Broken Wings (A Romantic Suspense)(72)

Her bottom lip trembles, and she bares her teeth.

“That boy has been a bad influence on you—”

“Jessica, I’m not fifteen anymore. That man is my husband and he’s welcome in my house, not you. You need to leave, right now.”

She steps toward me. I retreat into the kitchen, looking around for the phone. Or a weapon.

There’s a knife block on the counter. I could go for it if I need to.

“I’m not leaving, and Jack isn’t staying. His father will take care of that.”

“You are leaving.” I lift the phone from the cradle. “I’m calling the police if you don’t leave.”

I shift the phone awkwardly in my hand, rather than trying to poke the buttons with my useless claw.

Jessica moves viper quick, and slaps the receiver out of my hand. It clatters on the floor and I jump for it, but she knots her fist in my hair. I scream as she yanks me back.

My bad hand hits the knife block and it topples to the floor. One steak knife teeters on the edge of the counter and I snatch the handle and swing it wildly around, trying to slash her arm.

Jessica grabs my wrist with her free hand. With my other all I can do is bat uselessly at her grip. She yanks hard on my hair as she pries the knife out of my hand.

The blade touches my throat, and its bite is cold. I go still.

“Shut up and walk upstairs. Now.”

“Jessica—”

“Now.”

Her voice is flat, toneless. I awkwardly shuffle up the stairs with her behind me, holding the serrated edge of the steak knife to my neck. I can feel my pulse against it. The edge longs for me, digs into my skin with all the anticipation of a hungry man just biting into the firm flesh of an apple. One little jerk and she’ll open the vein and I’ll die.

“Please,” I whimper, “if there’s something you want, I’ll give it to you.”

“You are going to give me what I want. Finally.”

“Mom, don’t do this,” I plead, desperate. Maybe that will work.

“You can stop calling me that now. It’s tiresome.”

She pushes me hard into my bedroom and then into the bathroom.

There’s a handwritten note on the vanity. She pushes me closer and then shoves me forward. I reach for it but she stops me by poking the tip of the knife into my back.

“Don’t touch that. This has all been very carefully set up.”

I don’t need to pick it up. Just going by skimming the first line, it’s clear what it is.

It’s a suicide note with my signature.

It feels like ice water creeping up my legs into my body.

“What is this?”

“Stand there,” she says, stepping back.

I don’t move from my spot, but I turn just enough to see that she’s wearing my gloves, and holding my father’s gun.

“Now we just have to wait. Jack will come rushing through that door any minute now, and you’re going to put a bullet in him, then blow your brains all over the ceiling.”

“That won’t work. You’re insane.”

“Recognize this?” she says. “I thought it would be appropriate.”

“This is nuts. You’re not going to get my money. I don’t even have that much. What do you even need it for? You’re married to the fifth richest man in the world.”

“Fourth,” she says, grinning. “You have to understand, Ellie, that now that Jack has proven that he won’t play ball with his father, he’s going to be a liability, and let’s be honest here. If I get rid of him, Richard’s money goes to me. He doesn’t live a very healthy lifestyle. A sudden heart attack, so tragic. Oh, the other bitches get a cut, but I made sure I’ll get most of it. I’m going to get what I deserve. You know what the real reason is, though? I started with nothing. I became one of the best financial planners in the industry, and what do I get? People say I sucked cock to the top. They credit my success to your father, or to Richard.”

She sneers. “Of course, that’s not the main reason. This is personal. If you’d just f*cking done what you were told, I’d be managing a media empire by now. You had potential, Ellie. It’s almost a shame to see you ruined like this. I’m doing you a favor, saving you from living the rest of your life as a freak. He’d get tired of it, eventually. He’s a young man and young men think with their dicks. How long before he gets tired of waking up next to that?”

“You’re wrong.”

Someone pounds on the front door.

“Ellie!”

Oh God. It’s Jack.

“Don’t say a f*cking word,” she says, very softly, “or I’ll shoot you right now.”

I have to do something, I have to. I take a half step and she jerks her arm straight, aiming at my head.

“Not one step. Not one sound.”

A crash. He must have kicked the door in.

“Ellie!”

“Jack!” I cry out.

Too late. He rushes into the room.

My eye follows the gun. Jessica swings it around, aims, and grins. Jack spots her.

Then Richard comes barreling in and crashes into Jack, smashes him to the floor. The gun goes off with a thunderous boom, and fills the room with a peal of thunder that lances into my ears like hot needles. Richard falls on top of Jack, covered in blood soaking into his dark coat and white shirt and red tie. Jack rolls his father over.