Page 88 of Ethan's Sky
“Could it have been someone, say, more dangerous than some asshole kid Emily picked up at a party? Is it possible the boyfriend had ties to someone Ghost or George would have considered to be a bigger threat?A personal rival perhaps?”I know what he’s saying without saying it.The Devil’s Order.
“Where’s my uncle? Where’s Ghost? They’ll be after him next.”Skyler’s words replay in my head.
“Son of a bitch!”
“Well, it would make sense why Skyler was hiding with afamily friendthen. One with very specific connections and skills. Judging by the look on your face, I’m assuming now you understandwhyshe was there as well, aye?”
“Shit,” I stand heading for the door, only to stop with my hand on the knob.
“Go on. Go talk to the lass.”
“That may be easier said than done.”
“Why?”
“She may not want to talk to me…ever.”
“What did you do, Ethan?”Kieran groans.
“I accused her of being a club whore for Eli and his men.” My stomach drops. My head hits the door, while my shoulders drop.” Then I blamed her for her father’s murder. And told her I hope whoever killed George finds her.”
Fuck. Me.
“Well, son. You better learn how to grovel, and fast,” He chuckles. “Better yet, you better find a place to hide yourself. I wouldn’t want to be you when Ghost, Gabe, or the rest of those men find out what you’ve done.”
“Fuck” I have to get to church.
Then I’ll find Skyler and have a talk.
19
SKYLER
“Excuse me,” A low gravely, voice pulls me from my thoughts. The man sitting at the counter beside me, is wearing worn Metallica shirt and a leather jacket. Something about him looks familiar, but I can’t quite place him in my mind and the vibe he puts off says he’s up to no good.
He’s a tall, broad-shouldered man who looks to be maybe a few years older than me. “You’re George Sinclair’s daughter, Skyler, right?” His dark eyes study my features. I watch as his gaze travels over my body. A shiver runs down my spine, only not the kind I get when Ethan’s eyes traverse my body. This guy’s scrutiny gives me an unwanted, creepy feeling.
“Uh, do I know you?”
“I’m sorry. My name’s Arthur. I worked with George. We were all sad to hear about his passing,” Arthur reaches for the countertop with is tattooed hands, settling himself on the stool beside me. “I hope you don’t mind. I saw a picture of you in his truck once. I thought I recognized you sitting here and wanted to offer my condolences.”
He seems sincere, but I can’t help but feel like something’s off with this situation.
“So, George said you were living with family out of state. How long have you been away from Oak Ridge?” Arthur flags down Misty ordering himself black coffee. When he turns his head, I notice what looks like a devil tattoo on the side of his neck. Austin makes eye contact with me from where he sits a few seats away, his brows furrowed as he starts tapping on his phone. I give a subtle shake of my head silently asking him not to make a scene.
Arthur could be someone who Daddy worked with, but I never heard his name mentioned. The other thing sending up red flags is the way he suggested I had been away with family. Anyone who knew us, knew Mama had passed on and Daddy and I only had each other and Ghost. This man is clearly lying.
Not wanting Arthur to know I’m on to his lies, I play along with his assumptions.
“I was staying with my uncle and his wife for a bit up north until I got the call about Daddy passing.” I sip my coffee, making eye contact with Patsy who’s whispering in Austin’s ear while shuffling Misty into the kitchen.
Shit. He’s texting the calvary, I’m sure of it.
Arthur places something on the counter beside my mug and says, “I thought you might want this. It seemed like it might have been special to George.” He pulls his hand back to reveal a red, white, and black beaded keychain with the words “I love you Daddy” spelled out in colored alphabet beads.
I made the keychain for Daddy the Christmas after Mama died. We didn’t have a lot of money at the time, so I made his gifts with things I found around the house. He told me it meant more than a store-bought present because I had taken the time to make it with my own two hands. He hung it from the rearview mirror in the cab of his truck as a reminder to drive careful because he had me waiting on him at home.
I pick up the keychain noticing it’s been cut from its place of honor, not untied the way Daddy would’ve done it.
