Aleatha Romig - Behind His Eyes

Anthony didn’t ask for the rewind reel of Nathaniel’s voice, which continually ran through his subconscious, and he didn’t need it. No, he had an everyday living, breathing reminder of his obligation—his grandfather’s second wife. Perhaps, without Anthony realizing, she was wise with her words. She never told Anthony that he failed his grandfather; instead, she’d subtly remind him that he had yet to succeed. Although her impatience grated on him, she was one of the few people Anthony allowed to fully voice her thoughts—especially when it involved his decisions. He overlooked her redundancy, because she too had lost everything. Anthony knew that if it weren’t for him, she’d have lost more, but the truth stared at him with steel-gray eyes almost every day. It was his failure in controlling his father’s vengeance that cost Nathaniel’s wife dearly.

Overlooking her reminders was Anthony’s penitence. He’d promised Nathaniel that he would look after Marie. If he’d succeeded in stopping his father’s retaliation, things could have been different. When Marie lost her last name, Anthony failed Nathaniel. He also failed his parents the night they died. He wouldn’t fail Nathaniel again.

The way Anthony reasoned, his planning, or procrastination as Marie called it, regarding the vendetta had paid off. Although he allowed her prompts for retaliation, he also reminded her that Anthony Rawlings worked on his own schedule and towards his own goals. Their list of children had grown shorter by the day through natural attrition. Jonathon Burke and his wife, Sherman Nichols and his wife, and now Jordon Nichols and his wife were gone. The original two and their wives passed away of natural causes. He had provided the funds to watch their health fail from afar, but his true interest lay in observing their children and their children. The PI explained that wet leaves were believed to be involved in Jordon and Shirley Nichols’ automobile crash. Anthony didn’t care about the cause, as long as he could cross them off their list. Now, his concern centered on the next generation.

As the plane touched down, his anticipation built … instead of pictures and reports, he would, for the first time, see Emily and Claire Nichols in person.

In an effort to minimize his visibility, Anthony dressed down and walked to the back of the church’s sanctuary. It didn’t take long for him to realize he could easily be lost in the crowd. The Nichols had been well-respected members of their community, and the church was overflowing with mourners. He’d never been to a funeral with so many people willing to speak. Apparently, Jordon had been a first-rate policeman; the church was wall-to-wall with uniformed officers. Shirley had also been a well-loved teacher. As the afternoon wore on, Anthony couldn’t help but watch Claire. She was seated next to her sister, and often, the two held onto one another’s hands. That wasn’t what captivated him. What caught his attention was how Emily had the man to her left. Anthony knew he was John Vandersol, Emily’s longtime boyfriend. Occasionally, Emily would break down and John would console her. Claire, on the other hand, remained steadfast. The pain was visible in her expression, yet only occasionally did she bow her head or wipe her eyes. Her stoic veneer fascinated him. Was she truly that strong? What were her limits? Could she be broken?

Anthony assumed that if he hadn’t lured Simon Johnson away to California, the young man would be present to offer Claire his shoulder. That had been Anthony’s first attempt to manipulate her life, and it had been too easy. He would continue to look for more opportunities.

The preacher spoke, countless people gave their condolences, but Anthony’s mind was on Claire’s future. As he watched her, he thought about all he knew. He didn’t know how long her future would last; however, he did know that it was now at his discretion, and in some way, he would be a part of it.

The first step would be the scholarship at Valparaiso; it would be necessary for her to complete her degree. He’d already started the groundwork. After all, he’d originally assumed that he’d be at the Nichols’ funeral due to more manipulation. The fact that the vengeance gods looked down and blessed his plans reinforced his determination.

After the service concluded, the caskets were wheeled down the center aisle followed by the family. The church was a murmur of whispers as organ music played from somewhere above. Anthony couldn’t suppress his curiosity as Emily, John, and Claire headed his direction. Soon, they would pass mere feet away. If he reached past the older gentleman on his left, he could seize Claire’s hand; however, he knew that couldn’t happen, even though, as she moved toward him, she had already paused a few times to hold a mourner’s hand and accept his or her condolences. It wouldn’t look right; Anthony didn’t look sad. He wasn’t heartbroken over the loss—no, he was intrigued.

Then, just as the family neared, the man on Anthony’s left reached forward and spoke. “Emily and Claire, please know how sorry I am for your loss.”

They stopped and each young lady reached out and hugged the older gentleman. It was Claire who responded, “Thank you for coming. I know Dad and Mom would have loved to have seen you.” Her voice was strong despite the burden of her loss.

“You know that I wouldn’t have missed …”

Anthony didn’t listen to the man’s words. He was mesmerized by the green eyes he saw before him. He’d seen them in photographs—he had a whole file. They were different in person, more vivid, alive, and so full of emotion. Sadness prevailed, yet there was something else, Drive? Ambition? Determination? He wanted to gaze longer into their depths, but before he could speak and offer his condolences, Emily smiled sadly at the gentleman and the three were gone.

It was there, in that church, in Indianapolis, Indiana, that Anthony resolved that his and Claire’s paths would cross again. Someday he’d learn just how strong she could be in the face of greater adversity.

To know the rules of the game, you have to be educated.

—L.L. Cool J.

Mindlessly, the pad of Anthony’s thumb ran laps around the smooth rim of the crystal tumbler. He wasn’t thinking about the glass in his hand or even the Evan Williams bourbon swirling near the bottom. No, Anthony’s thoughts were centered on the monitors above his grand desk. From multiple, well-placed cameras, he could watch Claire move about the S.E suite.

During his time in Europe, the appeal of the woman held captive in his home had begun to fade. In all honesty, having acquired his goal, his return home seemed somewhat anticlimactic. After all, the hunt had taken years, and with each bit of new information, and each time he manipulated fate, Anthony felt invigorated. For a long time, Anthony had known that one day his target would be his.

The capture was all that he’d imagined and more—the true climax! From the moment he stepped into the Red Wing, Anthony knew he’d succeed. He was, first and foremost, a businessman with an impeccable record of success, especially when an endeavor had his full commitment. Whether in business or in pleasure, Anthony understood that planning and patience were essential elements for success. Before embarking on any deal, Anthony Rawlings thoroughly assessed the situation, eliminated the risks, and accentuated the assets.

This acquisition was different. Unlike the average acquisition, such as one of a company, this acquisition had risks that he couldn’t avoid. Sometimes that happened in the game of chance. The first risk was his public interaction with Claire; sitting with her in the Red Wing and taking her out to dinner were undoubtedly perilous. After all, he’s well-known, and the possibility of being associated, even coincidentally, with a missing person wouldn’t fit his perfect persona.