Page 121 of Hostile Saint

The video continued. “Tate, my little boy, there was, uh, a place that housed many children, of all ages. Kids were sent there for different reasons, but the people who were supposed to take care of them were… uh, not kind…”

My dad was talking as if not sure how old I would be when seeing this and feared to say too much. That’s when I understood that the journal kept the gruesome details.

He said, “I know of this place because, as a child… I lived there.”

My heart thundered. Did they hurt him? Like they did me?

My dad almost whispered the next part, “It is where I met your mother.” He smiled as he spoke of her. “The most beautiful girl in the world; Melony.” Quickly getting lost in thought, and losing his joy of the thought of her, he added, “With help, we were the only ones who managed to escape one night. Scared, we ran away.” He rubbed nervous hands along his jeaned thighs. “The bad people who hurt kids got scared and shut down their facility.” He shrugged as if it pained him to remember. “I was so young. Only seventeen.”

Just like me.

“I thought they were gone… Well, they were for a while. It was after we had you,” he tried to smile, but it didn’t last, “they found your mom, and they took her back.”

Staring at the ceiling, he patted his chest as if begging his heart to keep beating. “If you are watching this video, know we did everything—made terrible sacrifices—to find her again.”

It was like watching a slightly older version of me, speaking of failing Lacey.

Chills ran up my spine. Lacey…

Then, my father looked through the camera and straight into my soul. “I love you, son.”

The video ended, freezing on my father’s face.

Time stood still. That was it. No more words would ever be shared from him.

Slowly, I peered to the urn. I love you, too, Dad.

I looked back at the TV. There was something my friends needed to know.

As if my father was giving me strength from above, I managed to speak without breaking down. “That wall.” I pointed to the screen. “That wall behind him.” I swallowed. “That’s Lacey’s kitchen wall.”

Dagger leaned toward the TV. “How the fuck you pick up on that, kid?”

“The details.” I looked to Lynx and tried to smile. “It’s always in the details.”

Dagger grumbled, “Fucking Mini Lynx.”

Lynx’s mouth parted in disbelief before he finally said, “Of course. This makes so much more sense now.” Pulling the journal from his back pocket, he held it up. “That must be the third person who they ran away with. He never mentions her name.”

I sighed, somehow relieved with the revelation, even if it only spurred more questions. “Lacey’s mom tried to help mine.”

Why did she let her daughter suffer?

I may never know that answer. The ‘bad men’ my dad spoke of had already murdered her before I was ever able to ask.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Building Alliances

At first, the words Lynx shared from the journal sounded like a love story. One about a girl, a boy, and their best friend, the three of them up against the world. After running from a living hell, they tried to rebuild a life together in Texas. According to my father’s journal, I was actually born there.

Mind-blowing.

Here I was, with the Stallions, on a path to get back to that state.

The why of my mother’s abduction, at this point, was still unknown to me. I could only assume it was a control tactic to keep my father from sharing their many secrets. Since that action only spurred my father to fight, it seems these people now only kept secrets hidden by burying them. So many dead—sacrificed—so that their true agenda remained a secret.

That true agenda is where Lynx started holding back on me. That true agenda is where the ‘club’ was getting involved. Before I entered the picture, Oz had caught wind of disturbing allegations in his state and was digging for intel. He wanted to know facts before raising an alarm to Lynx.