He was all sharp edges with a brooding darkness that set your pulse racing. His eyes blue fathomless pools. It was like looking into a void. Ice cold.
He was a cold hearted assassin. She was trained to take him down.
A Dark AU Van McCann story (thi...
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I never found it easy going home. The good memories still stung and the bad ones festered in dark corners of the huge house that was now only occupied by my mum. She rattled around inside like some kind of ghost, clinging on to a long gone past, always dressed immaculately with her make up and hair just so, like at any moment my dad might suddenly materialise and whisk her off to a fancy restaurant or a dinner dance.
She looked surprised when she answered the door, even though to my knowledge she rarely had visitors and I'd promised her that I'd come. "Lyla! You came... I thought you'd be too busy."
"I said I would didn't I?" I replied, entering the hallway as she stood back to let me in, her eyes flicking down to the holdall that I was carrying. "I... errr... thought I could stay... just for tonight."
My mum didn't protest, but I saw her stiffen as I walked past her. I chose to ignore this, setting my bag down on the floor and making straight for my dad's study.
The sight that greeted me made me suck in a breath, surfaces were littered with sheets of loose paper and the floor was covered too. Every drawer had been removed and emptied of its contents and then strewn aside to leave the empty carcasses of the desk and cabinets.
"I didn't realise how much stuff dad had. Didn't the agency want all this lot back when he died?" I finally turned to my mum.
She stood there, hands limp at her sides, glossy eyed. "Well... you know your father. These were all his own files. I think he might have taken copies, made his own notes. I'm sure he wasn't supposed to but he was so dedicated..."
A wistful smile found its way on to my lips as I looked back through the years, picturing my dad sat at this very desk, head buried in a mountain of paperwork, trying to make connections. My mum always used to ask was he married to her or to the job? It made me think of my own dedication and the information I myself amassed on cases. Whoever coined the phrase 'the apple never falls far from the tree' wasn't wrong when it came to me and my dad.
"What did the police say? Have they got any leads?" I said, stepping forward to leaf through the papers on the desk top.
"They didn't say a lot. They didn't even dust for prints. When I said nothing valuable was taken they just scratched their heads. I wondered if I should call Paul... get someone down here from the agency..."
"I'm here now though aren't I mum?" I quickly interjected. "Don't worry. Just leave it with me. I can do all that needs doing."
I turned to carry on looking through the files, expecting my mum to leave me, but I could feel her presence there as she lingered. I turned to see her face etched with worry. "What's up?"
