Page 81
Story: The King of Hearts
“Why?”
“Because I wanted no association with my father’s name. My father chose the name Matteo, and he corrupted the name Romano.”
“You had an older brother, right? I believe Aiden was his name.”
“Yes. He died a long time ago.”
“What happened that night twenty years ago?”
I worry he’s not going to answer when he stays quiet for so long, but after a while, he talks.
“I was only seven years old, but the memories are crystal clear. Everything was normal as far as my young mind could tell. It wasn’t until I woke up in the middle of the night by voices coming from downstairs. My sitter was in the hallway when I left my room. She tried to make me go back into my room, but I was a skinny kid and slipped past her.”
He pauses and lifts his mother’s hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it before carefully setting it back down.
“I made it downstairs, and the place was filled with cops and other people I didn’t know. They didn’t see me at first, so I managed to get inside the living room without them knowing. I saw my mother lying on the floor, and the white nightgown she wore to bed was covered in blood. There was a lot more on the floor around her. She wasn’t moving, and I thought she was dead.”
My hand goes to my mouth, and I suck in a sharp breath. The pain of what Ryker, as a boy, must have felt hits me like a freight train. The terror of seeing his mother like that.
I remain quiet as he continues.
“I rushed to her and fell to my knees. It wasn’t until later that I found out the blood wasn’t hers, but my father’s.” He turns his head and looks out the same window his mother is staring out of. “I huddled over my mother’s body, crying. I begged and pleaded with her not to leave me. And I begged and pleaded for my father to come help. He never did.”
He turns quiet after that, and I wonder if he’s not going to say more, but then he does.
“The authorities took my mother to the hospital on the mainland. I was forced to stay behind with Mrs. Myers and Miss Landen. For days, they wouldn’t let me go see her, no matter how much I railed and demanded. About a week later, she came home.” He looks at his mother now. “She wasn’t like this, but she wasn’t the same either.”
“Who cared for you since your mother couldn’t?”
The muscle in his jaw tics. “My father’s sister came to live with us. Aunt Rosa was my only known living relative.”
“Why do I get the feeling having her around wasn’t pleasant?”
“Because it wasn’t. The bitch was a sexual predator who enjoyed brutalizing young children.”
My heart stutters to a stop, and a nasty, heavy weight settles in my stomach. Sympathy for the child version of Ryker has tears threatening to gather in my eyes. I want to ask more questions, but going by the hard set of his jaw, I don’t think he’s going to give me the answers I seek. Maybe he’ll be ready to talk about it at another time.
“The rumor is your father was never found,” I say instead.
He nods. “He wasn’t. They claim there was too much blood for him to have survived whatever happened to him, but I know he’s out there.” His jaw clenches when he says the last.
“How do you know?”
Before he can answer, the clinking sound of glass comes from the doorway, and an elderly woman with salt and pepper hair walks into the room carrying a big tray. She’s so small and the tray is so big, I don’t see how she manages to carry it by herself. But she does it without any issues or strain.
Ryker gets to his feet as she approaches and takes it from her, setting it down on the center of the table. I smile at the woman while she hovers behind Ryker as he removes the food and drinks from the tray.
“Hi,” I greet. “I’m Savina.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Savina. I’m Susie. If you need anything, please let me know.”
“Okay.”
The encounter lasts less than a minute before Ryker is handing the tray back to Susie, and she turns to leave the room.
“How many staff members do you have?” I ask, picking up the pot of tea and pouring a generous amount into the two coffee mugs.
“Wehave four.” He lifts the lid from one of the silver containers, and a delicious scent hits my nose. “My mother’snurse, a cook, a gardener who comes once a week, and a housekeeper.”
“Because I wanted no association with my father’s name. My father chose the name Matteo, and he corrupted the name Romano.”
“You had an older brother, right? I believe Aiden was his name.”
“Yes. He died a long time ago.”
“What happened that night twenty years ago?”
I worry he’s not going to answer when he stays quiet for so long, but after a while, he talks.
“I was only seven years old, but the memories are crystal clear. Everything was normal as far as my young mind could tell. It wasn’t until I woke up in the middle of the night by voices coming from downstairs. My sitter was in the hallway when I left my room. She tried to make me go back into my room, but I was a skinny kid and slipped past her.”
He pauses and lifts his mother’s hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it before carefully setting it back down.
“I made it downstairs, and the place was filled with cops and other people I didn’t know. They didn’t see me at first, so I managed to get inside the living room without them knowing. I saw my mother lying on the floor, and the white nightgown she wore to bed was covered in blood. There was a lot more on the floor around her. She wasn’t moving, and I thought she was dead.”
My hand goes to my mouth, and I suck in a sharp breath. The pain of what Ryker, as a boy, must have felt hits me like a freight train. The terror of seeing his mother like that.
I remain quiet as he continues.
“I rushed to her and fell to my knees. It wasn’t until later that I found out the blood wasn’t hers, but my father’s.” He turns his head and looks out the same window his mother is staring out of. “I huddled over my mother’s body, crying. I begged and pleaded with her not to leave me. And I begged and pleaded for my father to come help. He never did.”
He turns quiet after that, and I wonder if he’s not going to say more, but then he does.
“The authorities took my mother to the hospital on the mainland. I was forced to stay behind with Mrs. Myers and Miss Landen. For days, they wouldn’t let me go see her, no matter how much I railed and demanded. About a week later, she came home.” He looks at his mother now. “She wasn’t like this, but she wasn’t the same either.”
“Who cared for you since your mother couldn’t?”
The muscle in his jaw tics. “My father’s sister came to live with us. Aunt Rosa was my only known living relative.”
“Why do I get the feeling having her around wasn’t pleasant?”
“Because it wasn’t. The bitch was a sexual predator who enjoyed brutalizing young children.”
My heart stutters to a stop, and a nasty, heavy weight settles in my stomach. Sympathy for the child version of Ryker has tears threatening to gather in my eyes. I want to ask more questions, but going by the hard set of his jaw, I don’t think he’s going to give me the answers I seek. Maybe he’ll be ready to talk about it at another time.
“The rumor is your father was never found,” I say instead.
He nods. “He wasn’t. They claim there was too much blood for him to have survived whatever happened to him, but I know he’s out there.” His jaw clenches when he says the last.
“How do you know?”
Before he can answer, the clinking sound of glass comes from the doorway, and an elderly woman with salt and pepper hair walks into the room carrying a big tray. She’s so small and the tray is so big, I don’t see how she manages to carry it by herself. But she does it without any issues or strain.
Ryker gets to his feet as she approaches and takes it from her, setting it down on the center of the table. I smile at the woman while she hovers behind Ryker as he removes the food and drinks from the tray.
“Hi,” I greet. “I’m Savina.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Savina. I’m Susie. If you need anything, please let me know.”
“Okay.”
The encounter lasts less than a minute before Ryker is handing the tray back to Susie, and she turns to leave the room.
“How many staff members do you have?” I ask, picking up the pot of tea and pouring a generous amount into the two coffee mugs.
“Wehave four.” He lifts the lid from one of the silver containers, and a delicious scent hits my nose. “My mother’snurse, a cook, a gardener who comes once a week, and a housekeeper.”
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