4: The Stranger at the Grave

 Chapter Four:

The Stranger at the Grave

—

[Afternoon]

The man in the suit began walking towards Samson, prompting Samson to instinctively rise from the ground.

What truly shocked Samson—having never seen this man before—was when the stranger stopped in front of the grave. With a gentle gesture, he placed the bouquet of flowers he was holding on top of the grave and gave a slight bow, softly murmuring "Miss Riley" before turning to face Samson.

A blend of confusion and curiosity filled Samson's eyes as he studied the stranger.

The man, noticing Samson's confusion about his identity, extended his hand for a handshake. "Mr. Riley, my name is Christian McCoy. I work for your father."

Christian had been sent by Samson's father not only to find him but also to place flowers on his ex-wife's grave. It was sheer coincidence that Christian visited the grave at the right moment.

The mention of his father struck Samson like a bolt of lightning; it was the last thing he expected anyone to say. Throughout his life, he had sought answers about his father from his mother, only to be met with evasion or silence. The pain hidden behind her avoidance had fueled a deep-seated resentment towards the man he had never known.

"Wait, my father?" Samson's voice quivered in surprise. The revelation seemed surreal, as no one, not even his mother, had ever mentioned his father before.

"Yes, Mr. Riley," Christian continued. "I know you'll have a lot of questions…" he said, noticing Samson's bewilderment. "But there's a matter we need to discuss. Is there somewhere we can talk?" His tone carried the weight of the news he bore.

Despite his lingering resentment, curiosity tugged at Samson. The silence surrounding his father had always intrigued him, and now the opportunity to learn more beckoned. "I was just about to head back home," he replied tentatively.

"That's perfect. I came in a car; I can drive us there," Christian offered, gesturing towards the car park.

Seeing Christian's gestured, Samson started to walk in the direction of the car park, leading the way.

As they walked to the car park  in silence, Samson's mind racing with thoughts. Who was this stranger? What did he want to discuss about his father? Would he finally get the answers he had always sought but never received?

Samson noticed that Christian was moving with a sense of purpose behind him, scanning their surroundings as if he were his bodyguard. 

When they reached the car, Christian quickened his pace to open the passenger door for Samson. 

Samson was taken aback; he felt as if he were being treated like royalty. With the distinctive sound of a car starting they made their way out of the car park.

A few minutes later, they were on their way to Samson's apartment. During the drive, Christian could sense the whirlwind of questions racing through Samson's mind.

"Your father kept tabs on you and your mother," Christian said gently.

Samson was shocked but felt anger bubbling up inside. "It's been two years since her passing. Where was he?" Samson retorted sharply.

"I know. He was deeply upset to learn of your mother's passing and wished he could have been there," Christian paused briefly. "But he was occupied at the time. He simply didn't have the chance."

"What about before?" Samson probed.

"There were circumstances that kept him away," Christian replied carefully. "It's not my place to divulge the details, but I'm sure he will share more when you're ready."

The car went silent for a moment. "I know this is a bit abrupt, but everything will become clearer soon," Christian added.

—

[Evening]

When they finally arrived at Samson's apartment, Samson gestured for Christian to follow him inside. As Christian entered, he quickly assessed the space and noticed how rundown it was. It was clear to him that Samson had faced some tough times. Samson noticed Christian's reaction but chose to remain silent about it.

"Would you like a drink? I don't have much," Samson offered, attempting to break the tension.

"No, it's alright," Christian declined, shaking his head.

Samson gestured towards a small table with two chairs. "Have a seat."

Christian pulled out a chair, thanking Samson. Sitting opposite each other, the unspoken words between them hung heavy in the air.

After a moment of silence, Samson finally spoke up. "So, what's this about?" His voice remained steady, though a whirlwind of emotions churned within him—anger, confusion, and a glimmer of curiosity.

Christian exhaled slowly, gathering his thoughts. "I understand this is unexpected, and I can only imagine how you must feel. But there's something important you need to know—your life may be in danger."

The news hit Samson like a bombshell, sending his heart racing. "Wait," he interjected, his brow furrowed in disbelief. "You're telling me my life is in danger?"

"Yes," Christian confirmed.

Samson shook his head incredulously, struggling to process what he'd just heard. Confusion and skepticism clouded his expression. "Why would my life be in danger?" he questioned, frustration evident in his voice.

Raising a hand to calm him, Christian explained, "I can't disclose all the details, but your father believes you may be targeted. He wants to ensure your safety."

"Am I safe?" Samson asked, his voice tinged with concern.

"For now," Christian replied.

Samson leaned back defensively. "Forgive me if I find this hard to believe. My father abandoned us, and now he suddenly cares about my safety?" he remarked, skepticism coloring his words.

"I understand your skepticism," Christian said, his tone gentle yet firm. "Your father is burdened by guilt over his past actions. He wants to make amends, should you choose to listen. But your safety is his main priority."

The weight of Christian's words lingered, stirring a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within Samson.

"It's your choice, but those targeting you are people you don't want to encounter," Christian cautioned.

"Who's targeting me?" Samson pressed, seeking clarity.

"I can't reveal all the details," Christian said, careful not to disclose too much. "But your father has made some enemies, and their pursuit of him may put you in danger."

Christian hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "Your father has been involved in some complex and dangerous affairs. Over the years, he's crossed paths with people who wouldn't hesitate to use any means to get what they want. Unfortunately, this includes using family as leverage."

Samson listened intently, his mind racing to piece together the fragmented information. "So, you're saying these people could come after me to get to him?"

"Exactly," Christian replied. "Your father is trying to resolve the situation, but until then, he wants to make sure you're protected."

Samson sighed, the whirlwind of emotions still churning within him. "And what am I supposed to do now? Just wait for these threats to disappear?"

"For now, it's important to stay alert and careful," Christian advised. "Your father is working on a solution, and I'm here to bring you to him. Your safety is his top priority, and I'm dedicated to making sure of that."

"We should leave soon," Christian urged.

"Can I grab a few things before we go?" Samson asked.

"Of course, but keep it quick," Christian agreed.

Samson hurriedly packed essentials into a backpack, his mind buzzing with questions.

As Samson made his way back to Christian, who was standing by the front door, he noticed Christian was on the phone. 

"Yes, Sir, we will be leaving shortly," Christian said before putting his phone back into the inside pocket of his suit, right over his heart.

Samson saw this and thought it was probably his father Christian was talking to. Christian turned and looked at him. "Ready?" he asked.

Samson glanced into space, contemplating whether he had everything he needed. "I'm ready," he replied.

"Okay, let's go," Christian said, turning to open the front door. Samson was behind him.

But just as Christian was about to pull the door open, he suddenly stopped. "Wait," he whispered, placing a hand on Samson's chest while he moved his ear slightly closer to the door.