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And force Ty to watch.
Josiah wasn’t a killer, but if he wanted to live, he had to obey Lysander’s order. To save his son, Tiberius had to go against every fiber of his being. This confused, brainwashed boy who desperately wanted a father’s love had Ty’s love but didn’t believe it.
And Ty needed to build on that lie, unravel his son to the core in order to force his hand. Deep down Josiah had a moral compass and knew murder was wrong.
Ty was in a war created by an enemy that lived on lies and kicked weak areas searching for a way in, a way to manipulate thoughts and appeal to desires until he turned it into reality. Lysander and Patrick Swain both provided services to change fantasies into realities. Patrick for money and Lysander for souls.
Tiberius inhaled deeply, pushing back a dam of tears and a wall of nausea. He was on the precipice of mentally and emotionally ripping his child apart, but Josiah could be mended. The chip in his shell, the brokenness, wouldn’t be wasted. He’d bear the scars, but he’d live to tell his story. Bexley would see to it he had counseling and the truth that his father had to wound him to rescue him.
“We’re probably all going to die anyway.” Ty gave him a reason to justify pulling the trigger. “I’ll tell you the truth. Yes, I knew this entire time. Lysander’s right. And when this case is over—if we live through it—I’m returning to my life in Memphis. I like it. I do what I want. I get dating action without anyone in the way. I’m free.”
Josiah’s eyes narrowed and grew moist. “Free from me?”
“Free from every nuisance and interruption. I didn’t know Bexley was pregnant at the time, but I’ve had a good seventeen years. Distraction-free.” Vomit hit the back of Ty’s throat, and he balled his agony in fists to hide the truth. He often had to tamp down emotion and reaction when interviewing serial killers. He was practiced. But nothing had prepared him for this performance. This wasn’t a killer. It was his kid.
Josiah’s lips tightened and his jaw tweaked. The vein running along his brow popped in angry purple against red splotchy skin. Ty was accomplishing his dreaded mission.
“I mean, you’re a cool kid, I guess, but I’m not cut out to be a father...”
Josiah hadn’t ever handled a real gun, which was far different from a controller to a video game. He might not hit a major artery. Ty only needed to push him over the edge.
Almost there.
Once Josiah did the deed, Owen would rescue them all. Ty was counting on it. Owen would protect them. Care for them as if they were his own family. But where was he?
“You don’t...you don’t want me?” His voice choked. “You don’t love me?”
Ty broke. Exactly what Lysander wanted. This was destruction at its finest. The nail in his coffin, but he couldn’t lie. He could only punctuate what Josiah already believed about him as a father. A deception Lysander had sneakily ingrained in him, using his insecurity and circumstances to manipulate, twist and bend truth. He had a dim view of Ty already and no reason to trust him.
He didn’t know him.
Here came the hammer. “Do I want you? Do I love you?” Yes. Yes. Yes! “What do you think?” he asked nonchalantly, hoping Josiah would believe Ty’s tears were nothing more than rivulets of rain.
A snap of fury flashed in Josiah’s eyes, and his hand rose. The gun fired, and a bullet ripped through Tiberius’s chest.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Bexley hadn’t seen Josiah since she’d arrived. Lysander had bound and gagged her, keeping her in a room behind the primary bedroom closet. What if he didn’t have her son at all and this was a trap to lure Tiberius? She’d seen the note he’d nailed into her bedroom door.
The false wall shifted and she huddled in the corner, but behind the panel appeared Agent Barkley, filthy and bloodstained with fresh drops of blood dripping onto the floor. He removed her gag.
“Thank God, I found you.”
“My family? Tiberius?”
“I haven’t seen them. But I was hit by debris. Knocked me out a few minutes, maybe more. We need to move. Now.” He untied her hands and feet and helped her out of the closet. “Do you know where Garrick or Dalen might be?”
Bexley frowned. “No. Are they here too?”
“Who took you?” Owen asked.
“Lysander Granger. He has Ahnah and Josiah. I don’t know where, though. He brought me straight to this room.”
“He’s keeping you separated from each other for a purpose. I don’t know why. Ty’s supposed to be on the second floor. Come on.”
Whatever Lysander’s reasons, they would be deadly.
Bexley followed Owen down the stairs to the second floor. In the living area, a bookshelf concealing a door was open, revealing a hallway.
