BIA Ch. 23

“What do you mean?”

Isaiah looked at Bran with a puzzled expression.

“It’s my story. Why wouldn’t I need to know?”

“Because it would be better for you not to know when dealing with Chester.”

“Such nonsense…”

Isaiah muttered in bewilderment.

“Then consider it on hold. It’s just that you don’t need to know right now. You will find out on your own when the time comes.”

Bran seemed to have no intention of telling him anything. That was unsettling. More so than the fact that there was an inside story to the incident he didn’t know, it was Bran’s attitude of trying to hide it that bothered him.

Up until now, Bran had told him everything he knew. Information about Isaiah Cole that Chester had deliberately hidden, as well as knowledge about guns. He had always taught him kindly and in detail, never showing any signs of dislike. And that…

“I thought we were on the same side.”

Isaiah said, his voice trembling slightly without him realizing it.

“That’s why I believed you put up with the annoyance and told me everything, bit by bit.”

He was aware that he was acting like an abandoned child but he couldn’t help it. He felt that lost. He had only Bran. Bran was his sole recourse.

“But if it’s like this, I…”

“Isaiah.”

Bran straightened his arm, which had been draped over the armrest of the sofa. He placed both elbows on his knees and leaned forward. In that position, he turned his head, looked at Isaiah beside him, and said,

“I think you’re misunderstanding something. Telling you about the things you’re curious about is purely out of goodwill.”

Bran’s face, devoid of its usual smile, looked like a statue. It was so beautiful that its authenticity was questionable and equally heartless and inhumane. Perhaps he was aware of that fact himself, which was why he always smiled.

“Our agreement is very simple. I help you safely recover your memories and in return, you unconditionally follow my orders.”

His voice, too, had changed. With the elegant and gentle tone removed from his honey-thick, sweet whispers, only a low, deep, irresistible resonance remained.

“As long as you do what I tell you, you will be safe. So stop thinking about useless things and practice shooting. This is an order.”

As Bran had predicted, as soon as he disabled Do Not Disturb mode at six o’clock, he received a call from Chester.

“Do you want to die? Why weren’t you answering the phone?!”

To the furious Chester, Isaiah recited the lines he had prepared in advance.

“I had it set to Do Not Disturb. Sorry.”

After speaking, he wondered if his tone had been too insincere. Should he have sounded more apologetic? He supposed he wasn’t cut out for acting. As he was mentally berating himself, he unexpectedly heard Chester’s nervous voice on the other end of the phone.

“Hey, what are you… Did you, by any chance… get your memories back?”

Seeing that Chester was asking out of fear rather than suspicion, it seemed he had unintentionally perfectly replicated Isaiah Cole’s usual way of speaking.

“No, no way,”

Isaiah laughed, as if the idea were absurd.

“Well, if that were the case, there’s no way I would say I’m sorry.”

He clicked his tongue, saying it was good but contrary to his words, he clearly looked relieved. Perhaps I feel that way even more after hearing Bran’s story.

“Anyway, come here quickly. Come and talk.”

As expected, Chester asked Isaiah to come to his father’s house. When Chester hung up the phone, Isaiah sighed and sat up in bed. He put on a blazer jacket, the most presentable piece of outerwear he had brought from his apartment and went down to the second floor. He knocked on the study door and Samuel opened it as if he had been waiting. Isaiah, thinking he was being invited in, was about to enter when he ran into Bran, who was just coming out.

“Have you practiced a lot?”

Bran asked kindly as he watched Isaiah take a step back. He was wearing a black three-piece suit. Mourning clothes suited him incredibly well.

“Yes, enough to kill you, too.”

Want to see? Isaiah pulled a pistol from his back pocket. Samuel, quick as lightning, blocked Bran’s path and pulled a gun from his jacket pocket. With a click, the slide moved forward, and at the same time, Bran grabbed Samuel’s arm and twisted it back.

“Calm down.”

“Yes? What, what!”

Samuel, suddenly overpowered by his boss, cried out in surprise.

“I’m kidding. There are no bullets inside, anyway.”

Right? At Bran’s words, Isaiah nodded reflexively. He then handed his pistol to Samuel, who had just been released by Bran.

“I’m sorry. It was a joke.”

Samuel snatched Isaiah’s gun, checked that the magazine was empty and then muttered in an exhausted voice.

“No, why suddenly a gun…?”

“I still have to protect myself.”

Bran straightened his tie which had become slightly askew during the earlier commotion and started down the stairs. Without looking back, he pointed at Isaiah, still standing on the stairs.

“Just give me a ride to Adams Street. You can drop me off near the Lieberman Building.”

Samuel, following instructions, dropped Isaiah off precisely in front of the main entrance of the Lieberman Building. Isaiah had not spoken a word in the car. Bran had not spoken to Isaiah either. He only exchanged a few words with Samuel, in the driver’s seat, about work and finally spoke to Isaiah as he was getting out of the car.

“Remember what I said.”

Instead of replying, Isaiah slammed the backseat door. He hailed a taxi after Bran’s car was completely out of sight. He gave the driver Cedric’s address and after about twenty minutes, the taxi stopped in front of the grounds of a magnificent mansion with a sprawling garden.

“I guess I can’t go any further?”

The taxi driver said, looking at the gate at the entrance to the garden. As he said, it seemed only registered vehicles could pass through the main gate and enter the grounds.

“Isaiah.”

Just then, the gate opened and Manny came running. He handed his card to the taxi driver, paying the exact fare displayed on the meter. He did not give a tip. They were truly stingy, despite their wealth.

After the taxi left, Isaiah walked through the gate with Manny.

“Whose taste is this?”

Isaiah asked, looking at the colorful flowerbeds and various sunrooms scattered throughout the garden.

“Grace was really into English gardening for a while.”

“Who is Grace?”

“Chester’s mother.”

As Isaiah walked, thinking the mother and son might have similar tastes, he saw the stairs leading to the mansion’s entrance. More precisely, he saw Chester crouching on the stairs, smoking a cigarette.

“What the hell have you been doing? You didn’t answer your phone for two days!”

As soon as Chester saw Isaiah, he threw his cigarette away and ran over, yelling. Instead of answering, Isaiah pulled a gun from his back pocket. Chester and Manny both screamed and dropped to the ground.

“Calm down.”

Isaiah said, smiling. He hadn’t intended to frighten them but their terrified reactions to the gun were amusing. It made him think that this was why insignificant people acted as if they were somebody just by holding a gun.

“What is that? Where did you get it?”

Chester, still wary, peeked out from behind Manny.

“This? It was under my pillow.”

“Under your pillow?”

“Yes. So, I kept practicing while watching videos. Practicing shooting.”

At Isaiah’s words, Chester and Manny both exclaimed, “Oh!” simultaneously.

“So, while doing that, did you remember anything?”

Manny asked, his face full of anticipation. Isaiah scratched between his eyebrows with the barrel of the gun and muttered. “Well, not really.”

“I don’t remember anything in particular… but I guess I have a knack for it. At first, I was scared to even touch a gun but I got pretty good at it.”

“Hmm, really?”

While Manny seemed inwardly disappointed, Chester exclaimed excitedly.

“Exactly, that’s what I’m saying! I told you, things like this are all instinctual!”

He hadn’t expected them to be so unquestioning. Chester was simply overjoyed. Of course, there was a reason for Chester’s blind enthusiasm.

“It was the same with Jason Bourne. The guy couldn’t even remember his own name but he could shoot like a pro.”

This was because the only amnesiac he knew was the protagonist of the movie, The Bourne Identity.