Page 80 of An Unending Claim

“I don’t have a camera in here, Peyton,” he growled.

I leaned up and whispered, “Leave the door cracked. You can come rushing in like my knight in shining armor if need be. Also, this way, I won’t have to tell you everything afterward.”

He thought it over for a moment, then nodded and stepped outside, shutting the door until it looked closed.

I pivoted around and walked forward until I spotted the table and the woman chained to it.

CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT

PEYTON

Ametal collar circled Lisa’s neck. There were cuffs on each wrist and both ankles with a band of steel around her torso. They’d put steel-tipped gloves on her so she couldn’t use her claws.

One of her eyes was swollen, telling me they’d likely broken her eye socket since it hadn’t healed already, and both were bloodshot. Blood crusted around her lips and nose, which sat just a tad crooked from not being set after they broke it. There were also several gashes on her skin that were still healing. I spotted a tooth on the ground by her feet, more dried blood—a lot of it—and what looked like vomit. The smell turned my stomach because my nose was so sensitive from being pregnant, so I breathed through my mouth as I approached the table and sat in the empty chair across from her.

My panther was going batshit crazy inside me, demanding to be let loose so she could rip the traitor’s throat out. I struggled to contain her, but eventually she backed off, as if she understood that I needed something from Lisa, although she continued to growl and gnash her teeth.

“Lisa,” I greeted her solemnly.

She watched me warily and didn’t say anything.

“I spoke with James Liederman today,” I said. She tried to remain stoic, but her pupils dilated and her nostrils flared. “It seems he’s been working on his family history. He had vague memories of a cousin and her daughter who moved to northern Washington when the girl was around five. But mother and daughter died in a car accident shortly before the girl turned eighteen and they are buried in a cemetery four hours from his house.” I’d brought a file with me and I took out the photos of the headstones, setting them on the table.

Still, Lisa remained silent. My cat hissed, but I kept it from slipping out of my lips. Barely.

“The funny thing is that he swears he saw that same girl years later, only as an adult.” This time, I took out the grainy photo of the woman in front of me. She glanced at it and her mouth tightened. “He added both women to his family tree a long time ago, but today, pictures of those headstones were uploaded onto the ancestry site. There isn’t a paper trail for either woman. Strange, right? As if someone wanted to wipe away their existence. But James did remember that Kit”—Lisa winced—“was from upstate New York. He said they stopped to stay with him for a few days before traveling on to the town where they stayed with another distant cousin until they were killed in the car crash.”

Lisa bit her lip, then hissed when her sharp tooth tore through the skin in a spot that had likely been ripped open before and was still sensitive, though mostly healed.

“I wonder, if I had those graves exhumed, would they both have a body inside?”

“Yes,” she snapped suddenly.

“James also mentioned that his other cousin disappeared shortly after the accident. Is that who’s buried in your grave, Lisa? Or was it some random woman that you killed in order to fake your death? I have to say, the plastic surgery wasn’t bad, but I would have gone a little further. There is still a resemblance.”

Her face was devoid of emotion except for the slightest hardening of her jaw.

“Funny thing is, all three women have the same features in common. I’m guessing it’s because you couldn’t give up the small part of your mother that you carried with you. But you changed everything that reminded you of your father.”

“I don’t have a fucking father,” she spit.

“Huh, now that’s not what I heard. James mentioned that your father showed up looking for you, but you just happened to have died in a fiery car crash the week before he arrived in your town.”

“Genetics don’t make someone a father.”

“I agree. Nor do they make them a grandfather. Which is why I ‘died’ when I was thirteen,” I said, using air quotes.

Lisa was quiet for so long I thought maybe she wouldn’t come around as I’d hoped. Then she tilted her head and studied me before saying, “I got the idea from you, you know.”

“To fake your death?”

She nodded. “My mother was barely sixteen when Xavier raped her during a full moon. So when she ended up pregnant, you’d think he would have owned up to it. But no, he blamed her. He beat the shit out of her and she almost lost me, but a doctor in her pack managed to save the pregnancy. Somehow, she kept my existence from him until I was five, mostly because he ignored her unless he wanted a fuck he didn’t have to stare at in his pack every day. When he found out about me, he demanded I be part of his pack, but only me. She wouldn’t be allowed to see me again, so we went on the run. Ran as far as possible and stayed with a cousin we figured would never be connected to us.”

“And you found computers.”

Lisa nodded.

“Something we have in common.” I kept my tone light, trying to keep her comfortable and talking. I was stating the obvious, but it helped establish a better connection by pointing it out again.