The Fall(84)

And while I hadn’t enjoyed the mild heart attack Elena’s midnight sleepwalk had caused, it had been informative. The close call gave us some much needed recon. For now the Amaro Trio, aka Sofia’s brothers, weren’t in the house and Elena’s freak show mask suggested there weren’t any other houseguests either. Jimmy’s wife would never allow anyone to see her if she wasn’t at her best. And hopefully whatever drug cocktail she had taken would keep her out for the count and we could get this done without collateral damage. We also didn’t know if and when Sofia’s brothers were coming back so shit needed to happen ASAP.

“Wait,” I whispered against her hair, her body jerking as she was about to take a step. “Give him time to settle back in and then go.”

She nodded her head in understanding, her shoulders relaxing a little as she settled into her shoes.

This was the last time she would ever feel like this and I wanted for her to remember what it felt like before.

Before she’d taken that final step and crossed onto the other side.

Because once you’ve gone there, there was no coming back.





He’d killed her too.

My mother.

She might be alive in the physical sense, but who she used to be was completely gone. I barely recognized her anymore; her once perfectly coiffured hair in complete disarray. It looked like it hadn’t been combed in days. The smear of lipstick across her face making her mouth look distorted, her eyes blackened by forgotten mascara.

That was not my mother; that was a woman who had given up. Beaten down by a man who hadn’t loved her or paid attention to her in years, who believed as long as he kept her in diamonds and designer clothes that he had fulfilled his duty.

A man who could corrupt his sons into believing that this was the way life worked and then turned around and killed his only daughter because she hadn’t toed the line.

I felt sick. Consumed by rage on how he had infected them all, with no regard for anyone’s life or happiness other than his own.

And I’d never wanted to kill him as much as I did at that moment.

It felt like an eternity waiting, but I knew it hadn’t been longer than a couple of minutes, and when everything had gone quiet again I took the first step away from Michael. He had been at my back, and I knew that as I did this, he would continue to be. And then I would do the same for him. Freeing us both from this merry-go-round.

My head nodded as I moved slowly up the stairs, Michael following me close behind. I could tell he hated not being in the lead, but it had to be me. And for once he didn’t argue, his tensed jaw staying shut as I strode further and further toward my father’s bedroom door.

It was dark, so dark. The house starved of light just like it had been of compassion. And every single part of my body was hypersensitive as my hand slowly pushed open the door and my foot took a step inside.

“Elena, I told you there is no one here.” My father’s voice was followed by a rustle of sheets, his hand hitting the lamp on his nightstand.

Michael didn’t wait, stepping out from my side and getting behind my father before his feet had fully hit the floor.

“Hello, Jimmy.” The gun in his right hand was pointblank at my father’s temple while his left was pressed against my father’s kidneys. “We’ve come to pay our respects.”

“What the f*ck.” My dad’s eyes got wide as they focused on me, my gun aimed at his heart. “Sofia?” he coughed in surprise.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” My feet moved me closer even though my skin prickled in repulsion at being in the same room with him. “Maybe that’s exactly what I am.”

His chest expanded but for a man who always had so much to say he was speechless. I’m sure he was asking the questions even if he wasn’t vocalizing them, namely why hadn’t Michael killed me? But in his eyes I saw that he knew that none of them mattered anymore. I was still here and I knew everything.

“Sofia,” Michael hissed, reminding me I had a job to do. “Do it, or I will.”

I secured the safety and holstered my weapon. It was the first time since we’d entered the house that I didn’t have it in my hand and I felt naked without it. But Michael was right about not being able to shoot my father. It would attract too much attention and could only be used as a last resort.

The sheath Velcro’d to my thigh held a hunting knife. Michael had given it to me before I’d crawled into the trunk of his car. It was heavier than it looked, razor sharp, and as my hand grabbed the perfectly balanced hilt, I felt empowered.

“You won’t do it.” My father coughed, his lips twisting into a smirk. “You are too much like your mother. She’s weak too, but at least she learned her place.”

Later I would try and remember the moment, but in the present I didn’t care. My hand rose and I sliced his neck from one side to the other as the gush of blood sprayed onto my chest.

He spluttered. His eyes wide open in complete bewilderment, his body jerking as Michael held him up—the guns in his hands not helping—as the blood flowed onto the floor. And there would be no final words spoken, not from him to me or me to him.

“Good thing you’re dead and they won’t be able to find me in the cop DNA data base.” Michael lowered my father’s still-twitching body to the floor. “It will be a real head scratcher for their CSI team.” He stood up, holstering one of his guns and smiled. Completely unaffected by the fact he’d just witnessed me fillet my father’s throat.