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I’m really glad I watched so many spy movies, because I at least sound like I know what I’m doing even though I’m a mess inside.
I hide the gun when we reach the gate, and they wave us through. Apparently Aidan was in such a rush he didn’t bother to tell anybody but the guys in the main house to keep me inside. He didn’t think I’d get past the front door.
I wonder if all of this is pointless. Is there any hope that I’ll get there in time? How much time have I already lost? I doubt Aidan is driving above the speed limit. If we go fast enough, I could beat him there. I try not to think about what I’ll actually do. Reason with Aidan some more? What’s that going to do?
Can I actually shoot him to stop him? I want to hate him right now, but before this chain of events I was starting to feel something quite different. Can I actually kill this man? And then what happens? I’ll surely go to prison, right?
What if I turned the gun on myself? It’s cruel given what I know about his mother, but maybe it would drive the point home, maybe if my life were literally on the line, he’d understand the gravity of his decision and reconsider.
Does any of this even matter? It wasn’t as though I had any time to plan this out.
“Um, Mrs. Stryker, I need to make a turn, and I don’t know where I’m going.”
“Turn left,” I say. “And drive faster.”
“I’ll get pulled over.”
“Not on this road, you won’t. There are never any cops here.”
He doesn’t argue with me and accelerates to a speed that seems like we’re actually trying to save a life here.
Aidan took the black Mercedes SUV he drove me home in that first night after the attack in the alley, and it’s parked in front of my house when we get there.
“So help me god, Luca, if you follow me or try to warn Aidan in any way, you’re a dead man.”
He nods. “Understood, Mrs. Stryker.”
“Good.” If it weren’t for the threat to my father’s life, I could take the time to enjoy what it feels like to be Queen.
I step outside and press my hand against the hood of Aidan’s car. It’s still warm. He hasn’t been here long. I hope I’m in time.
The front door is unlocked. My mom drifts in like a ghost from the drawing room. The house looks so strange. Aidan may have bought it to let my parents stay, but it still has almost no furniture, and it looks so bare without the endless roses that were filling it the last time I was here. A few vases remain, but they are all wilting and dying.
She’s wearing the lavender dressing gown. It’s ripped in several places, like an animal got hold of her. One of the sleeves dangles off her shoulder. A bruise is forming around her eye.
I see red. “Did Aidan…?” How the fuck could he? When all this violence is supposedly for his own mother, why would he turn around and hurt mine? It looks like more than hitting. It looks like a more intimate violence has occurred here, but Aidan wouldn’t… would he? And how could he have had the time? I thought he was coming for my dad.
She shakes her head. “No, it wasn’t him.”
“Who did this?”
She looks away, tears in her eyes, and I feel like I’m seeing her now for the very first time. And I know the answer even without her telling me. I desperately don’t want to know the truth, but I do. I think somewhere very deep down, I always knew. I just couldn’t face it.
“It’s complicated,” she says.
No, it’s really very simple.
She’s been this way for years… slowly slipping into this half life, only I didn’t notice until it involved me. I wouldn’t let myself notice. My brain plays the reel of all the good memories with my father, and I just can’t let myself believe he did this. I can’t believe he’s that type of man.
But why not? He hurt Aidan’s mother, why wouldn’t he hurt mine? He gave me to a man he probably assumed would hurt me just like Aidan’s dad. So why would I ever doubt my lying eyes?
I hear a crash and race in the direction of the sound. I find Aidan and my father struggling in the practically empty game room. There’s a revolver on the floor several feet away, and they’re fighting over a knife, each of them trying to force the weapon into the other’s flesh.
I fire my gun into the wall. “Stop!”
They only stop briefly, look at me, then at each other, and then they go back to it. Each of them is determined to kill the other and both of them know I can’t bring myself to hurt either of them. Finally my dad somehow gains the upper hand, and has the knife pressed against Aidan’s throat.
I don’t think. I just fire the gun until I’m clicking against nothing. Four bullets straight into my father. I drop the weapon. My hands are shaking, and I collapse to the ground. I crawl over to him and flip him over. His eyes stare blankly up at the ceiling. Did he know I shot him? Or did he die before he realized?