shake.
“What does it matter?” I took long strides toward her, but she wasn’t intimidated. Instead, she had tears in her eyes. “It’s funny about our connection, Fallon. You didn’t tell me who you were on purpose. What the hell were you trying to do? Are you working for them?”
She pulled away as if I’d struck her.
“I don’t know what you’re getting at, Vissarian, but I don’t care. Do you have a goddamn picture of Megan? I need to know. Please. Tell me.”
Her refusal to budge taunted me as much as what Mikhail had shared. Whatever game she was continuing to play was entwined with the riddle Ludolf had left, yet she refused to admit her complicity.
God, I wanted to hate her, but it was impossible. “Whatever game you’re playing, lady, it isn’t going to be tolerated.” I jerked my wallet from my back pocket, instantly freezing the moment my fingers touched the old photograph I’d carried with me for years. Fuck me. The pain was even worse.
“Please, Vissarian. I need to see her.”
Her goddamn voice was so imploring I was at a loss for how I felt or what the fuck I should do. Yet I found myself pullingthe picture into my hand, tracing Megan’s face with my thumb. When I lifted my head, I could barely move, breathing instantly difficult. How the fuck had I not seen the resemblance before? How?
When I handed the photograph to Fallon and our fingers touched, she instantly sucked in a strangled breath. After swallowing, it was as if she finally found the courage to glance at the picture.
A single, very small sound pushed past her lips, but even the subtlety didn’t hide her obvious anguish.
“Who is she to you, Fallon?” My words were barely audible. Almost unrecognizable.
She blinked several times, tears slipping past lashes that continually skimmed across her pale skin. As her body swayed, she repeated the same action I’d done before, tracing her finger across the smiling woman’s face.
As I waited, it seemed as if time had no meaning, as if fifteen years of pain and hatred, anger and a raging desire for revenge had come full circle. It was the here and now and I was standing with my fucking heart on my sleeve peering down at a ghost.
One beautiful and completely different, yet much the same. So much so, I could no longer breathe.
She moved her lips, taking several small gasps. “She’s my sister.” As she finally lifted her head, darting her tortured eyes back and forth across mine, all I wanted to do was to protect her from the evils of this world.
Her admittance had a completely different effect than I’d ever thought possible. As if in slow motion, her body began to slide to the floor.
Bella barked, immediately rushing to the woman who’d saved her. I scooped Fallon into my arms, carrying her into the cottage, gently easing her onto the couch, saying nothing as Bella jumped onto the cushions.
And the photograph remained in her hand.
Yet her little stare was almost enough to break what was left of my heart.
I moved to the chair, sitting on the edge. With my elbows on my knees, I steepled my hands. I had no idea what to say and maybe there was no need. At least not right now. I remained choked from memories and sadness that should never see the light of day again.
“Her last name wasn’t Zimmerman.” I don’t even know why I made the statement. What the fuck did it matter at this point? Fallon wasn’t who she said she was. “She used Meadows.”
She bit her lower lip. “My mother’s maiden name.”
As I took a deep breath, it was difficult to keep the anger controlled. Fallon was as much a victim as Megan had been. I could feel it in my bones.