Chapter 82 The Boy In The Field
The silence in the Vane library was thick, and the only sound was the steady hum of the cooling fans and the rhythmic clicking of the mouse as Alex scrolled through the grainy, scanned pages of the 1974 file.
He just stared at the medical logs that described a world he had never known existed, a world where his father was not the man in the glass office but a boy who owned nothing and was punished for it.
Sarah stood behind him, her hand resting on the back of his neck, and she felt the muscles there turn to stone as he opened a document detailing the winter of 1975, when Richard had been caught stealing bread from the school kitchen and was made to sleep in the unheated cellar for a week as a result.
"He told me he grew up in a house with a private library, and he told me his father was a man of industry who taught him the value of a hard day's work, but this says his father was a laborer who died in a mill accident when Richard was ten," Alex said, his voice was a low, flat line that lacked any of the heat he usually carried.
"He invented a ghost to live up to, Alex, he spent his entire life building a kingdom so he could bury the memory of that cellar, and he probably convinced himself that the lies were the truth because the reality was too painful to carry into a boardroom," Sarah replied, she leaned down to read the notes from a school chaplain who had tried to intervene when he saw the marks on the boy's shoulders.
"It says here he was on a full scholarship, and it says the headmaster took his stipend every month as a fine for his bad attitude, which basically meant he was working for the school as a servant just to have a bed," Mark said from the corner of the room, he had stopped looking at the server logs and was now watching the screen with a look of deep, quiet realization.
"He attacked our stability because stability is the only thing he values, he sees the world as a place that is constantly trying to take what you have, so he strikes first to make sure he is the one holding the blade," Sarah noted, she looked at the photo of the thin boy again and she didn't see a villain, she saw a child who had been taught that love was a luxury he couldn't afford.
"I spent twenty-two years trying to earn the respect of a man who was just a scared kid in a suit, I let him dictate my life because I thought he was a giant, but he was just a survivor who didn't know how to stop fighting," Alex said, he closed the medical file and pushed the laptop away, the metal sliding across the mahogany desk with a sharp, grating sound.
"You are not like him, Alex, you know the difference between building a life and building a cage, and you know that Mark and I are not assets you have to protect with firewalls and lawyers," Sarah told him, she moved around the desk and stood between his knees, her hands reaching up to cup his face so he had to look at her.
"I don't want the company, and I don't want the name, I just want to know that I am not going to wake up in thirty years and realize I’ve turned into him, sitting in a dark room alone with a mountain of money and no one who actually knows my name," Alex whispered, and he leaned his forehead against her stomach, his breath coming in long, ragged shudders that shook his entire frame.
"You won't, because you have us, and because you are the one who walked out of the mansion to save us, which is something Richard Harrington would never have done for anyone," Mark said, he walked over and put a hand on Alex’s shoulder.
"We should get some air, the sun is almost up and the fog is starting to lift from the cliffs," Sarah said, her voice was thick with a desire she wasn't trying to hide, and she saw the same look reflected in Alex’s eyes as he stood up.
"Mark, stay with the servers, if the city council tries to ping the IP address again, I want to know immediately," Alex commanded, but his tone was no longer that of a boss, it was the authoritative, private voice he only used when he was focused on her.
"I’ve got it, go ahead, I’ll be here if the world starts burning again," Mark replied, he sat down at the desk and pulled a headset over his ears, giving them a small, tired nod of approval.
Alex led Sarah out of the library and through the quiet hallways of the Vane estate, their footsteps silent on the rugs until they reached the heavy glass doors that led to the cliffside terrace. They walked to the very edge of the stone railing, and Alex pulled her against him, his arms wrapping around her waist with a strength that was possessive and desperate all at once.
"I feel like I’ve been holding my breath for years, Sarah, and I feel like I’m finally starting to see the light," he said, his lips brushing against her ear as the wind whipped her hair across her face.
"Then breathe, Alex, because the Harringtons don't own the air out here, and they don't own the way I feel when you touch me," she replied, she turned in his arms and looked up at him, her hands sliding under his shirt to feel the heat of his skin against her palms.
They stood on the edge of the world, and Sarah realized that the only thing that was real, the only thing that mattered more than the blueprints or the bank accounts, was the heat of the man standing in front of her. He kissed her then, a hard, deep pressure, and Sarah met him with a hunger that was just as raw as his own.
"If I could, I'd stay here all my life," Alex whispered against her mouth, his hands moving down her back to pull her even closer.
"We have to go back one last time to finish this.” she told him, her voice was steady and full of a confidence that had nothing to do with business.
They were about to turn and head back inside to check on Mark when a sharp, rhythmic beeping sound came from the small security tablet Alex had clipped to his belt.
"Is it the servers? Is Helena trying to breach the firewall?" Sarah asked, her hand tightening on his arm as the corporate world came rushing back.
Alex pulled the tablet from his belt and looked at the screen, his face turning into a mask of confusion as he watched the thermal feed from the main gate at the bottom of the long driveway.
A single car had just pulled up to the iron bars, it wasn't a black SUV and it wasn't another police cruiser, it was a modest, silver sedan that looked out of place against the grandeur of the Vane estate.
"No, the servers are fine, but someone just hit the call button at the gate," Alex said, his thumb swiped across the screen to zoom in on the driver’s seat.
"Who is it? Did Julian send someone else?" Sarah asked, leaning over to look at the grainy image.
The camera adjusted its focus, and the trio saw a man sitting behind the wheel of the sedan, he wasn't wearing a suit and he wasn't carrying a briefcase, he was just sitting there with his hands on the steering wheel, looking up at the house through the fog.
"It’s my father," Alex said, his voice was a whisper of pure shock. "He’s alone, and he’s not waiting for the guards to open the gate."