Inevitable Truth (Broken Reality A Mystery Thriller Series of Alternate Worlds Book 5) Read online

  BROKEN REALITY

  Inevitable Truth (Book 6)

  Rhiley McCabe

  Copyright © 2020 by Rhiley McCabe

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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  6

  INEVITABLE TRUTH

  “I told you not to call me that.”

  “Mm… Look at you.” William approaches, cocking his head ever so slightly. “Why, you’ve become a man since I last saw you.”

  Their dark eyes scrutinize each other as they had done on the plane. This time, however, confusion holds no sway over Gary. He should be furious at the mere sight of the man who had caused him so much frustration. But being the coward-type has its advantages. You can maul over entire would-be conversations as a bystander in your mind, separating yourself from… well, yourself. And that leads to a powerful perspective: objectivity.

  He’s not furious. He’s grateful—happy, even.

  “I’ve made a decision.”

  “HA!” William extends his arms toward Gary. “There’s a certain… confidence about you now. I might even call it cockiness. Shall we discuss it over dinner? I’d so love for you to experience the auction.”

  “Did you hear me?”

  “But I haven’t even let you taste the fullness of the other side yet. I wouldn’t want you to make a hasty decision. What’s that thing they say about all good things?”

  “What other—I don’t care about this or that side. Let’s get this over with.”

  “You should, though. We’re talking about the rest of your existence.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “About your existence? That’s a sh—”

  “About you. I don’t care about playing your games.

  “Games? Gary, you disappoint me. I honestly thought you would have grasped the seriousness of your situation by now.”

  This could go on all night. Forever, potentially. Jaw clenched, he takes a deep breath. There’s something his mother always said when he was younger. He doesn’t know how he responded to it as a child, but to his grown-up self, it made no sense. A useless piece of advice he believed he would never need. But, as retrospect would have it, the useless advice is exactly what he will use.

  When faced with a lunatic, give him what he wants, and he’ll grow bored with you soon enough.

  “Let’s have breakfast instead.”

  William flashes his brilliant white teeth.

  Gary stares at the time on his cell’s screen. Every minute he wishes by ticks on slower than the one before. It’s only 10:08. He has to wait the entire miserable day to entertain that madman. They could have just had breakfast. It could all have been over. Who knows, he might even have been holding Val in his arms by now.

  But that’s not William’s style.

  The man thrives on his mind games and creating the illusion that he’s in complete control of every situation he finds himself in. And, most probably, he is. There’s probably not a situation he enters that he did not orchestrate. He’s the kind of man that always gets what he wants, while Gary is the kind of man that always gives what others want: a perfect combination.

  He tries Amanda again. No answer. Go figure.

  It’s 10:10.

  “URGH…” two hands cover his face. As they slide down, they examine the contours beneath them.

  His jawline feels like dry, nipped grass left in the scorching sun with no water—a trivial but distracting thought. He tries to remember the last time he actually had a stubble. It doesn’t take long: just over seven years ago. Just before he sold his soul to his m… Jennifer. She had always been ‘Jennifer’ when he didn’t agree with her or when she upset him to the point of not deserving to be called ‘Mother.’ She’ll never deserve that title again.

  Val liked it. Said she hated the smooth skin under her hands when she touched his face. He had always let his beard grow to a stubble. Why, he doesn’t know. Perhaps it was his rebel signature. But that’s how she met him: stubble, scruffy, and… carefree would have been nice. Although he hardly remembers his life before becoming a corporate slave, he does remember being serious; always serious and calculating. What ironic traits for a man who pursued the arts with such passion. Not that he remembers it—the passion—it’s an assumed fact, because barely a day passed that Jennifer did not say something along the lines of, “If only you showed two percent of the passion you had for art,” or, “where has all that artistic energy gone?”

  He likes art. The process of capturing the real world on a piece of paper or canvas is a fascinating one. But he walked away. Logically, it means he couldn’t have been passionate about it. One does not simply abandon passion… like Val and the kids. He is passionate about them, because he can never walk away. He’ll give up everything—but not them.

  Is Val passionate about him, though?

  Val won’t like this…

  Every molecule in his being halts at the thought. What wouldn’t she like…? How easy it would be to scoff at the memory of a conversation that may or may not have occurred while he was unconscious. How wonderful it would be to imagine that thing Val wouldn’t like… Val wouldn’t like this hospital. Val wouldn’t like this mess her husband is in. Val wouldn’t like this William. And therein lies the problem, the thing that prevents him from making a conclusion to ease his anxiety about what she wouldn’t like: the rest of the conversation he had heard. The ‘him’ they talked about… the ‘him’ that, in context, could not be separated from Val: William.

  A tear rolls down his cheek.

  I’d never hurt you… I’d never turn my back on you… I’d die for you… But I’d also die without you… What have I done to deserve your betrayal? Can you forgive me? We could start over. You, me, the kids… just the four of us. We can do that, can’t we?

  There’s nothing in the world she’d give him up for. That’s what she said. He believed her. Why shouldn’t a man believe such sweet words from such sweet lips? Especially from his wife, the mother of his children… he still believes her. At least, he wants to…

  10:18

  He sighs. If only his mere breath had the power to propel him into the evening hours. It does, however, result in a knock on the door. He eyes the door as if it can be offended by the irritation in his eyes. That’s not the kind of distraction he was hoping for. Another knock.

  “Gary?”

  He wants to jump up, but shock and disbelief keep him grounded. It sounds like…

  Can it be?

  “Gary, sweetheart, you in there…?”

  He needs no other clue. It’s her.

  He takes a breath, holds on to it, and tries his best to rise calmly. But the excitement overwhelms his body. In seconds, maybe less, his hand plucks the door open.

  “Took you long enough…”

  It’s Gray Eyes. One hand supports her weight against the door frame. A pair of glossy black heels dangle from the hand’s fingers.


  “You’re pouting. Are you still angry about earlier…?” She sounds just like her…

  Gary backs away as she steps closer. Apparently, it’s her invitation to enter. Still she advances, her enormous eyes locked on his.

  “I uh… thought you were someone else.” He’s running out of space.

  “And who might that be, mm?”

  He halts. “Why are you here?”

  “Excuse me?” Now she backs off; anger immediately replaces her playful expression.

  “What do you want?”

  “What do I… are you serious?!” Her voice elevates, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “I don’t want you flirting with me. Get out.”

  “It’s Val, isn’t it? She got to you again.”

  “What?!”

  “Damn it!”

  She lunges forward and hammers against his chest.

  He grabs her wrist. “Don’t do that.”

  Her gray eyes look up at him with a mix of pain and anger. She huffs. Now that she’s up close, he realizes how young she is… twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two.

  “You promised that woman wouldn’t become an issue!”

  “That woman?”

  “Go on! Defend her… you just can’t get over that…”

  She plucks herself from his grip. But she’s such a frail thing. He worries for a moment that something broke in the process.

  “Did I hurt—”

  “I can’t go on like this, Gary.” Tears roll over her cheeks in abundance. Then she fiddles with her hands, “You shatter my heart…” she sniffs, “every. Single. Time.”

  “There must be some misunders—”

  His hands fly up to protect his face instinctively as she heaves something in his direction. It clinks against the tiles near his feet. With his eyes fixed to the floor, he barely hears the door shudder as she slams it. He looks at the door and back at the floor.

  This isn’t happening…

  As Gary enters the foyer, he spots a new painting against the wall behind the reception desk. Amanda. He lifts a brow.

  “Mesmerizing, absolutely mesmerizing!” A stranger says.

  As he turns, a blinding light flashes. “That’ll be a fine shot for the front page.”

  “Front…?”

  “Gary?”

  Another flash.

  “Any comments about tonight?” A hopeful individual, ready with a pen and notepad, asks.

  “That’s enough!” Gray Eyes booms. “You’re a bunch of vultures. You can have your time with him after the auction, just like everybody else.”

  They disperse at her scorn.

  “Don’t you look like a million dollars…” it sounds like an admonishment.

  “I don’t know how you’ll take this, miss, but I—”

  “Miss?” She crosses her arms and readies herself to spit poison in his face.

  “Gary.”

  The voice falls on his ears like an angel singing to him from heaven.

  “Amanda!” He swings around, “Amanda, I don’t—”

  She takes hold of his arm and hushes him with her eyes. She nods to Gray Eyes, who nods in return and then subtly retreats.

  “Listen to me, for once… can you do that?” She asks while they look at the painting with her face on it.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Focus. Listen. We don’t have much time.”

  “Who did that?”

  “What?”

  “That painting of you.”

  “Seriously? That’s your painting.”

  “Mine?!” He turns to face her.

  “Shh!”

  “I didn’t paint that.”

  “Uh… yes, you did.”

  “When was I supposed to have time for that, huh? Besides, the hair color is way off; I’d never—.”

  “Really…? Urgh, never mind. You’ve had another blackout, it seems.”

  He looks around. “Another… how much time have I lost?”

  “What’s the last thing you remember?”

  “We had a fight. You said good night. I went to knock on your door this morning, but a man opened it. Speaking of… can you believe he treated me like some celebrity when we met downstairs afterward?”

  “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

  He stares at her. “Did you cut your hair?”

  “You don’t remember anything, do you?”

  “Amanda, that… girl, with the gray eyes.”

  “Jenna?”

  “Right… she thinks there’s something special between us. And she talked with me as if she knew—”

  “Daddy!”

  He swings around.

  “Elizabeth…? Wh—”

  She throws her arms around his neck. “I haven’t seen you in forever!” She backs away, beaming.

  “You’re…”

  “I know… I look ridiculous in a dress. But Mom said I couldn’t come unless—”

  “Mom? Val? Where is she?”

  “Uh…”

  “You look amazing.” Amanda says and gives Elizabeth a hug. “Is your brother here?”

  “No. He’s still,” her gaze drops to the floor, “he’s just having a hard time accepting… all this.”

  “Accepting what?”

  Elizabeth looks at him with furrowed brows, “You okay there, dad?”

  “What is Ruben having a hard time with?”

  Her eyes scan from Gary to Amanda. “The—”

  “Elizabeth.” Amanda shakes her head once and gives Elizabeth some strange eye-gesture, which she apparently understands, because she immediately gives Gary a kiss on the cheek and walks off.

  “She looks…”

  “Look at me.”

  His eyes refuse to tear away from his daughter. It’s her. Without a doubt, it’s her. But something’s different.

  “Gary.” The urgency in Amanda’s voice pulls him back. “I don’t have time to sit down with you and explain everything, okay? I need you to stay calm and trust me. Can you do that?”

  He stares.

  “When was the last time you saw William?”

  “What was she talking about? What’s wrong with my son? Where’s my wife?”

  He scans his surroundings. The crowd has grown. Expectant faces smile as his eyes meet theirs.

  “Gary.” He hears a finger snap next to his ear, “When was the last time you saw William?”

  “This morning… I uh… returned to my room after I couldn’t find you. On the way, I saw room one-o-one. I had this hunch. I knocked. At first, nothing happened. But as I walked away, the door opened and there he was… there the asshole stood with his smug face.”

  “No. No, no… this isn’t happening.” Her hand touches her forehead. “Shit… that’s it?”

  “Well, no. He said we should have dinner. I agreed. That’s why I’m here. I came to give him my choice.”

  The crowd cheers. Amanda looks its way in a sort of panicked daze.

  “Amanda, if I haven’t given him my answer yet… why did I just see my daughter? And why… why does she look older than she’s supposed to be?”

  She turns her attention back to him, staring—not with the sympathetic eyes he’s used to seeing, but with panic. Sheer terror and confusion. But then, as if a light bulb flickers on in an abandoned building, her eyes light up.

  “I don’t think he knows.”

  “Knows? Who? What?”

  “William,” she leans toward him, “come with me.”

  Like a jet, Amanda darts forward, locked onto a target Gary cannot anticipate, see, or comprehend. Before he can map out the route, he’s standing on a balcony. He peers as his eyes take in the unmistakable silhouette of a lone mountain range.

  “This…”

  He looks up. The night sky is dotted with millions of brilliant, mesmerizing lights. His gaze falls back to the earth and circles the balcony.

  “This isn’t London.”

  “No.”

  “But I woke up in London this morn
ing.”

  Amanda shakes her head, “Gary,” she cups his face in her hands. Some part of him deep inside shrieks and demands that he pull away at once, but instinct keeps him calm, grounded, trusting. “That was years ago.”

  He steps back, then blinks, once, twice… before panic can take hold, he breathes a sigh of relief as he thinks about seeing Elizabeth earlier.

  “I gave him my answer?”

  “Well…”

  “And he gave me what I wanted. That’s why Elizabeth is here. He gave me my family. It worked!”

  “You need to listen to me.”

  “Val… I need to find her.”

  Amanda reaches the door before he can. Her hands are spread out. “You can’t go in there before you listen. You never listen… please, just this once. Your irrationality put you here, and it will get you into worse trouble if you don’t pay attention.”

  “Put me here? As in… in Namibia?”

  “You’re divorced.”

  He waits. Patiently. But it doesn’t come. She doesn’t say, ‘got ya!’ And so, he resorts to shaking his head to dismiss her words.

  “That’s impossible.”

  “I told you he would shatter your world.”

  “No…”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No, it can’t be. This… it’s not real. It’s not. The illusion… the trickery… it’s part of that, he just hasn’t stopped playing his game yet.”

  “No.”

  “That’s what it is.” He nods, smiling at her.

  “Gary.”

  “That’s all it is… we’ll figure out how to stop it. You and me, what do you say? You don’t agree with him, anyway. I know.”

  “Gary!” Her eyes produce abundant streams of tears. “This is real.” She walks up to him and grabs his arms, “It’s real.”

  She sinks to the ground with him.

  “How did this happen?”

  “You thought he was after your money. Do you remember that?”

  He nods.

  “He didn’t even know about that inheritance, which was upsetting for him. And then…