At the sound of Herb's voice, Carson's gaze snapped up. It wasn't the first time Herb had shown up on a bad day and helped calm Carson's nerves. How the older man did it, he'd never know. Sighing deeply, he nodded. "There's a pizza that just needs pepperoni on it, then throw it in the oven. What I'm cleaning up was the first one."
Once the floor was clean again, Carson sank down in one of the chairs at he little table, just letting the girls handle things for a few minutes. He knew just by looking at him that Herb would know something was wrong. He'd never been able to hide anything from him. He took off his ballcap and ran a hand through his hair. "Funny how you can be on the mountaintop and in the valley all in one day," he commented dryly. "I'm gonna get motion sickness if I keep this up."
He had family he hadn't even known about. It boggled Travis' mind. As injured as he was, frustration and inner hurt still rose. "Well then, at least I wasn't the only one in the dark," he grumbled. Something told him Angel didn't deserve to be griped at though. He was pretty sure all the blame was on his dad for this one. But why? Why would he have kept his family a secret? Why not even mention it through all these years?
"I have no idea what's been going on, but from what I heard from the guys who held me, Dad's not exactly an innocent party. I don't know what he did or what he owes to who, but it seems family's not the only secret he's kept."
Dr. Hawks came into the small office at Brookshire where he'd been told two men from the Elite were waiting. Seeing Nate and Garret, he offered them handshakes. "Hi, I'm Dr. Hawks. Normally I wouldn't be involved in things like this, but because of the delicate situation, I'll be helping you gain whatever you need to help figure out this case."
Garret shook his hand, but did quirk one eyebrow. Hawks? As in Justin Hawks? It couldn't be a coincidence. He kept his mouth shut, though.
"So..." Dr. Hawks looked between them, unsure of names or who was in charge. "I have some surveillance footage...is that what you need to look at?"
372. Just a number. Just a being who should have died were it not for
memories keeping him alive. Memories of hope. Memories of love. It had
been love that brought him here. A righteous vengeance born of love for
another. Love for justice. Love for what was right.
But
even for a man whose actions were righteous, no rescuers came. The hope
of salvation from this place was lost amidst the drifting days. To
dwell on thoughts of being pulled from the pit of despair became
foolishness. There was no one outside who would come to his aid. He
truly was alone.
Even so, caught in a world of nothing
but pain, a mind can sometimes remove itself from reality and form a
plan - a plan to escape the madness. But often times, the plans fail.
9/25/16
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