DECKER

Several things happened in a matter of minutes once Decker was back in his hotel room, mind numb from encountering his father.

The reality that his father could still touch his sanity, his mental capacities at all left Decker itching to burn everything to the ground. To erase himself. To peel off his own skin, step out of himself and blur into the world as a shadow, an idea, to exist enough to put himself back together as something new.

Someone who didn't let a father— no a man who has worn that title without putting in the effort— chose how he felt.

Decker didn't remember getting back to his room, the world a tapestry of blurred colors. And when he finally came back to himself enough to feel his body sink down on the edge of the bed, a dozen a missed call from Bex, he discovered for the second time in two months, that his hotel room had been broken into... again.

He didn't have the energy to even scrounge up a feeling of irritation at himself for missing it when he first arrived. He felt like he had lost his touch. His ability to see the obvious.

Of course my father hired me... he wants me in his pocket.

A dozen roses sat on the windowsill inside a vase, a small note nestled inside. The window was wide open, curtains flapping wildly.

He stared at the bright red petals— the exact shade of Harrow's— the Heist King's lips— as his fingers dialed the front desk phone number.

"I'd like to talk to the person who left flowers in my room." No hello. Decker didn't have it in him for greetings.

"Hello Mr. Waylon," a woman replied, using the alias that Decker had given her. "Let me check your files..." the woman at the front desk said, fingers clacking on a loud keyboard." "Oh... no one has been in your room. Not even the maid service sir. Has someone broken into your room?"

Decker continued to stare at the roses, mind distracted, half on lips and half on family that should have stayed gone. "Everything is fine. My mistake."

He had just hung up when Bex called again. "Bex."

"I have footage. Of the woman who was killed."

Decker didn't immediately respond. Instead he sat back on the bed, ignoring the note that would bait him to keep chasing, and took a long moment before responding to Bex.

I can't do this...

Decker thought of his mother. Of her living in a run down place, alone. Putting on a brave face every time she forgot a piece of her life. She had so little.

Because of him...

"Hello... earth to Decker. This is good news! Where's your head at?"

"I... I'm coming home."

"You found a clue? Great. Send me the info."

"I'm dropping the case."

"What?!?"

"My... dad," the word was poison even in its efficiency in explaining. "He's the client."

The silence on the other end of the phone was loaded, then seemed to explode all at once. "He's alive?!?"

"Yes."

"You said he was dead!" Bex shouted, voice all rage and confusion.

"I said that, yes. Technically I meant—"

"You should have clarified that he was DEAD TO YOU! I would have checked him to see if he was the owner! Instead I've been in the dark!"

"Now we know." Decker's voice was calm. So calm that Bex felt the need to grow more angry to clarify that Decker's behavior was far from acceptable.

"Yes! And now you want to quit! Something we could have avoided months ago if you'd been honest with me. Your job is to give ME intel. To dig up secrets, not bury them!"

Decker closed his eyes, images of Delle's handprint across his cheek after his secrets had destroyed any chance he had with her, brimming to the surface. That night in the hospital played over and over like a nightmare before he managed to shove the memory away. "Old habits die hard."

"Tell me what else I don't know. Anything and everything. You don't have to walk away. Let me help you fix it."

"I won't be owned by him Bex."

"Just tell me. What did he do?"

And to both of their surprises, Decker did. He told Bex about his father leaving him and his mother, leaving them bankrupt, in dept and homeless. Staying with relatives, his mother fighting child protective services to keep him.

"He vanished. I stopped hoping he'd come back. And now he's alive and well off after spending my childhood gambling our lives away."

Decker moved to his suitcase, beginning to pack, phone now on speaker mode. "I refuse to let him think he knows me. Or to think he has any right to be in my life."

Bex was quiet. Thoughtful for a long moment. She hadn't said a word about any of it. Just listened while Decker shared a deeply private part of his past. Things no one else had known.

"Decker. You should do the job and just take the money. It's money he owes your mom anyway. It only has the power to mean what you let it mean. Let it be used for good."

Decker zipped up his suitcase, moving for the door to his hotel. "I can't Bex."

"Baloney! If you quit, you are letting him have power over your choices! The Decker I know wouldn't walk away! He would have asked me what I found! He would have flipped off his dad, read him like a book, told him some terrible thing he saw about him by the way his tie was knotted, taken the money and gotten the job done!"

"I'll talk to you in California," Decker said before hanging up. His hand moved for the doorknob before he paused, turning back toward the window, the rose petals like a dozen kisses along his jaw.

Damn it.

The note was small, a confusing riddle printed on a crisp card. The smell of perfume wafted off the card, both tantalizing and irritating.

Follow the money. Follow the license. Follow the plane ticket and you'll get your prizes.

— HK

Decker spotted something rolled up inside the bottom of the vase. A plane ticket.

He already had a plane ticket. To a different place with a different ending attached. One where his father disappeared once he realized Decker couldn't be bought. One where Decker visited his mother the very next day and forgot all about his childhood.

The one in his hand threatened a different story. One with a better life for his mother, bought with what should have been hers to begin with. One where the mystery of this elusive woman was solved.

But at what cost? What will I have to do to earn each wad of cash?

Decker walked back toward the door, still undecided about what story would be his, and what plane he would be getting on.

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Thank you for reading chapter twelve! I hope you are enjoying the story! Or are at least curious to see where it goes! Add this story to your reading list to know when the next chapter drops!

UPDATE DAYS - A NEW CHAPTER EVERY FRIDAY!

What plane will Decker get on? Will he go home, or follow the Heist King?

What did Bex find?

What will happen next?

CHAPTER QUESTION - If you could have a lot of money to use for something good, but it came from someone bad, would you take it?