Page 80 of Remnants
Why was I in such a rush to leave earlier?
I huff, walking through the apartment to the door and then elevator before muttering under my breath, “Tease.”
Jackson steps in after me, his dimple piercing his cheek. “Good things come to those who wait.”
I sure fucking hope so.
Jackson halts before one of the many apartment doors on this floor, shifting to the side for me to knock. It’s quiet on the other side of the door, no reply to acknowledge my knock or movement that I can hear. Could he be in the Guild Hall?
“He’s here,” Jack reassures me.
The door finally opens. Reid looks between the two of us, his gazeassessing. “Come in,” he offers at last, stepping out of the way for us to enter. We’re in a small hallway with two doors before it opens to a kitchenette. There’s a small round table for four and a living area across from the kitchen and what looks like a sliding door to a balcony. Reid strides into the kitchen, pulling three glasses down. “I’m assuming you’re here to ask me about our past?”
I nod, and he proceeds to fill the glasses with ice and water from the refrigerator, then passes them out. Reid sits in one of the upholstered chairs, setting his glass on the low table at the center of the couches and chairs. “I’ll admit…I wasn’t sure you’d come. Or care.”
Am I overthinking things if I think he sounds a bit like Charles now that I know their relation? He’d been short and direct most times we’d interacted, but when he’s been speaking more freely or explaining things…there’s that formal tone. How much of how he talks and acts is because of that man?
Does it matter?
Jack and I sit on the couch, and once I’ve released my drink to the table, I weave my hands together and squeeze. Fuck. Why am I so nervous all of a sudden? My heart’s pounding as I look at him, at his familiar blue eyes that regard me with a guarded stare that tell me nothing about what he thinks or feels.
Half-brother.
“Do you remember my mother?”
“I do, though I can’t say much about her.”
“Why not?”
“I was just a child, and we didn’t talk much.”
“Oh. Right.” I tighten my hands.
A crinkling sound draws my gaze to Jackson, who unwraps a lollipop and sticks it in his mouth. After a firm suck, he pops it out. “How do you know Raegan? How did you meet?” His posture is relaxed and casual, but he eyes Reid with a dark and calculating look.
“It was right around the time when Charles started taking me along with him. I was five, so I didn’t understand much of what I saw, but we would visit Merina when Raegan was maybe six or seven months old. He wanted me to play with you so he could talk to her,” Reidexplains to me, his eyes softening. “I didn’t really know much about playing, so I tried anything to see what you’d do. What might make you laugh or smile. Merina and Charles were both happy when they saw us, and I was sent back regularly after that.
“I learned how to change your diaper, feed you, do everything you might need so Merina could go back to training. That went on for almost four years before she ran with you.” He pauses, hesitating.
“What is it?” I press, now at the edge of the seat cushion as I hang on his every word.
His eyes flick to mine. “It was…hard…for me…when you were gone. I’d still followed Charles and learned his business while I’d been your playmate and babysitter. I attended meetings, negotiations, politics. Even the torture and killings he carried out himself. Or witnessed. We visited labs with dying or restrained gifted most often. And when I turned eight, Charles pressured me to participate in small ways with whatever he was doing or needed done.
“But when I was tasked to look after you…it was a breath of fresh air. You were so…sweet. And pure. You were the happiest thing in my life, and I wanted to protect you from whatever plan he had for you. I fought to stay in his good graces so I would be in a position to shelter you from the horrible things our father did. So, when you were gone without warning…I didn’t take it well. I heard Merina died fighting off agents, and I thought you’d been with her.” He stops to drink his water.
My heart breaks at how much he’d cared about me. How my disappearance had hurt him. And how guilty I now feel for not remembering any of it.
Jackson slips his hand in mine, tracing his thumb along the back of it.
“Reid, I…”
“There’s nothing for you to be sorry for,” he interjects matter-of-factly, his glass knocking against the table when he sets it down. Reid glances to Jackson. “So? What’s your verdict?”
Verdict?
Jackson’s smirk sharpens, the stick of his lollipop still trapped between his lips. “How many board members did you meet?”
Reid frowns, suddenly wary. “All of them.”
