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"We are supposing a lot about this."
"I guess we are." Assumptions and hypothesis are all we have at the moment.
"The message wasn't for me. It was for someone else. It was for Carter Turnbridge's bastard son. A warning or-"
"This could just be a warning to Carter. You don't know who your father is."
"Then why give you the clues?"
"So, I can do the big reveal and introduce you to your father."
Knox seems certain this Carter bloke is my dad, but he doesn’t know what I went through to get here. No one living knows my story, and I have a sudden urge to fill the silence with the tale of my past.
"My mother was called a street walker. We moved around very much; she taught me to take what we needed to live. She wanted to come here to give me a better life. She said if there was only thing she could do it was put a roof over my head. When she pay for travel, I was certain she handed the men enough money to buy a house, but each time, we travelled closer to the distant land she called England. We were cramped in the back of lorries, or in suitcases in the train." The train was the worst part. It was so cold in the unheated cargo carriage. Mama called it a snap frost. It was ten degrees colder than expected. Many died. People fought for their stuff. They killed for their stuff. Mama and me were lucky. Small was good. We could hide in a suitcase each. It was warmer, but I still watched the cold turn desperate people into monsters and icicles.
When we got here, a man took everything we had, including my mama's passport, and our birth certificates. Gavriil met us and brought us here, but my mother had lost her money when the man took our things. Gavriil said he would get Mama a job and she could pay him half in money and half in kind. Then she died and I had to pay him. I had no money and he said I wasn't the kind of thing he was looking for, so I paid him in service. I made him good with the questions and information."
The car swerves violently to the left and we come to a halt on the hard shoulder.
"Jesus, Nico, that's terrible. You never said anything."
"He said it was the way it was done. I thought you knew."
"Your debt to Gavriil is paid in full, do you understand? You don't have to do anything like that again. I'll look after you."
"Nothing is free," I whisper.
"Love is." Knox hugs me as best as our two seat belts will allow.
"Love is never free."
"True. There is a cost, but the fee is to love back.” Knox has the proof written in the smile across his face. He shares the pain of my past with me.
"How can I love you back when you love him? Porter deserves all of you."
"You deserve both of us. Without condition, Knox insists firmly. What Gavriil did to you was wrong. So very wrong. I was too busy being selfish to see what was happening. Will you allow me to make amends?"
"If it please you."
"It does. Very much."
Chapter thirty-six
Knox
Pullingoverwasmorefor my sake than for Nico's. I couldn't focus on driving. Not only did I abandon him, I abandoned him in a terrible place. No one knew much about his mum before they came, or even once she was here. She never smiled or anything, it was easy to assume she'd earned a wage from men and now she was unsure how to look at us. She looked at the boy the same way. He was her translator, even though he didn't speak English. All he needed was a little context to get him started and he picked it up quickly. I can see why my sister warmed to him, keeping him entertained while his mum did what she did. Had I known she was on her back paying a debt she didn't owe, I would have done more than adopt the little brat. Ignorance is not an excuse. I'm ashamed of it. But Nico's past is not a mess I can fix in a lay-by on our way to God knows where. Rescuing Porter has to come first. Then time, money and attention will fix Nico.
I resume driving, knowing my answers lie with Carter Turnbridge, but right now I don't even know the question.
Either this is about Nico, and he is Carter's son. The kidnapping was a message to Carter himself, and yet we have no word from Carter.
Or this is about someone else. If Nico's message was for Carter's bastard son, only that person would know.
I don't know who Porter's dad is.
We never uncovered any records of the father. He wasn’t on the birth certificate. No one paid child support, no one helped the mother.
I turn to Nico, inhaling a deep breath, about to confess my new thought on who Carter Turnbridge's bastard son could be.
