9.

Eugene's pov

I approached Monique, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of nervousness gnawing at the pit of my stomach. It had been years since I last saw her, and I wasn't sure how she would react to my sudden appearance.

Monique's eyes widened in surprise as she caught sight of me, her expression one of disbelief. For a moment, it seemed as though she didn't recognize me, until I spoke, and her face lit up with recognition.

"Eugene? Is that really you?" she exclaimed, her voice filled with astonishment.

I nodded, a sense of relief washing over me as she embraced me in a tight hug. "It's me, Monique," I confirmed, my voice low and urgent. "But please, keep your voice down. It's imperative that no one knows I'm here."

Monique pulled back, her brow furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean, Eugene? You're supposed to be dead so why are you here?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

I hesitated for a moment, knowing that I couldn't reveal too much without putting her in danger. "I'll explain everything later," I assured her, my tone serious. "But for now, I need you to trust me. Can you do that?"

Monique nodded, her gaze unwavering. "Of course, Eugene," she replied, her voice filled with determination. "You can count on me."

With that, I gave her a grateful nod before turning my attention to the funeral proceedings. As we made our way to pay our respects to Valerie, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the back of my mind.

I knew that Sanchez was here, somewhere in the crowd, and I couldn't afford to let him catch sight of me. Not when I was so close to achieving my goal, to finally bring justice to Thelma and Valerie, and to protect Chelsea and Claire from any further harm.

As we approached Valerie's casket, I said a silent prayer for her soul, hoping that she had found peace in death. And as Monique and I exchanged a solemn glance, I knew that the journey ahead would be fraught with danger and uncertainty. But no matter what obstacles lay in our path, I would do whatever it took to uncover the truth and bring those responsible to justice.

Claire approached me, her words sending a shiver down my spine, I knew the urgency of the situation. "12 o'clock," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the murmurs of the crowd. It was our code, a warning that Sanchez was nearby, and I needed to be cautious.

Before I could respond, Monique stepped in, pulling Claire into a tight embrace and diverting attention away from our conversation. "Eugene had such a great relationship with your mother's family," she said, her voice warm with affection. "He even has a house in Ocho Rios that he bought."

I nodded in agreement, grateful for Monique's quick thinking. "Yes, that's right," I chimed in, my tone casual. "It's been too long since I last visited, though. Perhaps it's time to pay a visit."

As Monique and Claire exchanged a knowing glance, I felt a sense of relief wash over me. Despite the danger lurking nearby, I knew that I could count on them to keep our secret safe.

With that, we continued to pay our respects to Valerie, our minds filled with thoughts of the future and the challenges that lay ahead. But no matter what obstacles we faced, I knew that we would face them together, united by our determination to seek justice and protect those we loved.

Claire's Pov

As I pulled away from monique's embrace, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the back of my mind. Despite the temporary distraction he provided, I knew that I had a much bigger problem to deal with: my father.

Eugene had been a protective figure in own life's since recently, guiding me and Chelsea with wisdom and care. But now, with our lives in danger, I knew that I had to rely on him more than ever.

With a heavy heart, I made my way back to where Chelsea was waiting for me, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. I sat down beside her, wrapping my arms around her in a comforting embrace.

"Hey, it's going to be okay," I reassured her, though the words felt hollow even to my own ears.

Chelsea buried her face in my shoulder, her sobs muffled against the fabric of my shirt. "I'm scared, Claire," she admitted, her voice trembling with fear.I tightened my grip on her, trying to offer whatever comfort I could. "I know, Chels. But we're not alone in this," I reminded her, my voice filled with determination. "We have each other, and we have daniel. He's going to help us get through this."

Chelsea pulled away slightly, her eyes filled with uncertainty. "Do you really think he can protect us?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Chelsea's Pov

As I turned to leave, hoping to put some distance between myself and Mr. Crewman, I couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort that lingered in the pit of my stomach. Despite his friendly demeanor, I still couldn't shake the suspicion that he was somehow involved with the FBI and that his intentions might not be as benign as they seemed.

But as I glanced back at him, I couldn't help but notice something different about him. His usually curly shoulder-length hair was now neatly trimmed, and although I hated to admit it, the change didn't sit well with me. I preferred his old hairstyle; it had given him an air of mystery that I found oddly intriguing.

Suppressing a sigh, I forced a fake smile onto my face as Mr. Crewman greeted me. "Miss Gonzalez, how are you?" he asked, his voice warm and friendly.

I mustered up all the politeness I could muster, trying to ignore the nagging voice of suspicion in the back of my mind. "I'm fine, Mr. Crewman," I replied, my tone polite but guarded.

But as my gaze flickered to his new haircut, I couldn't help but blurt out the question that had been nagging at me. "Did you get a new haircut?" I asked, the sarcasm dripping from my voice.

To my surprise, Mr. Crewman chuckled softly, his smile widening at my question. "Yes, I did," he confirmed, running a hand through his freshly cut hair. "Do you like it?"

I hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. The truth was, I didn't like it at all, but I couldn't bring myself to say so to his face. "Uh, yeah, it looks... decent," I lied, forcing myself to be diplomatic.

Mr. Crewman's smile faltered slightly at my lukewarm response, but he quickly recovered, nodding in acknowledgment. "Well, thank you, Chelsea," he said, his tone still friendly. "I'll see you around."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me feeling slightly guilty for my less-than-enthusiastic reaction. But as I continued on my way, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Mr. Crewman than met the eye, and I was determined to uncover the truth, no matter what it took.

I made my way through the crowd, a wave of relief washed over me when I spotted my friends, Ryan and Kim. To my surprise, they greeted me with warm smiles, and I couldn't help but return the gesture, though a part of me remained guarded.

"Chelsea! It's good to see you," Ryan exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine sincerity.

"Yeah, we've missed you," Kim added, her eyes softening as she looked at me.

I was taken aback by their sudden change in attitude towards me, especially after everything that had happened between us. "What changed your minds?" I couldn't help but ask, my curiosity getting the better of me.

Ryan scratched the back of his head awkwardly, a sheepish expression crossing his face. "Look, Chelsea, I'm sorry for snooping around your house and making up lies," he admitted, his tone sincere. "I realize now that I was wrong, and I want to make things right."

Kim nodded in agreement, her expression mirroring Ryan's remorse. "Yeah, we were out of pocket, and we're really sorry," she apologized, her voice tinged with regret.

I took a moment to process their words, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. Despite everything that had happened, I was grateful for their willingness to apologize and move forward.

"It's okay," I replied, offering them a small smile. "Apology accepted."With that, we exchanged a few more pleasantries before it was time to be seated for the funeral service.

As I took my place among the crowd, I couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the support of my friends, knowing that I wasn't alone in facing the challenges that lay ahead.

Sanchez's Pov

As the funeral came to an end, I offered my condolences to Valerie's family and ushered Claire and Chelsea into the car. As we drove to the burial site, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something wasn't quite right.

Turning to the girls, I decided to probe a bit, hoping to gather some information without raising suspicion. "So, who was that guy standing next to Mr. Crewman?" I asked casually, glancing at them through the rearview mirror.Chelsea shrugged, indicating that she didn't have a clue. But Claire chimed in with a nonchalant response. "Oh, probably just his boyfriend or something," she answered, her tone casual.

Her words sent a chill down my spine, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease creeping over me. Was Claire involved with someone else? And if so, could they be connected to Eugene or Mr. Crewman who Chelsea think is a FBI agent?

Despite my suspicions, I decided to play along for now, pretending to believe Claire's lies while keeping a close eye on her and Chelsea. If they were indeed involved in something dangerous, I needed to be prepared to act swiftly to protect my interests.

With a forced smile, I turned back to Chelsea, trying to divert attention away from my growing concerns. "Hey, Chels, guess what?" I exclaimed, my tone overly cheerful. "Next week, I'm taking the whole family and your friends to a fancy hotel for a little getaway."

Chelsea's eyes lit up at the prospect of a vacation, and I breathed a sigh of relief, glad to see her enthusiasm. But deep down, I knew that our peaceful facade wouldn't last for long. Eugene, Mr. Crewman, and Claire were plotting something, and I needed to be ready to strike back, even if it meant resorting to extreme measures.

As we arrived at the burial site, I pushed aside my worries for the time being, focusing on the task at hand. But in the back of my mind, I couldn't shake the feeling that danger lurked just around the corner, threatening to unravel everything I had worked so hard to achieve.

~~~~~~

I pulled up to Daniel's place after the burial, I turned to Claire and Chelsea, a somber expression on my face. "Girls, I need to tell you something," I began, my voice grave. "Next week is Jackson's funeral."

Claire's eyes widened in surprise, while Chelsea's expression remained impassive. "But we're not going," I continued, my tone firm. "Not after what he did to you, Chelsea."

Chelsea glanced down at her arms and foot, the remnants of Jackson's brutal attack still visible despite the healing process. With a resigned nod, she met my gaze, understanding the gravity of the situation.

"I understand, dad," she replied quietly, her voice tinged with sadness. "I don't want to go anywhere near him after what happened."

I reached out to squeeze her hand in a gesture of solidarity, silently vowing to protect her from any further harm. "Don't worry, Chelsea," I assured her, my tone reassuring. "I won't let anyone hurt you again."

As we stepped out of the car and headed inside, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief knowing that Chelsea was safe, at least for the time being. But as the days passed and tensions continued to rise, I knew that our troubles were far from over. We would need to stay vigilant, prepared to face whatever challenges lay ahead, together as a family.

Claire helped Chelsea inside, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. I knew I had to confront her before things escalated any further. With a sense of urgency, I called out to her just before she shut the front door.

"Claire," I called, my tone stern. She turned around, her expression guarded as she faced me.

"What do you want now?" she replied, her voice laced with attitude.I took a step closer, my gaze unwavering. "I know what you're up to, Claire," I warned, my voice low and threatening. "And mark my words, you won't get away with it."

Claire met my gaze head-on, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. "Is that a threat, Marquez?" she retorted, her tone defiant. "Because I'm not afraid of you."

With that, she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving me standing alone in the driveway, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. As she shut the front door behind her, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease wash over me.

Claire was becoming more like her mother with each passing day, and it unnerved me. Thelma had been a force to be reckoned with, and while I respected her strength, I hadn't always seen eye to eye with her.

But now, as I watched Claire disappear into the house, I couldn't help but wonder if history was repeating itself. And if it was, I feared that I might not be able to control the consequences.