Chapter 12 - THE WAREHOUSE
The warehouse smelled like rust and river water.
Roman entered first.
Sophia followed twenty feet behind wearing a bulletproof vest under her coat.
Gabriel was safe with Samuel.
At least Roman prayed he was.
“Arthur!” Roman shouted.
His voice echoed.
Lights clicked on.
One by one.
A little girl sat in a chair at the center of the floor.
Lily.
Hands free.
Not crying.
Just terrified.
Roman’s chest broke open.
She looked like Evelyn.
Not similar.
Not vaguely.
Evelyn.
“Lily,” he said gently.
The girl stared at him.
“Who are you?”
Roman couldn’t answer.
A slow clap came from the catwalk.
An older man stepped into the light.
Arthur Callaway.
Roman’s father.
Alive.
Older.
Thinner.
But unmistakable.
Roman’s face became stone.
“You should be dead.”
Arthur smiled.
“So should Vincent.”
Sophia stared.
Arthur looked at her.
“And you must be Sophia.”
“Stay away from me.”
“I have no interest in you.”
“Good.”
“My interest is your son.”
Roman stepped between them.
Arthur sighed.
“Still predictable.”
Roman’s voice dropped.
“Give me the girl.”
Arthur looked amused.
“The girl is yours.”
Roman froze.
“You knew.”
“Of course.”
“You stole her from me.”
“No. Your mother did.”
Arthur looked toward Lily.
“She thought hiding the child would weaken my hand.”
Roman wanted to kill him.
He could feel it in his muscles.
Arthur noticed.
“Go ahead.”
Roman stared.
“You think I came unarmed?”
“No. I think you came angry.”
Arthur smiled.
“And angry men are easy.”
A gun clicked behind Sophia.
She froze.
Vincent stepped from the shadows.
Holding it.
Sophia’s face collapsed.
“Daniel?”
Roman stared at his brother.
Alive.
Eleven years older.
Scar beneath his chin.
Same gray eyes.
Vincent looked at Sophia.
“I’m sorry.”
She shook her head.
“No.”
Roman’s voice was quiet.
“Put the gun down.”
Vincent didn’t.
Arthur smiled.
“That’s the family reunion I was hoping for.”
Sophia looked at Vincent.
“You brought me here.”
“No.”
“You left the photograph. You told me to find Roman.”
“Yes.”
“You knew this would happen.”
Vincent’s eyes filled with guilt.
“I needed Arthur to come out.”
Roman understood.
“You used Gabriel as bait.”
Vincent flinched.
Arthur laughed.
“Finally.”
Roman stared at his brother.
“You used your own son.”
May you like
Vincent whispered:
“To kill our father.”
