The Portal ~ Large Print by Christopher Allan Poe

yanked his arm away.
    “It’s a lie.” He backed up. “None of this is real.”
    Vincent looked annoyed. “I don’t lie.”
    “Get the fuck out of my head,” Jarod said.
    “Maybe you need to see the rest of what happened that night.”
    Right then, the suspended water splashed down.
    “I’m dreaming.” Jarod turned just as his father bared his teeth and pushed down with both arms. “This is just a dream.”
    The struggle became frenzied, until the small arm over the side of the tub stopped moving. Suddenly, a hole exploded in his father’s forehead. Blood sprayed against the back wall.
    A gloved man walked in, holding a silenced gun. Only after a second, did Jarod realize who it was. His hair hadn’t grayed yet, and he was thirty years younger, but there was no mistaking those soulless blue eyes. Stromsky walked over and pulled Jarod’s limp body from the tub. His younger self coughed water, and began breathing.
    Stromsky then moved to the bathroom’s wall phone, picked it up, and dialed a number.
    “Charlotte, my dear,” he said in a pleasant voice. “It’s finished.” He paused. “Your son will be just fine with some rest. Maybe a spot of tea to warm him up. Shall I bring him over?”
    “You’ve been warned,” Mister Vincent said. “Do what you will.”
    And then Jarod was standing alone in his own bathroom. The porcelain sink was shattered, and several bullet holes had been punched in the tile. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be, but what if Vincent was telling the truth?
    “Sir,” a voice called out. Heavy footsteps clomped up the stairs. Leon ran into the doorway and felt all over Jarod’s body. “Are you hit?”
    Had his whole life been a lie? Had his mother murdered his father? She couldn’t have. Could she? If she had her own husband killed, Jarod wasn’t safe.
    “Sir,” Leon said louder. “Mr. Carmichael.”
    “My son,” Jarod said. “Get him. We’re leaving.”
    “Where to?”
    “Just get him. We’ll decide on the way.”



CHAPTER 19
    V ivian ducked behind the hedges that bordered the estate’s kitchen. At ground level, she found the basement window that she’d escaped from before. Grabbing onto a water faucet for support, she kicked the window twice and shattered it. The remaining glass shards broke off as she squeezed through feet first and dropped into the dank cellar. No alarm sounded. In fact, there was no movement anywhere.
    This was all wrong. When they’d escaped before, the security staff had nearly seen them several times. And Jarod had been caught off guard that night. This had to be a trap, but it didn’t matter. It only meant that she needed to be smart. Jarod had always underestimated her. Hopefully he’d do the same tonight.
    A sliver of moonlight shined on the rows of temperature-controlled wine racks. Navigating the dark maze by touch, she reached the staircase that led to the kitchen above. Something crunched behind her. She spun around but could barely see. There it was again, louder now. Back where she’d entered.
    “Mommy.” A whisper echoed through the dark cellar.
    She almost ran back but stopped. The voice had been so quiet that it could have been anyone. Or anything. But what if it was Cody? Jarod’s security guards wouldn’t lurk.
    “Where are you, baby?” she called out softly and took a step to the side. If it wasn’t him, she didn’t want them to know her position.
    “In the dark.” The hushed voice sounded more like Cody this time.
    Please let it be him . If it was, they were less than five minutes from safety. From here, they could even make it to the Mexican border before sunrise. She almost ran forward but caught herself. Hope was a dangerous emotion. In the past, it had led her to take risks. It had led her into Jarod’s arms. Never again. Tonight, she couldn’t slip up.
    “Step into the light so I can find you.” She moved back to the edge of the aisle, but she didn’t dare aim her gun.
    Peeking around the corner, she