Chapter 73 CHAPTER 075
"12:20p.m." He says without glancing at his wristwatch. It takes me a moment to understand what that means.
I jump off the couch, but it is too much motion for my hungover brain, and I sway on the balls of my feet for a moment. I run a hand through my hair, and shut my eyes for a couple of seconds. Till the world stops swaying beneath my feet.
"Report on what I asked you to do." I say firmly after a moment where I catch my head. I need an aspirin. But I will go get it later.
"She is here." Hernandez says coolly, I nod and look at my phone, no missed calls from any unknown numbers. I check the answering machine, nothing.
"Okay, good. Send her in in ten minutes." I say and turn around, heading upstairs to my room. I need to put myself together. Enough of this show of weakness. I think I have an odd idea of what this is about and whilst I would hate to confirm it, it is inevitable.
I always knew my past would come back to bite me in the ass in some way over the years and I looked forward to it. But never did I imagine it would be this way. Again, I don't want to get ahead of myself with my wild deductions, but it is very hard.
I wash my face, brush my teeth, pop an aspirin, sprayed my cologne, change my shirt, all in thirty minutes. I know Sheryl would be waiting and that is good. I want her to wait. By now, she must know who brought her here like this.
"Long time no see, Sheryl." I say as I make my way down the stairs. I only have to see the back of her head to know it is her. I spent the young formative years of my life loving this woman, it is impossible to not recognise her in a crowd. Even after all these years. Even after I no longer feel anything for her. Not even anger, resentment or anything negative.
She whips her head around and I am not prepared for the look of contempt on her face. Then I remember that I don't even know how Hernandez managed to get her here all the way from Boston. I hope he didn't use force or any degrading means.
She looks pissed and it takes me aback how familiar her features are to me. She looks exactly the same. Though the years have not been exactly kind to her, Sheryl will always retain her essence. Resilient. Mysterious. Powerful. Fatally feminine. The only difference that brings the years apart to my perspective is that her face is thinner. Lined. That face used to be rounder, aglow with youth and mischief.
"Linc. What the hell is this about?" Her voice is hard and resolute, no trace of fear or apprehension.
She doesn't know about the situation yet.
"Your son, Tyler has kidnapped my stepdaughter." I put it simply. Direct and without preamble. I am not in the mood for anything other than finding Amelia as soon as possible. It is noon, almost a full day since he took her. The odds are not looking good.
Her features pull together sharply, in disbelief and shock. I look at her go pale without any emotion on my face.
"What do you mean? What are you talking about?" She says, but her reaction tells me that she already suspected something was wrong and it had something to do with Tyler. Just not this bad. I can't even bring myself to feel sorry for her.
Looking at her sitting in front of me, dressed in a simple black casual dress, her shoulder length brown hair is straight and unstyled. It is tough. I feel like I am being bombarded by a version of my past that I have long moved on from. I am sure she feels the same too but she is doing a great job of not showing it.
"I am saying, your son, Tyler Smith has my stepdaughter. He took her yesterday. He threatened her some days ago, tried blackmail, and then he took her. We are waiting for a call from him. I had you brought here because I need answers." I say. My voice and tone leveled to come out neutral and distant. Anybody listening in on us would never believe we used to be in love.
That was such a long time ago, I have lived several lifetimes since then. I am not the same man I was twenty years ago. I am sure Sheryl is not the same person as well. But she won't admit that. Admitting it will be owning up to her flaws and wrongs. Taking responsibility for how we ended up. But if I know anything about her, it is that she'd rather die. She needs to hold onto her own version of the story to remain the victim.
"What I am hearing is that you are not even sure it is Tyler that took your girl. Nobody has called you for a ransom but you are already running on the assumption that he is the culprit. You really are a piece of work, Linc Dmitri. You know that? How dare you accuse Tyler of such an hideous crime? And you have the gall to bring me all the way here like some piece of meat. You might think you are all that because you became wealthy and all, but me and you both know what you truly are, you are a piece of shit and no amount of money would truly cleanse you of that stench." Sheryl says, her voice is shrill and her body language hostile as all hell.
I remember her flaring temper. It is still the same. And it used to drive me insane. It is the same thing now. I can't stand the self righteous tone.