Page 57

I can’t believe what I just saw. Was it real, or is my mind truly playing tricks on me? I can’t help but feel lost in this whirlwind of confusion. Embarrassment floods my veins as Don wraps me tightly in a warm embrace, lifting me up ever so gently. I’m mortified at the fact that I rushed out in only a towel, but I’m certain I saw Jack; he was standing right there. What’s happening to me? Am I really losing my grip on reality?

Fuck! The poor gardener. I convinced myself he was Jack for a moment. Frustrated with myself, I murmur my apologies to Don as we ascend the stairs. He must be so disappointed with me by now; who would want to deal with this kind of instability?

To my surprise, once we reach the bedroom, he keeps me wrapped in his warm embrace. “Everything will be okay,” he whispers gently in my ear. My heart aches, and I don’t even know how to respond. Gently setting me down on the bed, I gaze up at him, worry etched clearly on my face.

“I’m so sorry; I really thought I saw Jack. It…,” I start to explain, but he cuts me off with a soft, understanding kiss.

“I know, Sweetheart,” he replies, his tone soothing.

Slowly he averts his gaze from me, and begins sifting through the drawers and retrieves a few items. He doesn’t seem upset with me, but I wonder if he’s just really good at hiding his feelings. I can’t shake off the fear of disappointing him. Lovingly, he hands me a pile of clothes, blankly gazing at them while it takes a moment for me to process what they are. My mind is still a whirlwind, and it doesn’t seem to want to calm down.

“Are you mad at me?” I blurt out, my voice tinges with anxiety, desperate for reassurance.

“Not at all,” he says gently. “After everything you’ve been through, it’s completely understandable.” Softly he places a kiss on my lips and holds my face in his hands, gazing deeply into my eyes. “You are much stronger than you realize. Now, let’s get you dressed, and I’ll take you to see your dad before the funeral starts.” I nod, feeling a warmth in his words, and rapidly proceed to the bathroom to get dressed, grateful for his kindness and support.

Once I return to the room, I discover Don sitting on the bed, he gives me a playful whistle, and I respond with a playful curtsy that makes him chuckle.

Appreciation floods through me as I admire the clothing he selected, he chose a stylish black pant suit, along with some comfortable flats.

We proceed downstairs hand in hand. Thankfully Don engages me in light-hearted conversation, deliberately steering away from the incident in the garden. I appreciate his effort; it’s a relief not to dwell on my embarrassment any longer.

Relief shatters me as we enter my dad’s room and I see that his eyes are open. I settle on the edge of the bed while Don protectively stands behind me. Excitedly, I begin sharing about how beautiful everything is, mentioning how much my mom would love it. A lump forms in my throat as I speak, but I do my best to hold it together for my dad’s sake. Just then, Don receives a phone call and excuses himself to answer it. I maintain my focus and continue the conversation with my dad, hoping it will bring him some comfort.

Don returns and instantly wraps me in a warm embrace,

“I need to handle a few things. You stay with your dad. I’ll make sure there’s someone outside the door,” he whispers softly in my ear.

“Okay, I will,” I reply, as he proceeds through the door, closing it behind him. With Don gone, I figure it will be nice to wash my dad’s face and help him to look fresh for the funeral. He'll be seated in a special chair, and I want him to appear his best. He may not know what’s going on around him, but I want to do this for him and for my mom.

I rise up from the bed and proceed to the little table that the nurses have prepared. Unexpectedly, a knock sounds from the door. Initially, I think it’s Don, however as I turn around, I’m startled to see an older man. A sense of familiarity overpowers me as I watch intently as he walks toward my dad. Assuming he is here to assist, I continue with my task. A shiver runs through me as my gaze turns back to my dad, the sight before me stopping me dead in my tracks. Jack looms over my dad, gun in hand. There’s a peculiar mask perched atop his head, resembling old, dead skin. Frantically, I drop everything I’m holding and stride toward them with purpose.

“Stay where you are, or I will blow his head off.”

Immediately I freeze, feeling a mix of uncertainty and determination as I consider my next steps. “What do you want?” I ask, my voice shaking.

“What I am owed.” He answers smugly.

To my dismay I find myself compelled to ask. “And what is that?”

“You. Dead!” he replies with a malicious gaze in his eyes.

Every muscle in my body tenses, but I refuse to let fear paralyze me. I stand my ground, determined to face the situation head on. He starts laughing to himself maliciously, and I challenge the doubt creeping into my mind and proceed toward him. In that moment, I realize the power he holds. Jack looks at me with a chilling expression that leaves an indelible mark. Wickedly, he glares down at my dad and without hesitation he pulls the trigger.

My entire life rushes through my mind in a dizzying blur. I can hear the piercing screams, but it takes a moment to realize they’re coming from me.

Somehow, I must have lost consciousness for a moment because now I find myself down on the floor, Jack looming over me like a dark shadow. Without warning, he yanks me by my hair, dragging me toward the bed where my father lies lifeless. A wave of panic crashes over me, making it feel like there’s no oxygen left in the room. I gasp, desperately trying to fill my lungs, but each breath feels shallow and futile. Forcefully, he stands us both beside the bed and wraps his fingers tightly in the back of my hair with one hand, holding the gun to my head with the other. I try not to look at my dad's body, there’s so much blood everywhere. My heart’s pounding, as I struggle to keep my eyes wide open, terrified that if I let them close, I might never have the chance to reopen them.

Suddenly, the door slams open, and Don strides in, flanked by three intimidating men. Time seems to freeze as they all fixate on us, their gazes heavy with an unspoken tension. I turn to Don, searching for a glimmer of reassurance, but what I find in his eyes is far from comforting, it's a reflection of fear that chills me to the bone. Don attempts to say something, but Jack stops him when he forces my face down into the bed, smothering me in my dad’s blood. He rapidly drags me back up by the hair, securing me back into the same position, with the gun to the back of my head.

“I don’t want to hear a word from anyone, I want everyone to back off. I will shoot her brains out if anyone says anything,” he yells out. I’m so fucking scared that I’m going to die, that he’s going to kill me. My whole body is shaking with fear.

From behind me I feel Jack shift on his feet before he loudly announces,

“I want everyone to back up, I want a safe passage out of here, otherwise this bitch gets it.”

All the men’s gazes land on Don, who gives a subtle nod. Instantly, they retreat from the room like shadows slipping into the night. Jack proceeds forward, heaving me along painfully. I strain to keep my eyes locked on Don, with my dad's blood dripping off my forehead into my eyes, it’s nearly impossible. “Make sure it’s clear all the way out.” Jack yells out, continuing forward. Don shifts to the side, raising his hands. Jack doesn’t stop; he keeps advancing, glancing around cautiously as if searching for something lurking in the shadows. It’s a strange choreography of movement, and I find myself caught in a web of confusion and fear. My heart races, and my body seems to react on instinct, propelling me forward even as uncertainty grips my mind. Before I know it, we find ourselves stepping out into the open air.