"So, whose side are you on?" Seby asked.
Ike said, "Both."
He knew in his heart that his parents were gone. But he wasn't ready to let them rest in peace until he knew what happened to them. Where was the plane? Had it crashed near the border of Ethiopia and Sudan like they thought? Or had it gone down in Lesotho as the Brazhensky thugs had implied? He had to know the truth.
"Can I have a moment alone?" Ike asked.
Seby hesitated, then acquiesced. "I’ll be down the hill. Text me when you're ready to go back to the compound."
Ike hobbled forward, then knelt before the massive marble stone with his father's name engraved. Pressing his forehead against the cool stone, he closed his eyes, unwilling to shed tears.
"I thought I'd have more time to make you proud. Show you that I could do real good in the world," Ike whispered.
A soft touch lingered on his neck as smooth arms embraced him. He didn't flinch or budge. He knew who was with him.
She had come back to save him.
"Your father was always proud of you," Ava said, pressing her face into his neck. "You were his greatest accomplishment.”
"Doubt he felt that way after I turned into a monster. Hired killer for the PISCOs. He never knew how many lives I took. Playing judge and executioner for the Palmchat Islands government."
"Forgiveness isn’t earned. It’s freely given."
Ike heard his father's voice overplayed with hers. One of Pastor Peter's favorite sayings. "How did you know my father?"
"Doesn't matter. All that matters is that you never stop looking for the truth," Ava said.
She turned his head to face her, cradling it in her gentle palms. Their lips met softly at first in a tender kiss, then grew stronger as passion blazed between them. He caressed her lips as she sucked on his tongue, captivating and hypnotizing him with her presence.
Ike needed her. He needed Ava.
Too soon, she pulled away and was gone.
Like a mirage.
Resting his hands on the top of the marble, he pulled himself to stand. The fading orange sun rays cast an ethereal glow over the monument, illuminating a small, rusted bronze key on top.
Ike reached for it and held the small metal in his hand.
Had it always been there?
Or had she left it for him to find?
Chapter 41
This was not part of the plan.
Rocco trudged up the steps to the patio of his bungalow. He didn’t have to sniff his wrinkled clothes. He knew he reeked of the finest Bishops Reserve Rum. After getting details on El Sombro’s shipment from the meeting with the PC-5, Rocco flew back to St. Felipe to check on Ike.
He’d found the man standing in the middle of an impressive memorial constructed for his parents, who were presumed dead. And he looked broken. Staring into Ike’s face, he saw the same haunted look he’d seen in his own eyes after watching his dad’s murder. A guilt-stricken grief that lessened but never entirely goes away. When Ike suggested they return to the compound for drinks, he knew it was more than a request. Ike needed a lifeline.
Ike had opened the expensive bottle, and they’d swapped stories about their fathers. The good men they’d been and growing up wanting to make them proud. It was morning by the time he’d convinced the man to get some rest.
As he waited for a respectable hour to call Lachlan and ask for a flight back to the Dominican Republic, Rocco couldn’t sleep.
El Sombro had upped the stakes to a level Rocco had never imagined. Crossed lines Rocco didn’t think would be crossed, and it left him unsettled. Disillusioned. Disgusted.
Reaching for the front door, Rocco stumbled forward as it flung open.
