Snake Eyes (The Masks Series Book 3) (14 page)

Caity rubbed my shin with her foot, giving me a tender smile before quietly shuffling the pack. She kept glancing at Gramps, and I could tell by her expression that she was seeing something I wasn’t. I was smart enough to realize that Dad’s disappearance probably hurt Gramps as much as it hurt me, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask. Talking about my father always put me in such a foul mood and I didn’t want to spoil the weekend.

“Deal up,” I said softly, lifting my chin at Caity.

She did as I asked, but it was safe to say the mood in the room had been crucified by my snarky comments and without meaning to, I had ruined the evening.

Caitlyn

The best thing to get Eric out of a slump was for him to go surfing. So as soon as we woke up the next morning, I suggested we hit the beach. He knew what I was trying to do and gave me an appreciative kiss for the effort.

It had meant our Saturday started on a much sweeter note, which it most definitely needed to.

I rode my wave into shore, bending my knees and flicking the board up one last time before jumping off into the ocean. The salty water was crisp and cool, waking me up thoroughly. Today was going to be a big day. I had decided last night as I lay beside my gloomy boyfriend that the next day, I would definitely tell him about Kaplan and what I was doing for her.

He deserved the truth and seeing the agony on his face as he sat across the poker table from me just confirmed it. We didn’t talk about Declan Shore at all. I’d heard little snippets here and there, and I knew about the Dodger Stadium incident. It’d been told to me in short, sharp sentences and when I’d try to venture into an in-depth conversation about the reasons why his dad might have done it, I was cut off. Eric didn’t want to go there and I had to respect that.

I stood up, slicking back my hair, and noticed that Clayton Shore was sitting on the beach watching us. His elbows were resting on his knees, his toes buried in the cool, morning sand.

Collecting my board, I glanced over my shoulder.

“Hey, Eric! Going in now!” I raised my hand and waved at him.

He gave me a thumbs-up and turned back to the ocean. I could tell he was in a zone, working through his feelings. Tucking the board under my arm, I walked up the beach, swamped by nerves. How the hell would he react to my revelation this afternoon? I could see a night surf in his immediate future. I cringed. I really didn’t like him surfing in the dark, but he’d probably need it after I revealed my lies.

“Looking good out there.” Clayton smiled as I dropped the board onto the sand and unfastened the leash around my ankle.

“Thanks.” I grabbed the towel he was holding out to me and rubbed my face dry before flicking it out and unzipping my wetsuit. I wriggled out of it and sat down beside Eric’s grandpa, mirroring his stance.

“You sleep okay?” The sand felt good against my damp skin as I wiggled my toes, feeling the grains grind between them.

Clayton shrugged. “As well as I could.” He huffed out a sigh and ran a hand over his bald head. “I shouldn’t have been so snappy. The kid’s got a right to be mad with his father; the guy let him down big-time. I just thought...hoped...by now that he would have forgiven him. He’s been harboring that anger and hurt for too long.”

“I guess it’s hard to forgive when there’s been no resolution. For all Eric knows, his father could be dead. To just disappear like that is so bizarre.” I stole a sidelong glance at Clayton, wondering if I’d snatch a glimmer of what I caught the night before. The mask began to slip, so I ripped it off and went for it. “I’m surprised you’ve never tried to find him.”

Bingo.

There it was.

A flash of guilt, knowledge, something. He had a secret, something he’d never shared with his grandson, a nugget of truth locked away inside him.

“You did, didn’t you? What happened?”

Clayton sighed, a long, heavy one this time. His face washed with pain.

“It was partly my doing.” His brows bunched together, tears springing into his eyes. I threw his mask back on and noticed his tough facade was dry and void of emotion. I let the mask slip away as he kept talking. “After the last time he let Eric down, that day at Dodger Stadium. Shayna called me in a rage, telling me my son was a loser and what he’d done to Eric. I was livid, humiliated that my own offspring could treat his kid so badly. I called him that night and told him to leave the boy alone. If all he was going to do was break his heart, it was better if he wasn’t even around. I told him he was a loser and to never call me again. I was so mad.”

His unmasked tears started to fall as regret and anger grew with force. “I never expected him to actually listen to me, but he did. Went AWOL on us all.”

His lips wobbled and he sniffed.

It was heartbreaking to watch and I felt my own tears forming, so I quickly pulled Clayton’s mask back up. It would be easier to hear the stone-faced recount, I was sure of it.

I gazed at Clayton’s calm expression, finding his mild sadness easier to bear. “So you stepped in, took on the role of dad for Eric?”

“Not at first.” He shook his head. “I still had my responsibilities with the Marines and at the time, Eric’s mom was with a pretty good guy, but then things changed...”

“Oh, you mean Shayna scored a new man?” I couldn’t help the dry tone; that woman had been around.

Clayton didn’t react to my sarcasm. Instead he went still, his lips deepening into a frown, his eyes locked on the horizon. Fear skittered through me.

“Clayton, what happened?”

“He made me swear never to tell,” the old man whispered.

“Who?” I turned my body to face him properly, peeling back the mask again and seeing the anguish, the fear. “Declan? Your son called you?”

Clayton’s jaw clenched. “About a year after I told him to leave us alone, he left a message on my phone telling me he’d gone too far. The boy sounded scared, real genuine fear. Maybe that’s why I believed him.” Clayton’s voice was down to a low whisper now, like he was retelling a dramatic ghost story. The scary thing about this was it felt real, because it actually was.

“What did he do?”

“He didn’t say. He just told me he had to disappear for good to keep everyone safe. He told me to take care of his boy and that if a guy called Marchant ever came looking for one of us, I had to get Eric out of there as fast as I could.” Clayton sniffed. “He also said he was sorry for letting us both down and begged me to keep an eye on Eric, make sure he didn’t turn out to be like him.”

Clayton scrubbed a hand over his face and blinked a couple of times.

“I tried to get in touch with Dec, but he was gone. Maybe I should have called the police, but something in my gut told me to trust my son and leave it alone. I don't know who Marchant is, but the way Dec said his name..." Clayton pursed his lips. "The man's a threat, and thank God he's never surfaced." Clayton pointed out at the ocean. “My son asked me to do one thing: look after that kid in the water. Eric was fifteen by that stage and I had to admit, I was scared. I had no idea what Declan had gotten himself into.” He huffed and closed his eyes. “But I promised myself to watch over my only grandson, and that’s why I stepped in when Eric got real bad.”

“His rage stage,” I mumbled.

“That’s the one. Had a temper just like his daddy. I’d seen it all play out before. When my beautiful May died, Declan was eighteen and he didn’t cope too well. Hell, neither of us did. I was in so much pain, I threw myself into work and Declan just...” Clayton shook his head. “Got lost.”

I gently squeezed his shoulder, actually feeling his torture as if it were my own. “It’s not your fault,” I whispered.

“Yeah, it was,” he croaked. “That’s why I couldn’t fail Eric.”

“You know, he always says you saved his life. Taking him out of school and into the wilderness like you did. It was just what he needed.”

“Probably should have done the same with Dec, but it was too late by then.”

“Why have you never told Eric this?”

“I’d planned on it, but when I finally got a hold of that hurting little kid, I couldn’t do it. His rage toward his father was unshakeable. I figured if I told him the truth, he’d just hate Declan more for being a loser and putting us all in danger.”

I turned back to the ocean in time to see Eric jump up on his board and ride the wave, blissfully unaware of our conversation. “I wonder what your son did.”

“I have no idea. Probably got himself into debt to this Marchant guy. That boy couldn’t resist the money or the cards. The amount of times I had to bail him out…” Clayton punched out a hard laugh that quickly dissipated. “That call, though, that one was different.” His lips pursed and he shook his head. “You know, for all Eric’s hatred towards the man, I think Declan really loved his son and I think he’d do anything to save Eric’s life.”

“You should tell Eric that.”

“It’s been too long now; the boy’d no doubt turn all his anger back at me for hiding the truth for so long. You know how fragile his trust is. I don’t want to be the one to shatter it.”

I swallowed, dread bubbling in my stomach. The afternoon was going to suck. Closing my eyes, I drew in a breath.

One conversation at a time, Caity.

I turned back to Eric’s grandpa. “He needs closure over this whole thing. Maybe if he knew his father disappeared out of love, he’d be able to move on.”

Clayton grunted, his right shoulder hitching up as if he agreed with me, but didn’t really want to.

His expression changed to a sunny smile and I glanced back at the sand to see Eric running up the beach towards us.

“Mouth shut, honey. I’ll tell him in my own good time.”

Clayton rose from the sand before I could argue, wiping the sand off his shorts before waving at Eric and heading back to the house.

“He still mad with me?” Eric laid his board down next to mine and snatched up his towel.

“No.” I shook my head. “He’s just going in to get breakfast started.”

Eric gave me a skeptical frown.

I raised my hands and forced a light laugh. “Can you seriously imagine that guy holding a grudge against you? His cherished grandson? Come on.”

Eric snickered, tucking the damp locks behind his ear before kneeling down in front of me.

“Feeling better?” I ran my foot up the side of his leg.

“You know I do.”

I chuckled, brushing my teeth over my lower lip as he came towards me for a kiss. I relished the taste of his salty skin, tempted to pull him on top of me. The beach was practically empty bar a few surfers in the water. They wouldn’t mind, would they?

I pushed Eric away before I succumbed to temptation. I’d die if Clayton came back down telling us breakfast was ready, only to find us tangled up together on the sand. Touching Eric’s face, I soaked in his adoring expression then peeled off his mask. Last night’s conversation was still weighing on him. Peeling away a few more layers, I could see the hurt and disappointment. They weren’t buried as deeply today and I wondered if I should be unsettling them even more. But I had to. I loved Eric and he deserved the truth.

“Hey, so after breakfast, I was wondering if you wanted to go hiking, just the two of us.” I tried to keep my expression light, hoping he’d assume I had a little love-making session planned. The idea was actually to use that part to soften him up and then tell him. I knew that was devious, but at least if he was going to storm away from me, he’d be storming away from a naked version of me and it might be a little harder for him to leave.

“That sounds like the perfect way to spend my day.” His smile was exquisite as he stood and reached for my hand. I let him pull me up and we collected our stuff. 

My nerves were in a frenzy as we walked up the beach. Yes, telling him was the right decision and that part felt great, but I was also really scared. I just hoped I could make him see my reasoning.

We paused at the road and checked both ways before crossing, my steps faltering as I spotted a familiar-looking car on the other side of the road.

Shit!

Was that Kaplan?

I squinted and noticed the shape was all wrong.

No, that shadow behind the wheel had to be Agent Rhodes.

How the hell did he find me?

I’d replied to Kaplan’s
Where the hell are you
text on the way down last night, saying I was out of town. I’d kept it brief.

Out of town. Will call when I get back.

Then I’d turned my phone off, vowing to leave it in my bag until I returned on Sunday.

She wasn’t even supposed to be contacting my private cell anyway, and yet she’d gone and used it twice in the last week. I was still livid with her for calling me when I was in Eric’s bed. What the hell!

“Babe, are you okay?”

“Huh?” I looked away from the car and forced a smile at Eric.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” I blinked innocently and headed across the road.

As we moved towards the narrow path leading to Clayton’s place, I stole a quick glance over my shoulder. Rhodes was getting out of the car and firing a look my way. Eric turned down the path and I glanced at the agent one more time. His shades were off and he was giving me a steely message that said we had to talk...and we had to talk now.