Page 3 of Lost
If this was a joke, it would come undone eventually. He could let it play out until then. If it was real, he couldn’t even yell at Samantha Maverick for having kept this from him. She was dead, and that was that. There was nobody to confront. There was nobody to blame for this mess.
Nobody but himself.
Pat had made his way across the room and was already on the phone, presumably to Maria. Zack was silent as the older man spoke, using the time to consider his next move. Calling his mother was probably a good first step. But how was he going to tell her he was suddenly a father?Surprise, Mom! You always said you wanted more grandkids!He could only imagine what she was going to think of him. Disappointment, for sure — because heshouldhave known.
The sound of the front door opening was like ice water on his back.
His wife was smiling when she stepped through, shopping bags in hand, and Zackhatedknowing he was about to ruin her perfect day. She dropped her keys on the table by the door and stepped into the kitchen, where she deposited her bags on the floor before swooping down and pecking her husband on the cheek and saying a quick, “Hi, love.” She gave Pat a little wave; he responded with a respectful nod.
Still on the phone, he gave Zack a look that said it was now or never. Zack hated him for it, but Pat was right. Blonde curls bouncing, Georgia grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and an apple from the counter — a perfect picture of health. At least somebody in their house was doing something right. Zack didn’t want to think about his own pudge or the tattoos that covered it.
“Georgie?”
“Mm?”
Zack was used to nerves — got them often enough, living the lifestyle that he did — but this was something else entirely. This was a disaster waiting to happen. He bit down on his lower lip, searching for piercings long removed. Georgia recognised the habit at once.
“Babe, what’s wrong?”
Why was this harder than getting up on stage in front of thousands of strangers? Georgia was his wife. She’d been by his side through everything, knew every horrible thing he’d done in his life and still married him. But unlike those strangers, she could judge him and it would matter. Hell, she couldleavehim for this. On the scale of things he’d done in his life to deserve to be hated, this was right up there. He didn’t want to hurt her, but there was no way around it if that was how she was going to feel. Whatever the consequences, he would have to deal with them.Take it like a man, Zack.
With a defeated sigh, he gestured for her to take a seat.
“You might wanna sit down. I have something important I need to tell you.”
CHAPTER TWO
It was mid-afternoon when the plane touched down at John Wayne Airport.
Mrs. Corte hadn’t said much on the trip, and that had suited Lysander fine. He’d spent the majority of the three-and-a-half hour journey staring out the window, ignoring the curly-haired brunette, taking in the bird’s eye view with little enthusiasm. California was nothing special. It looked like every other stretch of the country they’d flown over, just with the addition of the long stretch of ocean along its side. Big deal. He was already counting down the minutes until he’d be back on a plane and leaving again, headed back to Wisconsin.
He couldn’t wait to escape the company of the lawyer. For days she’d been acting like she was his best friend in the world — telling him how much he was going to like his new home, how excited everybody was to meet him, how much hisnew familywere looking forward to his arrival. Like he was little orphan Annie heading off to live with Daddy Warbucks. He had taken to speaking to her only when absolutely necessary, and avoiding her like the plague the rest of the time. Where had this best friend persona been when he’d needed her last week? She’d treated him as a nuisance then. Like a squashed bug on the bottom of her expensive heels. Now she claimed to have his best interests at heart, but he already knew her better than that. The only person she cared about was her client.
Lysander’s forever-absent father.
It wasn’t Zachary Bennett’s fault he hadn’t been around. Lysander knew that. His mother had told him as much when she’d finally revealed the man’s name. It had been her choice to exclude the rockstar from their lives, and Lysander had respected that — at least for the most part. There had been a few occasions when he and Dakota had gone to one of Zachary’s band’s shows, his sister in the hopes of being able to finally meet her father — and the rest of the band that she so adored — but it had never happened.
And now Dakota was missing. Lysander clenched his fists at the thought, digging his nails into his palms. That, he reminded himself for the thousandth time, was the only reason he was here.
He tapped his foot impatiently while they waited to be let off the plane. Somewhere out there, Zachary Bennett waited. For days it had been Lysander’s main focus. The man was a famous musician, and had been for almost as long as Lysander had been alive. If that told him anything, it was that the man had money. More money than the Columbus Police Department would ever be willing to put into finding Dakota. Hopefully enough to have her safely returned.
Ithadto be enough.
Lysander grabbed his backpack and shoved a hand into his pocket, needing to be sure Dakota’s iPod was still there. It was, tucked safely in the right pocket of his jeans where he’d stored it, earphones twisted around it haphazardly. He held onto it as he followed Mrs. Corte down the airstairs and into the terminal, keeping close so he wouldn’t lose sight of her in the mass of passengers moving around the place. The woman strolled through the airport with a sense of purpose, high heels clacking, looking every bit the success that she claimed to be. Lysander tried not to hunch his shoulders as he followed along in her shadow, the teenage boy who was only there because he had to be. He wondered if it showed.
Baggage claim was quick and easy given they only had a single piece of luggage each. Mrs. Corte surprisingly had only brought one oversized suitcase with her to Wisconsin, and Lysander had packed light. He wouldn’t be staying long. He dragged the thing behind him as Mrs. Corte led him further through the airport, straight towards the exit.
“He’s meeting us in the car park,” she explained, barely glancing over her shoulder.
Lysander raised an eyebrow. “What, no car service? You mean the guy actually took time out of his day to come down here and pick us up?”
“Of course. Are you excited to meet him?”
He was, though for a different reason than she no doubt assumed. But now, seconds away from the meeting actually happening, he wasn’t as sure of himself. He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, trying to expel the butterflies in his stomach. He’d had nothing but his sister on his mind since he’d been told he was being brought to California, but the gravity of what he was about to do was suddenly weighing on him. He was about to meet his father for the first time — and despite having never cared for it before, the nerves were eating at his insides.
For Dakota, he reminded himself. And he nodded.
They stepped out into the spring sunshine. Mrs. Corte was ready for it and promptly pulled a pair of flashy sunglasses out of her purse. Lysander wasn’t so lucky. He brought a hand up to shield his eyes, cursing the fact that he hadn’t thought this far ahead. His own sunglasses — a pair that had cost him two dollars at a localGoodwill— were packed away in a box somewhere, probably already waiting for him in Zachary Bennett’s house. Despite his protests, the lawyer had insisted on having his things sent ahead of them, and he couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when she was ordered to send them right back.
