Page 120 of Promising You
“What organization?”
He gets up and moves to a high-backed leather chair near the end of the couch. “I belong to a very elite organization that is composed of some extremely powerful men. My son, William, is also a member and so was Royce. I guess some people might call it a secret society although we don’t care for that term. Anyway, because the group is so exclusive and its functions are so top secret we have to find ways to keep our members from speaking out. This file I found would’ve been an excellent tool to blackmail, or incentivize, Royce into keeping quiet. Not that they would’ve ever needed it. Royce wasn’t the type to spill secrets, especially regarding this group.”
“How do you know they don’t have a copy of the file?”
“Royce’s future was very important to the organization. If they knew about you, you would’ve been seen as an obstacle and they would’ve come after you. They would’ve done it years ago. I’m just thankful Royce never did it himself. Well, obviously he tried, but thank God he didn’t succeed.”
“I don’t understand anything you just said, but before you go on, let me get this straight. So you’re not going to kill me. You just wanted to talk. And then what?”
“You’re my granddaughter, Jade. I want to take care of you. Help you with whatever you need. It’s the least I can do given the way you grew up.”
“I don’t need to be taken care of.” I glance back at the door, which is closed and probably has security guards on the other side. “I really need to go. Can you take me back to Moorhurst?”
“We’re not done here. I have more to say. Do you have any questions about what I’ve said so far?”
I’m still trying to wrap my mind around what he said. I’m not prepared to start asking questions, but if he’s letting me ask I better come up with something.
“Does this organization have a name?”
“Yes, but only the members are privy to that information.”
“What does this secret group do?”
“I can’t tell you that,” he answers abruptly.
“You asked me if I had questions and now you won’t answer them?”
“I can’t answer those particular questions. But I can tell you that the organization I belong to had plans for Royce. Big plans. And now they’re scrambling to correct the problem that interfered with those plans.”
As cryptic as his words are, they’re starting to make sense in my head. Big plans. Royce was trying to win the nomination for president. I would say running for president of the United States is a big plan.
“This group you belong to is involved in politics.” As I say it I watch his face closely for any kind of response.
“I’m not going to deny that. But many powerful organizations have political involvement. Not just this one.”
“I know, but your son was running for president. And he came out of nowhere and was suddenly the frontrunner. It’s almost like he was hand-picked and this group was somehow going to make sure he won.” I realize how ridiculous this sounds but I almost believe it.
Arlin clears his throat. “What other questions do you have? Would you like to know about your half-sisters? Or your cousins? Or my wife?” He gets up and goes over to the bookcase. “Let me show you some pictures.”
It’s obvious from his reaction that my statement about that group wasn’t too far off. But it doesn’t make sense. How did this group plan to make sure Royce won the presidency?
“This is my wife, Grace.” Arlin hands me a framed photo. “Your grandmother.”
It’s weird to hear him say that. I’ve never had grandparents. The photo shows a nice-looking, older woman with short brown hair styled in a sleek and sophisticated bob. She’s standing next to Arlin on what appears to be a yacht. I look closer and see that she has green eyes that are the exact same color as mine.
“That was taken a couple years ago. We were sailing off the coast of Greece. I’d love to take you there sometime. The Mediterranean coast is truly magnificent.”
Is he out of his mind? He thinks we’ll be travel buddies now? I just met the guy. And his son tried to kill me!
I give him back the photo. “I still don’t understand what’s going on here. Just tell me what you want from me so I can leave.”
“As I said earlier, I want to do whatever I can to help you. Provide for your expenses. Pay for your college tuition.”
“My tuition is already paid for. And I don’t want your money. If you’re trying to get me to keep quiet about your son, don’t worry about it. I’ll never tell anyone. I already made that promise to Mr. Ken—” Shit! I almost mentioned Garret’s dad and I have no idea if this guy knows what really happened to his son. But he has to know. But who would have told him? I’m so confused.
“Were you going to say Mr. Kensington?” Arlin’s eyebrows raise. “Is that who you’re referring to?”
I keep quiet.
