Twisted Love (Twisted, #1)(66)

Nina cowered in the passageway, clutching her beloved cat, Smudges, to her chest. We’d stumbled on the stray one day during a family picnic in the park, and she cried and begged until my parents agreed to let her keep it as a pet.

“It’ll be okay.” Papa had a gun in his hand. He always kept one in the house, but I’d never seen him use it. The sight of that shiny black metal glinting beneath the lights made my blood run cold. “Get in there with your sister and mother, and don’t make a sound. Everything will be fine—Lucia, what are you doing?”

Mama swung the passageway shut while Nina and I stared with wide eyes.

“I’m not leaving you out here alone,” she said fiercely.

“Dammit, Lucy. You have to—”

The sound of a vase crashing to the floor interrupted Papa and startled Smudges, who yowled and broke free of Nina’s arms. He darted through the narrowing gap between the wall and passageway door.

“Smudges!” Nina yelled, scrambling after him.

I tried to grab her, but she wriggled out of my grasp and chased after him.

“Nina, no,” I whisper-yelled, but it was too late. She was gone, and the door shut, enveloping me in darkness. I sat there, my blood roaring in my ears while my eyes tried to adjust to the dark.

Mama and Papa put me in here for a reason, and I didn’t want to worry them by leaving. But I also needed to know what was going on, even though something screamed at me to turn away, to cover my eyes and hide.

I was hiding, but I wouldn’t cover my eyes.

The fireplace passageway had a peephole disguised as the eyes in a painting that hung above the mantel. I was a little too short, but if I stood on tiptoes and really stretched, I could look out into the living room.

What I saw made my blood run cold.

There were two strange men in the living room. They wore ski masks and carried guns—bigger than the one Papa had, which now lay at his feet. One of those guns pointed at Papa, the other at Mama and Nina. Mama covered Nina protectively while my sister cried and hugged Smudges tight. The cat was freaking out and yowling at the top of its lungs.

“Shut that damn thing up,” one of the men growled. “Or I’ll do it for you.”

Nina cried harder.

“Take whatever you want,” Papa said, his face pale. “Just don’t hurt my family.”

“Oh, we’ll take whatever we want,” the second man. “Unfortunately, I can’t guarantee the second part. In fact, let’s make this quick, shall we? No use dragging out the inevitable. We don’t get paid by the hour, y’know.”

A gunshot rang out. Somewhere, Mama and Nina screamed. I should’ve screamed too, but I didn’t. I could only watch, eyes wide and frozen, legs burning from how long and hard I stood on tiptoes, as a bright red stain blossomed on Papa’s chest. He staggered, his mouth moving but forming no words. Perhaps he would’ve survived one shot, but then another gunshot rang out, and another, and another, until Papa’s big, strong body thudded to the ground. It lay there, still and unmoving.

“It,” not “he.” Because the corpse wasn’t my Papa. It had his face and hair and skin, but Papa was gone. I’d seen him leave, the light fading from his eyes.

“No!” Mama wailed. She crawled toward Papa, but she only made it halfway before her body jerked and her mouth fell open. She, too, collapsed, her blood staining the floors.

“Damn, what d’you do that for?” the first man complained. “I wanted to have some fun with her first.”

“Bitch was getting on my nerves. Can’t stand all the wailing, and we’re here for a job, not your dick,” the second man growled.

The first man scowled but didn’t argue.

The pair stared at Nina, who cried so hard her face turned bright red and her body shook from the force of her sobs. Smudges hissed at the men, its eyes glowing ferociously in its tiny face. It was a kitten, but in that moment, it had all the trappings of a lion.

“Too young,” the first man said in disgust.

The second man ignored him. “Sorry, kiddo,” he told Nina. “Nothing personal. Your bad luck for being born into this family.”

My blood roared and roared. Liquid dripped down my wrist, and I realized I’d dug my nails into my palms so hard I was bleeding.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Each drip sounded like a sonic boom in the dark, cramped space. Could they hear it? Could they hear me, crouched behind the fireplace like a coward while they murdered my family?

I wanted to run out. I wanted to jump on the men and kick and claw. I wanted to bash their heads in with the heavy sculpture on the fireplace mantel and strip the flesh from their bones piece by piece until they begged for death.

It was the first time I’d had such violent thoughts. Mama was sweet and loving, and Papa was tough but fair. Honorable. They had raised Nina and me to be the same.

But after seeing what those men did, I wanted to torture them slowly. Endlessly.

Except I couldn’t. If I went out there, they would kill me too, and there would be no vengeance. No justice.

Drip. Drip. Dripdripdrip.

I bled faster. I couldn’t look away as the second man raised his gun again and fired.

One shot. That was all it took.

Smudges went berserk. He flew at the men, hissing and clawing. One of them cursed and tried to kick him, but he dodged just in time.