She recapped the first empty bottle, then carefully upended another into the oil fill. “I’m not making him leave. End of subject.”
Tobias watched as she finished the job, used the jack to raise the car, and helped her remove the jack stands and drain pan. She dropped the car, checked the oil before starting it, let it run for a moment, shut it off, and checked the oil again.
She looked at him. “I’m not telling him. Not yet. Eventually, I will. Please, don’t say anything.”
He sensed her inner strength, her incredible will, and knew she was, in fact, okay. It wasn’t how he would deal with it. Then again, he wasn’t in her shoes. He nodded. “All right. If that’s what you want.”
“It is.”
“You really need ice on that.”
“Tell him I say hi.”
She closed her eyes. “Rafe says hi.”
Tobias smiled. “Tell him hi back.”
“I can hear him.”
“He says he can hear you.”
Tobias laughed. “Rafael, I’ve heard of getting into a woman’s pants, but this is ridiculous, even for you.”
“Tell the old fart he can bite me.”
“I’m not telling him that!” Taz objected.
“Did he say ‘bite me?’”
She nodded, and Tobias laughed again. “That was always his standard answer.” He paused. “May I talk to him?”
She looked at Tobias and leaned against the fender. She closed her eyes for a moment. Tobias felt the change, just like at the hotel after the funeral, watched Taz shift her weight then open her eyes.
They were her green eyes, but it was Rafe’s stare and stance.
“Hiya, Uncle Toby.”
He shook his head, tears in his eyes. “Rafael. It is you.”
She—he—turned and finished putting away the tools. “Yeppers, that would be me.” He made sure to turn down the sound in the mental room so Taz couldn’t hear their conversation. She would respect his privacy.
“Why?”
“I don’t expect you to understand.”
“Try me.”
He shook his head. “Some things are left best unsaid.” He turned to his uncle. “You cannot tell Matts about this. Please.”
“Why are you doing this to her?”
“Look, it’s not exactly what I want, but she doesn’t want to tell Matts, and I respect that.”
“You’re ruining their relationship.”
“No, I’m not. Taz is trying to figure her life out. I’m not doing anything.”
“She’s in love with you, Rafael. She’s in love with a dead man trapped inside her head. How is that healthy for her? How does that help her and Matthias heal from all that’s happened?”
Rafael looked away, continued to wipe down the car. “It’s her decision.”
“It wasn’t her decision for you to set up a second life inside her brain.”
“No, and it wasn’t my decision to get killed, either.”
“That’s not Taz’s fault—”
“I know it, goddammit!” That was all Rafael’s rage, and he continued. “Look, I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t mean to end up in here. I don’t want to hurt her or Matts or anyone. But I’m here, and I’ll respect her wishes. If she wants me to leave, she knows all she has to do is say the word and I’m gone. She can kill people, with her thoughts, Uncle Toby. You know that. Do you really think I could stay if she didn’t want me here?”
Tobias finally looked away. It was Taz’s voice, but the inflection and speech pattern was one hundred percent Rafael.
“All right. I won’t tell them.”
“Thank you.” Rafael closed the hood. “This isn’t a permanent solution. I know I can’t stay here forever.”
“Then for how long?”
“As long as Taz wants me.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Gerard studied the five men seated around the table. As his unblinking gaze fell on each, he waited until the man flinched before continuing to the next. He was under no illusions as to what they saw. He wanted them to fear him. Over the years he’d spread a variety of rumors about his abilities until no one for sure knew exactly what he was capable of. As a result, myths had grown, blown horribly out of proportion.
Fine with him. It made his job easier.
“All right. I want our Pacific Northwest operation accelerated. Is the compound online yet?” He fixed his gaze on one of the men, already knowing the answer.
“Not yet, but our plans are six months ahead of schedule.”
Gerard waited to nod, and the man audibly sighed with relief when he did. “Good. As soon as it’s finished, I want the personnel moved out there that we’ve already selected. Including the girls.”
“Including the ones slated for the Brazil facility?”
He nodded. “The sooner they’re isolated, the better. Gentlemen, we are going to change the world. When we’re through, people will bow before us.” He walked over to the cabinet at the end of the room and pulled out the head, grabbing it by the hair and lobbing it onto the table where it landed with the dull, sickening splat of an overripe melon. None of the men dared moved, but they all flinched.
Gerard smiled. “Very good, gentlemen. I don’t expect you to agree with my choices, just do what I tell you when I tell you. Success will be rewarded.” He pointed to the head, which despite being refrigerated for several weeks was beginning to smell, and the skin had turned a sickly green color. “That man, obviously, wasn’t successful. Worse, he ran without orders to do so. His failure was to fail to ask for direction before retreating.” Gerard placed his hands on the table and leaned forward, exposing his vicious canines as he smiled. “I’m assuming I won’t have that problem with any of you?”
The men vigorously shook their heads.
“Excellent! Meeting adjourned, gentlemen. Same time, same channel.” He waved them away and they practically scampered out the door while he sat at the head of the table. The sound of retching reached his ears, and he laughed as his assistant entered the room, wearing gloves and carrying a garbage bag.
“How many?” Gerard asked.
“Two, sir.”
“They make the garbage cans?”
“I hope so.”
Gerard laughed. “I should give employee motivation seminars, Rogers.”
Rogers wanly smiled as he dropped the head into the garbage bag and tied it shut. “Standard procedure?”
Gerard leaned back and templed his large, rough hands. “Sure. Send it to…” He snapped his fingers. “Help me out, that guy in Philly who said he wanted out because his wife was pregnant. The software programmer?”
“Dale Arkins?”
“Yeah, him. Send it to him, with a little personalized note that we don’t appreciate him attempting to breach his employment agreement before the renewal date.”
“Will do, sir.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
One afternoon, before Matthias returned home, Taz confronted Rafe inside his room. There was a matter she wanted settled.
“What’s the deal with you and Albert?”
Rafe looked away, refused to meet her eyes. “Doesn’t matter.”
“That’s what he said, and it’s still bullshit. I think I have a right to know.” She wouldn’t force him to tell her and he knew it.
He shook his head. “It’s between the two of us. Was, I guess. And it doesn’t matter.”
“You’re not going to tell me?”
“Nope.” He looked at her. “We all have our secrets, Taz. When I died, this ‘difference of opinion’ as he called it died, too, so it doesn’t matter.”
Rafe didn’t like keeping secrets from Taz. If she chose to walk through his mind, he had no way of stopping her. It was only her self-imposed limits, a result of her guilt, that kept her out of his deeper, private thoughts. Between her barrier and his, Matthias—his conscious mind—had no idea he was there or what happened.