Curtain Call (The Jewel Project #7)

43. Curtain Call

Sam couldn't wrap his mind around what he was seeing.

At first, it was the voice. But then, his father stumbled into the room, obviously alive. He looked thinner, and the right side of his body was a little slumped, as if it was hard for him to stay fully vertical. The hands wrapped around the head of the sturdy black cane looked gnarled, as if they belonged to a much older person. There was a deep scar on his right cheek, making it look fallen in. The hair on his temples was completely white now, and his hair looked thinned and scruffier.

And yet, her carried himself with confidence as he and the men who joined him, including Von Crooken and Eye Patch, made their way around the cage and stepped in the entrance of the open space.

Kyle made to step forward, but Snitch Gravel-- Davyn now-- reached out his arm to hold him back, sensing the obvious danger.

"No way," Tom breathed. "No fucking way."

"So this was it, huh, Nicholas?" A lopsided grin appeared on Davyn's face. "You finally found someone to replace me with. You didn't even have to look far."

"You were always disposable," Von Cooken grumbled. "I just needed help to see it. You are not Snitch Gravel. Snitch Gravel was my creation, and I'm taking it back."

"Shove it up your ass, as far as I'm concerned." Davyn crossed his arms over his chest. "But do tell me how you managed to pull this one out from the grave."

"Always so sure of yourself," Freider said with a shake of his head, as if abandoning his family and faking his death for the past five years was the most normal thing in the world. "Did it never cross your mind that you might have failed at killing me?"

"I didn't even try," Davyn said, sounding bored. "And I didn't even check if you were dead."

"I did," Von Crooken said. "After you left. And I saw his use. Especially after you made sure to cut off all profitable avenues for business."

"Then who did we burn?" Jerry asked, snapping Sam out of his shocked state. "We held a funeral for you. Your urn is still in the house."

The matter that they'd held a stranger on their mantle didn't seem to interest Fredier in the least. He didn't even bother to glance at Jerry, or any of them, really. His killer gaze moved from Davyn to Kyle and Maxi and then back, as if he'd finally found the meaning of life.

"All these years." Freider shook his head again. "I was so naïve, trying to convince myself that I was wrong, that you couldn't have."

Sam's body felt as if it was rapidly filling with liquid fire, rage replacing the shock. It kickstarted his mind, brought all the details of the hellish situation to the forefront. Dvayn had been right. It felt as if Sam's parents were meant to show up in key moments to pick up the story.

"You can't be serious," he said. "Not after what you did."

This got Freider's attention for once. With some difficulty, he turned to face his son instead of his enemy. "What do you mean?" The innocence in his voice was disgusting.

"Where do we even start?" Jerry said, clenching his fists. "With you abandoning the family, faking your death, or missing out on your children's lives?"

Freider threw Kyle another fleeting glance at the mention of his children, but then focused on them again, a pensive air surrounding him. It made Sam's skin crawl. He knew that look too well. His father was about to throw some complicated nonsense at them in order to try to justify what he'd done. And it was a wonder that everyone was waiting for it. Sam had half expected Kyle to punch his face in by then.

"We are at a crossroad," Freider finally said, his voice level. "It has come to this. For the past five years I have been working to ensure you kids a legacy." He threw Davyn another disgusted glance. "Make sure you would end him."