“My real name isn’t Renee? What is it?”
“Araneae.”
The syllables played on repeat in my head, bringing back memories I couldn’t catch. “I’ve heard that before, but not as a name.”
She nodded. “I always thought it was ironic how you loved insects. Your name means spider. Your birth mother thought it gave you strength, a hard outer shell, and the ability to spin silk, beautiful and strong.”
“Araneae,” I repeated aloud.
Her stern stare turned my way. “Forget that name. Forget Araneae and Renee. We were wrong to allow you any connection. Embrace Kennedy.”
My heart beat rapidly in my chest as I examined all of the paperwork. My parents, the ones I knew, were thorough in their plan B. I had a birth certificate, a Social Security card, a passport matching the more accurate age, and the driver’s license that I’d seen earlier, all with my most recent school picture. According to the documentation, my parents’ names were Phillip and Debbie Hawkins. The perfect boring family. Boring or exciting, family was something I would never have again.
“And what happened to Phillip and Debbie?” I asked as if any of this made sense.
“They died in an automobile accident. Their life insurance funded your trust fund. You are an only child.”
The car crept forward in the line of traffic near the departure terminal of O’Hare Airport. A million questions swirled through my head, and yet I struggled to voice even one. I reached out to my mother’s arm. “I don’t want to leave you.”
“I’ll always be with you, always.”
“How will we talk?”
She lifted her fist to her chest. “In here. Listen to your heart.”
Pulling to the curb and placing the car in park, she leaned my direction and wrapped me in her arms. The familiar scent of lotions and perfumes comforted me as much as her hug. “Know you’re loved. Never forget that, Kennedy.”
I swallowed back the tears brought on by her calling me by the unfamiliar name.
She reached for her wrist and unclasped the bracelet she always wore. “I want you to have this.”
I shook my head. “Mom, I never remember seeing you without it.”
“It’s very important. I’ve protected it as I have you. Now, I’m giving it to you.” She forced a smile. “Maybe it will remind you of me.”
“Mom, I’d never forget you.” I looked down to the gold bracelet in the palm of my hand as my mom picked it up, the small charms dangling as she secured it around my wrist.
“Now, it’s time for you to go.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“You do. Go to the counter for the airlines. Hand them your ticket and the correct identification. Stay strong.”
“What about those people?” I asked. “Who are they? Will you be safe?”
“I’ll worry about me once I’m sure that you’re safe.”
“I don’t even know who they are.”
Her gaze moved from me to the world beyond the windshield. For what seemed like hours, she stared as the slight glint of sunshine reflected on the frost-covered January ground. Snow spit through the air, blowing in waves. Finally, she spoke, “Never repeat the name.”
“What name?”
“Swear it,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion.
It was almost too much. I nodded.
“No. I need to hear you promise me. This name can never be spoken aloud.”
“I swear,” I said.
“Sparrow, Allister Sparrow. He’s currently in charge, but one day it will be his son, Sterling.”
I wished for a pen to write the names down; however, from the way they sent a chill down my spine, I was most certain that I’d never forget.
WEB OF SIN is completely available: SECRETS, LIES, and PROMISES.
A peek at TWISTED, book #1 of the Tangled Web Trilogy
Kader
The conference hall shimmered with the light from the oversized chandeliers. The atmosphere was set, the enticement dangling like a baited hook, and the gullible fish swimming about, ready to open wide while the sharks lurked in the depths.
I didn’t belong here, that sentiment as obvious to me as to the others in my presence.
I wasn’t an eager fish, willing to follow the school wherever the masses led.
Extending the analogy, I also wasn’t a fisherman.
I was a hunter, standing motionless in knee-deep water, spear in hand, ready for the kill. Bring on the sharks. I was ready for them to show me their rows of teeth.
Dressing in a custom suit, shaving my face, and taming my hair didn’t hide the truth beneath. All around me, the prey sensed the danger. A formal announcement of my presence or boast of my wealth, power, and abilities wasn’t necessary. As one who truly possessed all three, the declaration preceded me, coming in silent waves radiating through the air and transmitted wordlessly.
One by one, fellow attendees moved about me, glasses of champagne in hand and their eyes averted, unable or unwilling to meet my gaze. Their only outward acknowledgments that they’d had an encounter with me were their whispers and mumbles as they uttered meaningless apologies under their breath.
“Excuse me.”
“Sorry.”
I didn’t respond. There was no need to leave memories of my attendance other than a passing shadow.
The suit I’d worn was meant to allow me to fade into the crowd. In reality it showcased the gaping difference. My custom designer original was crème brûlée amongst a tray of Twinkies—lobster amid fast food.
Many of the people in this banquet hall were here to add their names to research, research few of them came close to understanding. Their riches were primarily on paper, their names listed in Forbes magazine for the world to lay prostrate at their feet. The truly wealthy didn’t require a magazine to substantiate their worth. With our riches spread throughout the world, we did our best to keep its presence beneath the radar.
Scanning the faces of the invited guests, their attempts of deception and pretense were as clear as a neon sign. This room was filled with impostors consumed by the need to fulfill their lackluster lives—lives devoid of true accomplishment—with the praises of those their money can buy.
Money—in most cases it wasn’t an asset but the expandable depth of their credit.
Acknowledgments.
Recognition.
Their names on a plaque.
I had no more desire to fit in with these imitations of wealth than to dine on the cheap catering being offered or consume the basement-bottom bourbon in my hand.
Fitting in wasn’t my thing or my goal.
I was here for one reason.
An assignment.
A job I agreed to fulfill.
Offers came and went.
I only took the assignments I wanted.
The decision was always mine.
I worked for no man but myself, on my schedule, as I saw fit.
My work had made me a wealthy man, taking me into the shadows and leaving me in the dark. Rarely did I accept an offer that brought me into the light.
However, even I could make an exception.
There was something about this assignment, this target...something that superseded my usual rules. I didn’t need the money. I could spend the rest of my life hidden away on my ranch or sailing the seven seas. I vastly preferred my own company to those currently in my presence.