Chapter 8

“I won’t be able to meet you in the next few days, Mr. Dalmonte. If you will, I can send someone I trust down to meet you for the job. If not, you will have to wait till at least next week.” I informed through the phone.

Mr. Dalmonte was a regular customer in the art scene and it was obvious that he admired my works. Albeit my works for him were always forgeries, he knew of my skills being almost similar to the original, and since unable to afford the price of stealing the actual original, he had resorted to having me make the forgeries for his displays at home.

“Are you really that busy, Elxa?” He asked, the hint of a frown starting in his voice. For a man like him dealing with a man my status, it was highly unlikely that he would be able to do anything to me even if he really wanted to, but I often liked keeping an amiable situation with my customers and contacts like. I didn’t like calling up my contacts at the different bureaus all over the world to erase certain information that would be rather unpleasant on me.

“My apologies, Mr. Dalmonte, but my days are honestly tied up.” I replied with as much sincerity as I could afford –but the fact remained that my voice was purely informative. It would seem offensive to some, but Mr. Dalmonte knew enough of my speech pattern to even be bothered with such minute offense.

“I have an apartment viewing in five days, Elxa. I really need this painting by then.” He explained the cause of his frustration, but there was nothing I could help him with.

“I am sorry, but I cannot do it in such a timeframe. But if you are willing, I will recommend you to one of the best around. I will guarantee you that his works are close to the caliber of mine, if not equal.”

Mr. Dalmonte took another long moment to sigh, then seemed to finally settle on the solution to his problem at hand. “Alright, I’ll settle for your contact.”

With thanks and instructions on how to contact Jeremy Stiles with the recommendation of mine, I hung up the call quickly after, setting the phone down on the study table, taking up my cane again. The house was quiet –which was now something strange to me –as I made my way to the room beside the study, right at the end of the corridor. Once a guest room, it was now Ms. Hurst’s room.

And a room for the patient inside.

She was still unconscious, and the last I knew, she was still burning up a fever. A normal blood disorder, paired with menstruation day for Ms. Hurst had turned into an exhausted body and mind, along with high fever. Barely waking up between days, Ms. Hurst had barely gotten any food or drink to stay healthy, but she seemed to enjoy her sleep way more so than normal.

Jon had gotten me to call the doctor again for a second check when she didn’t wake up a few days later, and upon checking again, he only confirmed that she needed more rest and pills to replenish the blood loss. It was pretty much the first time I ever saw Jon so worried over anyone. It was also the first time the crushing sense of responsibility weighed upon my heart.

Looking after Jon was a sense of duty hung upon me. Ms. Hurst was my responsibility.

She hadn’t stirred much since the last time I left her, but I took a seat by her bedside nevertheless. The doctor had given me a check on my leg the last time he came, and determined that it had only gotten worst. He had asked if I had put any large amount of pressure on my leg recently.

I told him frankly yes. It had been when I was carrying Ms. Hurst from the bathroom to the bed. It had been hurting doubly so ever since, but there was nothing I could have done to help it for I could never have left the woman on the stone cold floor –especially if she was having a fever. The doctor didn’t give any reaction at my explanation, but his eyes travelling to Jon told me he thought Jon would definitely have been a better candidate to do my work for me.

My personal phone rang again, and I picked it up quickly for fear of disturbing Ms. Hurst's recovery sleep.

"Elxa." I announced, wondering who it could be at this moment. There weren’t many people who had this number of mine, and those who had were considered closer to me than any normal acquaintance. Naturally, the number of people on this list didn’t make it past ten.

“Katherine Til isn’t my daughter.” Hayden said in a voice that sounded almost as if he were sulking through the phone. Though I knew he would eventually come to this conclusion, it had taken him quite some time to reach it. That itself was an indicator of how desperate Hayden was –for he could spend weeks trying to get to know Katherine Til, trying desperately to know everything that could possibly make her his daughter.

“Rachel Lilie isn’t likely either. Her father is a rich Casanova, Russell Maerton.” I reported, for my contact had only called in a few days ago. Though it was highly unlikely, Rachel was still a candidate, and therefore worth researching. I didn’t want Hayden to accuse me of treating my job lightly and missing out on the possible chance that Rachel was his.

There was sad, heavy silence for a long moment, then Hayden sighed –sounding exactly his age and older. In fact, he sounded almost older than his elder sister. It was a painful sign to everyone in the con world, especially those of us on The Circle who knew Hayden’s cheerful nature by heart. It was true. The myth of the con world was true. Hayden, Danaus and I were evidences of the myth.

The myth of the con world was that if a con had no personal life –nothing in his heart to live for –he would desert all emotions. And while he could be successful, he could never be happy, he could never express himself. He would forever live in an expressionless, unemotional world, forever trapped in black and gray.

“There is really no hope of me finding them back, is there? If you can’t find them, then I won’t be able to…” Hayden sighed again, and I could almost hear his heart break.

This was a man who had waited twenty-one years before dredging up his courage from the broken fragments of his heart, being cautiously hopeful. His mind had always told him better –that his daughter and lover was gone from him forever –but his heart had begun to hope uselessly. And even though he had expected the fact, it still crushed him.

“Be patient. I will find them.” I said softly, not wanting to disturb the patient beside me in her sleep.

“That’s what Hays tell me too.” Hayden replied sadly. ‘Hays’ was a nickname that people who knew Hayley Seyfried well called her. I wasn’t chummy enough to call her by that nickname, but Hayley had insisted that I address her as a friend. “But I’ve waited 21 years before finding them. Even if they wanted to be found, they’re probably gone.”

The despondence of Hayden paralleled very much to Jon’s past anger and hatred. Yes, Jon still hated me, but at least he wasn’t self-destructive. Now that Hayden was sinking down that slippery slope, who else was there to help him up? I doubted that Hayley could do much now, even if she jumped down the slope to save him.

Unfortunate as it was, I was the only one standing at the edge of the hole that Hayden was falling in, the only one able to extend my arm out to pull him back.

“If there is anyone you need to find, Hayden, I am the person you contact. But I give me time. Even if I have to go through a million girls –all of them in the States, even –I will. Just give a man time to do his work. If I am close to giving this up, then you can wallow in sorrow. But until then, wait.” I instructed evenly. If Hayden had approached me with this job, trusting my impartiality to deal with this situation, then he needed to wait for the results. Call me a determined man, but I am ready to do anything for something I wanted badly.

“I don’t know if I can…” Hayden ventured weakly.

“It isn’t a matter of can or can’t. You just do it and hope for the best.” I replied strictly. It had been the same things that Jed had told me when he taught me the rules of conning, and when I had refused to be a perceived bad, immoral man. In the end, what had happened? I eventually followed Jed and took his seat on The Circle –just because he had taught me to do so.

“But I-” Hayden began to complain –the childish side beginning to rise. In all honesty, I wondered why Hayden could still survive with his bout of childishness. Perhaps this was the reason why his sister refused to stop worrying about him, even after he grew up to be a successful conman on The Circle along with her, perfectly showing her of his capabilities of surviving on his own.

“Mr. Elxa?” A soft voice in reality took me from the serious conversation with Hayden, and it was apparent that the man at the other end of the conversation had heard me, for he kept quiet politely for me to engage in what pressing matters I had.

“Are you alright?” I turned quickly to find Ms. Hurst stirring awake, her eyes opening slowly and taking in her surroundings.

“How long have I been like this?” She asked, her voice still hoarse and weak as I leaned forward, covering a hand over the speaker of the phone so that Hayden wouldn’t hear too much of the current conversation.

“It has been almost a week. Six nights, if you must.” I informed, peering carefully into her bright blue eyes to make sure that there wasn’t anything I didn’t like there. Her eyes seemed the bright, refreshed version it usually was and I breathed a soft sigh of relief as her eyes wandered around the room once more.

“Six nights? Wow, this is a record…” She muttered, and I watched curiously as she tried to sit up. On reflex, faster than anything, I pushed her back down and pulled the covers back up over her.

“Stay. You are still weak.” I instructed as her eyes of surprise came to me at my firm movement. For a moment, she looked almost as if she were going to protest, but she refrained from doing so as she nodded in the end.

“Um… I believe you were on the phone when I woke up? Don’t want you losing out on a deal for my sake, do I? I wouldn’t know how to make up for your loss of pay.” She ventured for a soft joke, which meant that she was pretty much back to normal –save being a little physically weak.

After making sure that she was alright, and safely tucked underneath the covers, I picked up the phone again.

“I’ll call you again.” I spoke lowly to Hayden, feeling Ms. Hurst’s curious eyes on me.

“You dirty little bastard; I thought you were pure as a nun!” Hayden exploded in glee through the phone, and I refrained from sighing in annoyance.

“I have no business explaining myself to you. I will contact you again when I have more details about your task, Mr. Seyfried.” I remained strictly business, barely passing Ms. Hurst a look now. I couldn’t risk saying Hayden’s name to pique Ms. Hurst’s interest, and so ‘Mr. Seyfried’ would have to settle as such.

“Elxa, you lying son-of-a-bitch, you know I’m going to lose a bet to Jeremy? I bet that you were still a virgin! You seriously owe me a million!” Hayden seemed to begin to fume, and I casually unclenched the fist I didn’t realize had clenched.

“It was your decision to place a bet, Mr. Seyfried. It is your responsibility to pay for your misplacement in knowledge and instincts. I will not compensate a million dollars simply for your leisurely betting.” My reply was simply business-filled, but it didn’t deter Hayden, for the man somehow knew that I was making to pretend to be a strict businessman through the phone for eavesdropping ears –mainly Ms. Hurst’s.

“Oh, we’ll see. I’ll call you again some other time, Elxa.” Hayden promised, then cut off the connection. It would be a lie if I said I disconnected without a sigh, because I did.

Still, the matters at present were more pressing and important that Hayden’s minute betting. Besides, what was his business in betting against Jeremy concerning my virginity? I was yet unsure to be offended or neutral to the fact that Hayden had bet for my being still a virgin. Did I appear so holy and pure to him? Yes, while I had never entertained thoughts about having sex with any woman on the street, and while I had never encouraged such talks whenever I was with Hayden, had I truly made myself seem so ignorant to the anatomy of the opposite gender?

“Did the deal go badly, Mr. Elxa?” Ms. Hurst asked worriedly, and I snapped my eyes to her, almost unaware of my internal monologue.

“It is nothing to be concerned about. Just some lightly hearted betting from my friend that he lost.” I replied vaguely, reaching for the cane resting by my side. “If you’re feeling alright, I’ll go get you something light for a meal.”

“There’s no need, Mr. Elxa.” She rushed to say, and I turned around to see her already attempting to get out of bed. With hard eyes on her and an imperceptible expression, she took the silent order and tucked herself back under the covers with a sheepish expression. I was sure she would have blushed if she still had the blood left, but it remained a fact that she must have lost at least a pint.

“Just rest a little while longer. Call if you need any help. Jon’s out for the night.” I informed, and turned back towards the door, tapping my way out painfully slowly. The jolts of pain still ran up my leg with every step that I took, but the beginnings of my painkiller was starting to set in, as the pain more and more muted. With my mind focused more on the movements of my hands in the act of preparing a simple, bland bowl of porridge, I soon forgot the pain.

Upon stepping back in Ms. Hurst’s room, I found her already changed; her pillow fort already rearranged to be more welcoming of strangers. She still kept obediently under the covers, but it was obvious that she had changed out of her old six-day clothes. She offered a smile upon my re-entry to the room, and so I refrained from any lecturing, watching as she bustled to reach quickly for the bowl. The long sleep must have done her well, for she cleaned the porridge quickly, already beginning to get some color back on her face.

Her usual smile was back on by the time she gratefully returned the bowl, intelligent blue eyes tagging on me.

“I never knew you were such a cook, Mr. Elxa. Your porridge is just right. Not too bland, but just enough for a sick man. You know, if you weren’t such a good businessman, you could totally cook this kind of porridge for a living.” She commented casually, and I nodded in acknowledgment of her suggestion.

 If only she knew what exactly that I worked as. If I wasn’t in the profession that I was in now… then I wouldn’t know where I would ever end up. More than a profession, since I practically had no personal life, my job was my life. There was no life of Elxa’s without a con. But Ms. Hurst didn’t know about Elxa Dal, and so I spoke none of it.

“The doctor said you need a few weeks of rest to recover. I will give you paid leave for the next three weeks, Ms. Hurst.” I informed evenly, setting the bowl carefully on the bed side table while I sat in the chair that I had only recently vacated.

Almost immediately, the woman spluttered as if she had heard the most ridiculous thing.

“W-What? No, I can be working in a few days, Mr. Elxa. There’s no need for you to-”

“My word is final, Ms. Hurst. I am sure Jon will agree with the current choice of action. He has shown a certain amount of concern for your well-being.”

“Enough to go partying once I’m sick, I see.” She grumbled softly beneath her breath, but I shook my head. I had been shocked when Jon announced where he was going –more on instincts now rather than with the actual intention to update me.

“Quite the contrary, Ms. Hurst. Jon is off at the library researching on what he can do to help you in your current… iron-deficient situation. The doctor told us of your blood disorder, and while an internet search would have sufficed, Jon insisted that it wasn’t enough information and personally went down to the doctor’s clinic to find out what else he could do. You are getting through to him fine, Ms. Hurst, and should take a rest.” Upon my announcement, Ms. Hurst’s face turned pale again as extreme shock took her face.

“Jon can read?!?”

I hid an internal smile, blinking slowly. Jed and May had given Jon their amazing intellect, and while he didn’t show it, I knew him to be someone surprisingly smart. Not exactly the most street-smart (for it was something being a con was extremely good at being), Jon was intelligent by his own rights, except for the fact that he masked it all beneath heavy drinking and despondent partying.

“Jon has an IQ higher than average, Ms. Hurst. He was reading by 3, Fifth grade by 7. He finished the twelfth grade by 15, and stopped studying.” I informed. We didn’t need to further elaborate on what Jon went on to do after he stopped studying, for Ms. Hurst had gotten a firsthand experience when she was just employed.

“What?” She asked again, as if extremely shocked. It was easy to forget that Jon was naturally gifted, considering his streak of rebellion that made him seem like a delinquent who dropped out of school. Yes, while it wasn’t something I would profess publicly, I brimming like a proud father when I watched was Jon made his valedictorian speech at a young age of 15, seemingly sorely undersized in his graduation gown.

Of course Jon never knew that I was there –for he wouldn’t have attended his own graduation ceremony if he knew I was planning to turn up. Still, four years ago, I had stood far back in the crowd, watching with pride as he walked up the steps to receive his stellar results. It had been the only moment in fifteen years that I ever felt that I had done Jed and May justice –to put and force Jon through the education system, and allowed him to shine.

“What about you, Mr. Elxa? Surely Jon gets his higher intellect from his family?” Ms. Hurst asked curiously, as if totally forgetting her previous week of weakness.

“I…” I hesitated for a moment. Jon was the only member of the family who had gone through the actual education system, for Jed and May, while they were still alive, had insisted that their son be educated right. To them, I was the student they wanted to put on the con world, Jon as the son who would be successful in his own –legal –way.

Still, there was no way I could tell Ms. Hurst that I grew up learning to lie and cheat my way out of situations. My knowledge was everything that Jed and May taught, and what I took upon myself to research about. No, I was never interested in how America was founded and independent from British influence. Instead, my interest had, since young, been in the history of the Italians, and the artists borne from the amazing country of vivid culture.

“I was homeschooled.” I replied quickly before Ms. Hurst recognized my hesitation that was about to drag on for too long.

“Oh, that’s cool.” Ms. Hurst replied with her usual smile. “I was a pretty bad student. My mom always got called to school to talk to my teachers about my bad grades. But eventually, when I got into high school, she sat me down and told me I needed to focus. It turned out that I wasn’t stupid, just really lazy and unmotivated.”

I could easily see how a young Ms. Hurst could have been. From the start, she had struck me the type who needed motivation to achieve anything at all. From the moment that I’d met her, she had been an unmotivated creature, ready to give up on her useless struggle at holding on to her meagre life. After giving her a direction in life –in the terms of overcoming Jon’s pricks –she had outdone herself, and all expectations that I would ever have of her.

“What am I doing?” Ms. Hurst asked suddenly, then made a shooing motion towards me. “You are a busy man, Mr. Elxa. You shouldn’t be sitting here sharing chit-chat with me. Go; I’ll be fine. You go close your deals and do your work. If you aren’t working, I’m not going to get paid.”

I briefly considered telling Ms. Hurst even if I retired from my ‘business’, I had enough savings in my many banks to survive two lifetimes over in luxury. But this was not something to tell anyone casually, and I figured she needed some time alone, so I grabbed my cane and came slowly- painfully –back to my feet.

“Your leg still hurting, Mr. Elxa?” Ms. Hurst’s concerned question surprised me –considering she had been the one insisting to stop our ‘chit-chat’.

“It got worse recently.” I admitted, but conveniently left out the fact that it was because of her that it hurt more. “But it’s alright with painkillers.”

“Take care of yourself, Mr. Elxa.” She bade, and I closed the door quickly behind me. Still, I didn’t walk away from the closed door as I stood in the doorway.

I had the options of making everything better with a phone call. All I needed to do was to call Hayden at the moment and tell him that I knew who his daughter was, and where she was. All I needed was to tell him that Kaylen Hurst was in my apartment, taking care of me while I took care of the breaking heart of her father’s. She had never talked much about her father –but which daughter in the world would hate to see the father she never knew?

No matter how much distaste a son could have for a father, there was still a certain amount of longing kept beneath all smoldering ashes. It ran down right in the blood, to love a family member secretly no matter how much anger and hatred they still bore for each other for anything that happened in the past.

Kaylen had helped me; had made Jon a better man. Kaylen had taken over May’s position in Jon’s life that I had never achieved. Even better, Kaylen was Jon’s best friend, his sister. The elder sibling position that I had never fulfilled.

She was making things better for me, and it was only by obligation that I replied it by making things better for her, was it not? If I picked up the phone and made the call now, both Kaylen and Hayden would be fulfilled.

But a man has his flaws, and mine was painfully obvious, as I stood facing the closed door. The frosted glass of the door stared back at me, as if laughing at me for something I couldn’t see at all. I couldn’t see the nobility of a man who could give up something he thought precious in his life.

I –for the life of me –could not bear to give up Kaylen to her father.

Because, I had come to realize, I needed her.

Not only to fill Jon’s heart.

But mine too.