Page 91 of The Chosen
And about his connection to Sarah’s mom.
The sun now shone brightly, filling the pool house with light. I’d officially been awake for over twenty-four hours, but I refused to sleep. Instead, I’d spent the past several hours scrolling through pages of property listings and obituaries.
While I had more information than I did hours ago, this was still essentially a shot in the dark.
I was operating under a fairly big assumption that whoever had taken Ariana was somehow connected to the man who’d taken Blake and Chandler all those years ago. In my mind, he had to be. Why else would he trace the same symbol branded on Blake’s chest onto the floor of the stables?
At the very least, it was a lead to follow. The only lead I currently had.
“His real name might not even be Isaac,” Blake offered as I clicked on yet another obituary from around the time Blake would have killed him.
I glanced away from the screen, meeting his gaze as he lay on the couch, Cato curled up on the floor beside him.
“What makes you say that?”
A humorless laugh escaped him. “He gave us all new names when we were reborn.” The bitterness in his voice was impossible to miss.
“Reborn? What do you mean?”
His jaw tightened. “When he branded us. He told us the people we were before were dead.”
“What was your name?”
He didn’t answer right away. Just stared at the ceiling. Finally, he said, “Luke.”
“And Chandler?” I asked hesitantly. “What was her name?”
“Esther,” he said, his voice softer.
Sadder.
“After I escaped, I struggled to remember that my name used to be Pierson. I’d been Luke for so long, it was the only thing that felt familiar. But I did know I wanted nothing to tie me to that place. Nothing to tie me to him.”
“So you gave yourself a new name.”
He heaved a sigh. “Something like that.”
I studied him for a long moment, sensing there was even more to the story. Escaping was probably just one short chapter in his life, and now that he was finally talking, I wanted to know more.
“What happened after you escaped? What did you do?”
“Whatever I could to survive. I was living on the streets. No identification. No family. No money. I was essentially right back to where I was before Isaac found me. But this time, I was even more hardened. Had even less to live for, so I was pretty impulsive. Got into a lot of fights. I eventually heard about an underground fighting tournament with a big cash prize. I figured I had nothing to lose, so may as well enter. The guy running it doesn’t just take any fighter though. I had to prove myself.”
“And did you?”
“Let’s just say, not many guys wanted to get into the ring after they realized what I was capable of, especially since the rules for this tournament were more…suggestions than anything.”
“I take that as a yes,” I mused.
Blake gave a curt nod. “I ended up winning. Because of that, the guy who organized the tournament approached me with an…opportunity.”
“What kind of opportunity?” I arched a brow, although I had a feeling I already knew what it was.
“He needed someone who didn’t mind getting their hands dirty, so to speak. He had clients who sometimes needed help…cleaning up a situation. So that’s what I did. Made problems disappear.”
It all clicked into place. From the beginning, Blake had a unique ability to clean up a crime scene and leave no evidence behind.
“And now? Do you still make problems disappear for him?”
