The Last Seat Beside the Scarred Stranger — Part 4
The Last Seat Beside the Scarred Stranger — Part 4
Chantel couldn’t breathe.
The tunnel seemed to disappear around her.
All she could hear was the pounding of her own heart.
“My father…”
Her voice barely existed.
“You killed him?”
Lucian’s smile faded.
“I did.”
Develin stepped forward.
“Enough.”
Lucian looked at him.
“Still protecting her?”
“She’s not part of this.”
Lucian laughed.
“She’s the center of it.”
Chantel looked between them.
“What does that mean?”
Neither man answered.
Her frustration exploded.
“Stop talking about me like I’m not standing here!”
Develin turned toward her.
“Chantel—”
“No.”
She stepped away from him.
“I want the truth.”
Lucian smiled.
“Finally.”
Develin’s jaw tightened.
“Don’t listen to him.”
“Why not?”
“Because everything he says is designed to manipulate you.”
Lucian shook his head.
“That’s rich, coming from you.”
Chantel looked at Develin.
“What happened to my father?”
Develin was silent.
Lucian answered for him.
“Your father was named Gabriel Reyes.”
Chantel’s eyes widened.
She had never heard the name.
Not once.
Her mother had always refused to discuss him.
Whenever Chantel asked, her mother would simply say:
Some people are better left in the past.
“Who was he?”
Lucian’s expression became strangely nostalgic.
“Your father was the most honest man I ever knew.”
Develin’s eyes hardened.
“Don’t romanticize him.”
Lucian ignored him.
“He discovered something he wasn’t supposed to discover.”
“What?”
Lucian looked directly at Chantel.
“A ledger.”
The word hung in the air.
“A ledger containing names,” he continued. “Politicians. Police officers. Judges. Businessmen. People who controlled this city from behind closed doors.”
Chantel stared at him.
“My father found it?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t he go to the police?”
Lucian smiled sadly.
“Because half the police were in it.”
Chantel’s stomach twisted.
“Then what happened?”
Lucian glanced at Develin.
“Ask your protector.”
Chantel turned.
“Develin?”
He said nothing.
“Did you know my father?”
A long silence.
Then:
“Yes.”
Her face went pale.
“You knew him?”
“I worked for him.”
Lucian laughed.
“Worked for him?”
Develin’s expression remained cold.
“Before I worked for myself.”
Chantel stared at him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you didn’t need to know.”
“You don’t get to decide that!”
Lucian smiled.
“She’s finally seeing the real you.”
Develin ignored him.
“Your father saved my life.”
Chantel’s eyes widened.
“How?”
Develin looked away.
“I was nineteen.”
His voice became quieter.
“I was working security for a man who didn’t care whether his employees lived or died. Your father pulled me out when that operation went bad.”
He touched the scar on his neck.
“This is from that night.”
Chantel looked at the jagged scar.
For the first time, she understood.
The scar wasn’t just evidence of violence.
It was a memory.
“He saved you.”
“Yes.”
“And you owe him.”
“I owed him.”
Develin looked at her.
“Now I owe you.”
Lucian sighed.
“Touching.”
Then he raised his weapon.
“Unfortunately, we’re out of time.”
Several guns lifted behind him.
Develin immediately pulled Chantel behind him.
“Stay close.”
Lucian gave a small nod.
“Take them.”
The tunnel erupted.
Gunfire thundered through the darkness.
Develin pushed Chantel behind a concrete support pillar.
Bullets struck the wall.
Dust rained over them.
“Stay here!”
“You keep saying that!”
“Because you keep moving!”
He stepped out.
Three shots.
A man fell.
Develin moved again.
Another attacker fired.
Develin ducked.
The bullet struck the pipe above him.
Steam exploded into the tunnel.
Visibility disappeared.
Chantel coughed.
“Develin!”
No answer.
She looked through the cloud.
Shapes moved everywhere.
Men shouting.
Guns firing.
Then she saw Lucian.
He was walking toward her.
Calmly.
Slowly.
As if the chaos didn’t exist.
Chantel backed away.
Lucian stopped several feet from her.
“You have your mother’s eyes.”
“Stay away from me.”
He smiled.
“Do you know why your mother never told you about Gabriel?”
Chantel said nothing.
“Because she was afraid.”
“Of you?”
“Of what your father left behind.”
Lucian reached inside his coat.
Chantel flinched.
He pulled out a small photograph.
He held it toward her.
She stared.
It showed a young man.
Dark hair.
Warm eyes.
Standing beside a much younger version of her mother.
Chantel’s knees nearly gave out.
She had never seen her father.
But somehow, she knew.
That was him.
“Where did you get that?”
Lucian smiled.
“I was there.”
A gunshot cracked.
Lucian’s hand jerked.
The photograph fell.
Develin stood behind him.
“Step away from her.”
Lucian slowly turned.
Blood appeared on his shoulder.
His expression hardened.
“You always were stubborn.”
Develin raised his gun.
“Walk away.”
Lucian laughed.
“You know I can’t.”
He threw a smoke grenade.
White smoke exploded between them.
Chantel coughed violently.
Develin grabbed her hand.
“Move!”
They ran.
Behind them, Lucian’s men shouted.
Develin pulled Chantel through a narrow side passage.
They ran until the gunfire faded.
Finally, they emerged into an abandoned subway platform.
The station was completely dark.
Old advertisements peeled from the walls.
A broken station clock hung above the tracks.
Chantel bent over, gasping for breath.
Develin checked the tunnel behind them.
“Are we safe?”
“For now.”
She looked at him.
“Give me the photograph.”
He stared at her.
“Now.”
He reached into his pocket and handed it over.
Chantel stared at the image.
Her fingers trembled.
“My mother kept his name secret for twenty-six years.”
Develin said nothing.
“Why?”
“Maybe she was protecting you.”
“From Lucian?”
“From everyone.”
Chantel looked up.
“You said my father found a ledger.”
“Yes.”
“What happened to it?”
Develin’s expression changed.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
“Then why does Lucian want me?”
Develin hesitated.
“Because he believes your father hid something.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
Chantel stared at him.
“You don’t know anything.”
“I know enough.”
“No.”
She stepped closer.
“You knew my father. You knew Lucian. You knew why they wanted me. You knew my name before tonight.”
Develin’s face became unreadable.
“I learned your name tonight.”
“Then why did you recognize me?”
Silence.
Chantel froze.
“What?”
Develin didn’t answer.
“You recognized me when we first sat down.”
He looked away.
“Didn’t you?”
Still nothing.
“Develin.”
Finally, he spoke.
“I’ve seen you before.”
Her heart skipped.
“Where?”
“Three months ago.”
“Where?”
“Outside your restaurant.”
Chantel stared at him.
“You were watching me?”
“I was watching the restaurant.”
“Why?”
“Because Lucian’s people were watching it.”
She felt a chill.
“How long?”
Develin’s voice was quiet.
“Three months.”
Chantel took a step back.
“You’ve been watching me for three months?”
“Protecting you.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
Develin looked at her.
And for the first time since they’d met, his expression softened.
“Because your father asked me to.”
Chantel’s breath caught.
“What?”
Develin reached into the inside pocket of his jacket.
He pulled out a small, worn envelope.
The paper was yellowed with age.
On the front was a name.
DEVELIN MURPHY.
Chantel stared at it.
“Your father gave me this.”
“When?”
“Twenty-six years ago.”
“Why?”
Develin held the envelope out.
“He told me that if anything ever happened to him, I was to protect his daughter.”
Chantel stared at the envelope.
Her entire life suddenly felt like a lie.
“What’s inside?”
“I never opened it.”
“Why?”
“Because it wasn’t meant for me.”
She slowly took it.
Her fingers shook as she broke the seal.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
She unfolded it.
The handwriting was faded.
But the first sentence was perfectly clear.
If you’re reading this, Gabriel Reyes is dead.
Chantel covered her mouth.
She continued reading.
And if Develin has found you, then Lucian has found you too.
Her eyes moved lower.
Then she reached the final line.
Her blood ran cold.
Chantel, the truth about your birth is the one thing Lucian will kill the entire city to keep hidden.
She looked up at Develin.
“What does this mean?”
Before he could answer, the station lights suddenly flickered on.
A loudspeaker crackled overhead.
Then Lucian’s voice filled the abandoned station.
“Chantel.”
She froze.
“You should have asked your mother one question.”
The lights went out again.
Lucian’s voice whispered through the darkness.
“Why did she lie about who your father really was?”
A single gunshot echoed from somewhere in the station.
Develin grabbed Chantel and pulled her behind him.
Then another voice came through the loudspeaker.
A woman’s voice.
Old.
Familiar.
Her mother’s voice.
“Chantel…”
She began to cry.
“Please forgive me.”
And then the recording said something that made Develin’s face go completely white.
“Your father wasn’t Gabriel Reyes.”
A pause.
“He was Develin Murphy.”
