7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Samuel

As expected, the file I've received from Henry is thin compared to Aidan's. There aren't any further details that are missing from the first one, so it's useless.

Two things are missing from Aidan's folder. One is the address, and the second is a detailed section on the guy's movements. For the first, I bet he's expecting me to call him, so he can brag some more about how good his company is, and how slow and paper-excessive the police are.

I would never admit that to him, but he's right—too much paperwork to fill out and pass from hand to hand before things are done. While I understand it's done to protect the public, I'm also aware of the damage it causes.

Anyway, hell can freeze over before I call him.

I fish my phone out of my pocket and search for Felix's contact.

"Hey man," I say as soon as the call engages.

"Were you looking for me?"

Oh, come on! I bite the words down when Aidan's voice comes through the microphone.

"If I was looking for you, I would have called you."

" I see. You're avoiding me." His tone is colloquial with a hint of smugness I find detrimental to my sanity.

"Can I talk to Felix?" Let's cut to the chase.

"He's busy."

Aahh! Every time I speak with him, I end up feeling like I've been stabbed all over by sticks.

"Are you going to ask for an address, or shall I tell Felix to call you?" I can practically taste his smirk through the phone.

"I want the address," I say, defeated. "Please," I add, when I notice how curt and rude I've been. Using my training should be an automatic response, even with Aidan pushing all the wrong—or, I admit, right—buttons.

"Call me on my number."

I'm left with my mouth hanging open when the line goes dead.

I grip my phone in my hand tightly to avoid smashing it on the counter in a bout of rage. Instead, I squeeze my eyes shut, and breathe so deeply my lungs nearly explode, to stop myself from screaming at the phone like I want to murder it. My training for dealing with difficult people goes out the window.

When I'm finally calm enough, I call Aidan.

"What's your fucking problem?" I ask him as soon as he picks the phone up.

"You," he replies.

I wait for more, but nothing comes. I want to ask, but I don't want to be the one capitulating first. When the silence stretches, and my agitated breathing is the only sound between us, I get the hint of how ridiculous this situation is.

"I'm not sure why you've got a problem with me. I don't know you and you don't know me. I asked you for a favour, and you had two choices: help me or send me back the way I came. You decided to help, so just do that, or tell me and I'll find another way to find the information I need."

The silence stretches a little longer, so much so I'm sure he's gone until he talks again.

"You should help yourself instead of meddling in other people's business. You're breaking the law to help someone you don't even know, but you don't have the courage to face your own problems."

Someone else would have said these words with passion or anger behind them. Instead, Aidan says them as if he's talking about the weather, and I'm not sure why, but that gets to my head.

"What I do with my life is none of your fucking business. I'm old enough to make my own decisions, and I don't need a bastard like you to tell me what I can or can't do." I'm breathing heavily when I'm done with the emotional dump.

I don't like the ‘me' I am with him.

"You should put the same passion into taking responsibility for what you did."

My world implodes, sending pieces of it to scatter around.

"Fuck you." I try to put the hatred I have for him into my words, but both of us can hear the tears clogging my throat.

I pull the phone away from my ear and disconnect the call. Then I walk to the kitchen and take a glass, going to my secret stash and pulling out a bottle of whisky. I watch myself fill the glass as if I'm no longer inside my body. My mind is screaming for me to put down the bottle and walk away, while my body automatically does whatever is needed to stop the pain from taking over and crippling me, like it did five years ago.

I take the full glass in my hand, sniff it like a dog looking for a treat, and slowly slide it up to my mouth. The ringing of the phone snaps me back into reality, and I place the glass on the counter with so much force the liquid overflows and spreads everywhere. I ignore it and pick up the phone, giving the devil's nectar my back to avoid temptation.

"Samuel?" Felix's voice brings me fully back into the room. My mind goes from needing a drink to needing information.

"Sam?"

I clench my jaw so hard to avoid snapping at Felix that my teeth grind together.

"Samuel, please," I say when I'm able to relax my jaw enough.

"Sorry," he says, then continues, as if I didn't ask anything strange. "What do you need?"

"Aidan gave me a fold—" I don't have the chance to finish as Felix jumps right in.

"Yeah, I took care of it."

"I need the address."

"It should have been there," Felix says, sounding perplexed.

I'm not surprised, sure Aidan is behind the missing information.

"I have the information somewhere. I'll text you."

"Okay, thanks," I say, and then end the call.

My gaze falls to the glass on the counter, mostly full.

Temptation is a bitch.

If I touch the glass, I'll probably drink it. Instead, I leave it there and walk to the front door. Before leaving, I put my shoes on and grab my car keys and wallet.

The traffic is still heavy in the city, but I'm not in a hurry to get where I'm going. I'm glad, because focusing my attention on the road will help me rein in the idea of stopping at the first pub to have a drink.

As soon as I get out of London, the traffic is less chaotic, and I relax my grip on the steering wheel. I let the calmness that comes with driving, and the landscape around me, help me find a semblance of balance.

It takes me less time than I need to reach my destination. I park the car and sit there, watching the small house, just visible from my position.

It's not the first time I've come here and sat for hours, trying to get a glimpse of what's happening inside. I never leave my car and never try to get closer.

When the door opens, and a woman with a child exits, I stop breathing and blinking. I can't take my eyes off them. Even knowing it's impossible, I still wait for another person to appear. I wait for his big frame to fill the door, his smile to brighten the day, and his warmth to spread until it reaches me and makes me whole again.

Instead, the door closes behind them, and the frost I'm trying to get rid of gets stronger. They are as alone as I am.

I lose sensation in my limbs, as if this coldness is spreading inside me and paralysing every single cell. All the while I watch them walk hand in hand on the pavement. Lucy is looking at Daniel, smiling at whatever the boy is saying.

Yet, I can still spot a hint of sadness in her features. The same sadness fills me at the thought of Adrian never seeing his kid growing up. Knowing he'll never teach him how to be a good person, how to care for others, and how to help them when in need.

Heaviness fills me at the thought of Daniel not knowing his father, not knowing what a great person or friend he was.

When I lose sight of them, I leave the car and follow the same path until I can easily see the park. I watch without being seen while Daniel plays, and Lucy sits on a bench with some women. I stay there until I hear them getting ready to leave.

Slowly, I walk back to my car, still hoping to hear Adrian's voice call me to join them, to celebrate whatever special day today is. Instead, only the swoosh of the wind keeps me company.

Instead of going home, I drive around until I'm too tired to continue, and only then do I drive back. I park the car and go up to my apartment. Once there, I lie on the sofa, closing my eyes and letting the exhaustion pull me under.