Page 20

“Don’t you dare forget, my dad was on my list and I murdered him. I murdered My Dad, and I don’t regret it one bit. In fact I wish he could come back to life just so I can kill him again and again and again. If I can kill my dad, then who is he?” I continued with my chest rising and falling. He was lucky we were in public, I was not expressing my anger the way I wanted to.
Chan sighed and said, “Jordy…”
“Don’t Call Me That.” I shouted, hitting my fist on our table.
He checked around the shop to see the customers staring at us before turning back to glare at me, but I ignored him and stood up in anger. I picked up the envelope, holding it tightly in my hands and I downed my –now cold– cappuccino in three gulps.
“Don’t call me, I’ll call you,” I said and he squinted his eyes at me.
“I won’t pick up,” he whined, crossing his arms to his chest and turning his face away from me.
I scoffed and threw one last insult at him,“fine then, stupid asshole.” I stomped out as I heard him talking behind me.
“I hate you bitch, I’m going back to France and you’ll never see me again.”
I twisted my mouth in a smile and shook my head. What a great way to part from your best friend.
Ah ah, definitely not my best friend.
* * *
I counted the time since I entered my room. From the seconds to the minutes to the hours, and I’d come to the conclusion that it was now or never. This was what I was destined for, or at least this was what they made me feel.
Jayden.
Maybe Chan was right that I was not ready to meet him. Not ready to look at his picture, not ready to get close to him. I didn’t know how I’d react to him after all these years. It’d been ten years since I’d seen him, ten years since I’d touched him and ten years since I’d felt anything other than hatred and anger toward him.
‘He’s just a victim like you.’ Chan’s words replayed over and over again, since I entered my room. He was just a victim like me, but that didn’t make us the same, that didn’t make our pain the same, neither did it make our struggles and nightmares the same.
We were different, every single thing was different about us, and that was what I told myself as I opened the envelope.
I poured the contents of the envelope on my bed and frowned when I found seven medium-sized envelopes in the big one with names on each of them.
CEDRIC ANTONIO (Father)
TROY ANTONIO (First son)
RICK ANTONIO (Second son
SAM ANTONIO (Third son)
DANIEL ANTONIO (Fourth son)
RAPHAEL ANTONIO (Fifth son)
JAYDEN ANTONIO (Sixth son)
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding in and laughed to myself. Why should I be the one scared? They should be scared because they didn’t know what was coming for them. They didn’t know how hard I’d trained for the past seven years.
They should be the one holding their breaths and not me.
But then again, I’d advise them not to hold it for too long since they’d be letting go of it soon anyway.
Taking out the ten pictures in the envelope labeled ‘Cedric,’ I grimaced as I set my eyes on the perverted man. In one picture, he had his legs crossed with a cigarette between his teeth and a cringy smirk on his face. In another, he was at a bar with a girl sitting between his legs while he gambled. In another, he was captured with a girl walking hand in hand with him. I guessed he was still obsessed with young girls.
I emptied the other envelopes on the bed watching and wincing at different pictures of the men I’d murder.
I saw Rick being photographed while trying to close the door for his pregnant wife after she got out of the car.