Page 119 of Arranged Control

“Hello, Darya.” Papa sounds calm. He approaches me, looking sad, and gently pushes my gun barrel down. He pats my wrist. “You’ve made a mess.”

“Are you enjoying the consequences of your own actions, Ruslan?”

“I’ve sinned. That we both know. But I loved you in my own way.”

“Pathetic. Liar. You can’t hurt what you love.”

“Maybe, but maybe not. I don’t know anymore.” He smiles slightly, head tilted to the side. “Did you tell Alina why you picked this place to meet?”

The knife against Seamus’s neck seems to pull back a few millimeters. “It’s not important.”

“This is where we went to eat the night after we got home with our little baby girl. Remember that? We were right there in that booth. Alina was still in her car seat. I rocked her with my toe while she slept. It’s one of my most treasured memories.”

“Strange coming from the man who brutally beat me that very same night,” she sneers.

Papa’s head hangs and he sighs. “I made mistakes.”

“You made them over and over, nearly nightly for a year, until I finally left.” The blade moves back again.

“Let him go, Darya. We both know it’s not him you hate.”

She glances at Seamus. He stares back at her, the gun still pressed to her chest. With a grunt of frustration, she shoves back, quickly jerking away.

Seamus doesn’t pull the trigger. He only puts a hand to his bleeding neck.

I run to him. Molchanie stares at me, desperation in her eyes, like she’s a trapped animal.

“Are you sure?” I throw myself at Seamus.

He wraps one arm protectively around my shoulders. “I’m fine. I’m alright, princess, it’s okay.”

“Enough.” Molchanie presses the heel of her palm against her forehead. “You’re wrong. You’re all wrong. I know what you are. I know—” She steps sideways, toward my father.

And he lunges at her.

I didn’t see it coming. I doubt Molchanie expected it. Ruslan drives the blade of the knife he had hidden in his jacket into her chest. She gasps in shock, red bubbling at her mouth, as she brings her own blade up, driving the tip straight under his ribs, driving it upwards. Blood pours out from the wound, drenching her fist and arm as Papa lets out a shuddering moan of pain, staring down at himself in shock.

“Should’ve known,” Molchanie whispers, caught in a bloody, ugly embrace with my father.

“I never let go.” Papa grips her tightly, ramming the knife in deeper with his last strength. “Never did let go.”

Molchanie lets out a whimper. Her eyes are wide as she looks at me. I’m not sure what she can see. My father crumples, knockingher backward, and she’s too weak to move his heavy corpse away. I stare in horror, unable to move, trapped in my own body as my father’s blood spreads across the floor, drenching the woman who abandoned me all those years ago.

“Alina.” Molchanie sounds weak. Her voice is barely a rasping whisper.

I pull away from Seamus. He tries to yank me back, but I slip from his grip. I roll Papa aside and find my mother with my father’s knife in her chest, his mouth covered in foamy red.

“I didn’t know,” I say, not sure what to do. “He wasn’t supposed to come in here.”

Her hand reaches for mine. “Don’t make my mistakes. Please, daughter?—”

I yank back. That word feels like a fire in my chest. I stand, staring down at the dying woman.

“You’re not my mother,” I tell her, even though she looks like I’m pummeling her to death with my bare fists. “And I’m nothing like you. I won’t abandon the people I love. I won’t kill to make people act like I want them to. And once you’re gone—” I step back toward Seamus. He takes my outstretched hand, and I help pull him to his feet. “I’ll forget you were ever here.”

Molchanie lets out a whimpering, pathetic cry as Seamus and I limp to the door together, leaning on each other for support, leaving behind the corpses of my parents right where they belong.

Chapter 40