My Father's House

Chapter 43

Ava informed me later that day that Kael had let go of his flat in the city and would be staying with us. While I sensed this story wasn't entirely true, I didn't question her. Secretly, I was relieved. Ava's character was far from warm and inviting. As much as I wanted time to question my mother, I didn't relish being away from Kael again.

Ava drove us to her home in silence. The light of the outside world seemed to pierce my skull, adding to my constant dull headache. Kael sat beside me in the back seat, hands resting on his knees, eyes surveying our surroundings. I was starting to feel like he was my personal body guard. The story that he had lost his place in London was covering the truth. For some reason, he wanted to stay with me. Before his dedication had made no sense. I wished knowing he wasn't a criminal would have shed more light on his reasoning but in reality, it didn't. I was safe now that I was with Ava and under Interpol protection. Either there was something I still didn't know, or I was missing something obvious. Knowing myself all too well, it was probably the latter.

The clock on the dash read five thirty, and in classic rush hour fashion, the trip proceeded slowly. Ava switched on the radio, a classical station that started with piano but progressed to the ear piercing vibrato of an opera singer.

I took the opportunity to speak to Kael. With the stop and go traffic and boisterous vibrato, Ava was well occupied. The plastic divider between the front and back seat added reassurance that we had some privacy.

I whispered, "How did you find me in the tower?"

He looked down, as if remembering for the first time I was there. "Earpiece," he reminded me.

I glanced toward the front before whispering back, "Explosives?"

"I planted them on the way down. We need to talk later," he said as he glanced up at Ava who seemed oblivious to our conversation. He shook his head and murmured, "What happened to you was my fault, Harper."

I said nothing at first, playing with a button on my sweater. Remembering my actions the night of my capture, I knew that wasn't true. "No, it wasn't. I should have shot when I saw her." I replied firmly. I saw eyes in the rear view mirror and said no more.

We reached Ava's complex a few minutes later. A row of townhouses lined both sides of the street. Boardwalks and five-year-old trees gave the impression of a desirable, up and coming neighborhood. The car stopped in front of one of many identical structures. Once inside, I appreciated the immaculate housekeeping as well as the modern style. The walls were a rich gray color with black and white nature pictures in large frames hung throughout the room. An overstuffed cream sofa sat in the lounge. Ava walked straight through the living room into a guest room, tastefully done in olive green and cream.

"You'll be in here," Ava spoke for the first time since we had arrived. "Kael, could you pick us up something? I'm starving."

She turned to walk away, and Kael looked at me. I shrugged. I supposed I should accept that at times, he would have to leave me alone with her.

Kael left with a cap pulled low over his forehead, obscuring his face. I followed Ava into the kitchen and wondered if she had created this opportunity for us to talk. The kitchen was similarly styled to the rest of the home in gray and white. Though her modern decor appealed to me, I couldn't help noting the difference between Ava's stark taste and the colorful, eclectic style of my New York apartment. Between the granite countertops and oversized stainless steel appliances, Ava had spared no expense. She poured herself a glass of red wine, sipping it slowly with her hip against the edge of the island.

I folded my arms and leaned on the opposite edge of the rather large island, trying to settle my nerves. She took another sip, saying nothing.

Finally, I asked, "So, it's true?"