Array
(
[text] =>
“Let me out!”
I yell through my raw throat, kicking and hitting the door but no one came. No one listened to me. I was taken from the damn car and woke up in this room—alone. I glance around the room biting my lower lip; I already checked the window and unfortunately, I’m too high to jump. I’d hurt my ankle knowing my shit luck.
I breathe in before I get a panic attack. I don’t know where I am, I don’t know if I’m going to live, I don’t know if Neil is okay which I am absolutely certain he’s going to be pissed when he finds out about this. I walk back to the bed and sit down, my fingers twiddling together out of anxiety as I continue to glance around the place.
It’s spacious and appears rather luxurious; the walls painted of alabaster and pristine floors made of a darker shade of alabaster than the walls. The bedframe, chest, dresser, and side stands are made of a solid, brown wood. In front of me is the dresser with a tall mirror, there’s a door to the left which I found out is the closet and to the right is another door—the bathroom. With a small locked window.
No matter how deluxe this room looks, I am not staying here. One thing I hate the most out of everything is being kept in a locked area. I bite my lower lip, trembling fingers clasping each other tightly as an attempt to make it stop but instead it becomes worse. I have to remind myself that I’m doing this for Neil. I’m doing this so he doesn’t get hurt.
I have to keep in mind that my mother has something to do with these guys and there’s a good possibility I’ll be okay. Except it doesn’t mean I want to be here. I just want it all to end, I want this all to stop before more people die. Then my body thought it is a great timing to feel queasy recalling the amount of people I had killed.
It felt so normal. So natural as if I’ve done it thousands of times and it scares me. I can’t bring myself to keep thinking about it as I fight back the nausea; while in the middle of my battling to throw up the door is finally opened. I snap my head to their direction, blue eyes wide when I see a tall man with dark—probably black—hair, blue eyes, and appears to be in his late thirties.
I can’t help staring at the man, he is good looking but there’s something about the smile on his thin lips and presence that gives him a sinister impression. Next to him is my mother, brown hair a complete mess and her brown eyes sparking in relief as well as her small frame noticeably tense.
“Matt!” My mother carries her feet to my direction as an attempt to embrace me but I push myself off the mattress keeping a distance between us. My instincts are kicking in, telling me to not trust anyone, to keep away from everyone. I eye her suspiciously, cautiously as her face falls.
“Mom, what the hell are you doing here? And who is that man?” I demand, swallowing the lump in my throat and curl my fingers into a fist to stop the tremors. My mother sits on the bed sparing a glance to the raven haired man who looks mildly amused by this; I shiver, goosebumps rising on my skin and a small headache throbs my temples.
Why does he look so familiar?
His blue eyes stray away from mines to my mother, “Matt doesn’t know. I wonder why that is Olivia?” His honied voice is charming and taunting at once. Even his voice. I’ve hear it before. My mother glares at him, “Alec, don’t.” She answers coldly.
I stiffen at the name and I step even further away and looking him over, this is Alec Roman? The man Neil is supposed to kill? The dangerous man who is hunting Neil and me like dogs? “Don’t what? He has the right to know.” Alec taunts further, gradually sparking my curiosity.
I glance at my mother still trying to get through my head how she fits in all this. Why she knows a dangerous man like Alec. “What don’t I know? Tell me.” I demand from her; her eyes meet my own agonized, “Matt, don’t listen to him. Let’s just go back home, Phoebe, Terry, and William are waiting for you. They’re worried sick.” At the mention of them, my heart squeezes in my chest from how much I have missed them.
But I can’t let myself waver, I need to know what she’s keeping from me. I need to know what the hell is going on. “Mom, what don’t I know? Just tell me already! I want to know why do you know this man, I want to you why you put a GPS tracker in my wallet, I want to know why…” I drift off unable to finish the last sentence due to my shorten breath.
Suddenly I’m afraid to hear her answer, I’m afraid to know what is it she’s keeping from me. “You heard him, tell the poor boy the truth.” His expression drops stoically, crossing his arms over his chest, cold blue eyes gazing at her with silent promise of…revenge? I look away from him to my mother who slowly stands up from the bed and faces me.
Her eyes becoming glossy from the unshed tears and her nose red, “I just want you to understand I’ve been trying to protect you, I never meant for you to find out this way, I never wanted you to find at all and I am so sorry I lied to you.” Her voice cracks, tears rolling down her flushed cheeks as her lips struggle to take in as much air as possible. Yet I couldn’t do anything.
I couldn’t walk over there, hug her, and comfort her. I couldn’t tell her it is going to be okay and that no matter what I wouldn’t hate her. I couldn’t because I know it isn’t true. I couldn’t because I know for a fact whatever is about to come out of her mouth, whatever truth she’s been keeping from me is going to change everything.
The silence is so thick only broken by her small sniffles until she finally composes herself and closes her eyes, “Alec is your father.”
I immediately shake my head at her, an anxious laugh bubbling from my throat but it comes out shaky, “No. No, you’re wrong. William…William Solavin is my dad. I…you…no, that can-” I glance over to the man leaning against the wall doing nothing. His eyes stare at me and it dawns on me.
Why my hair and eyes are different from Terry and William. Why I don’t look like my mother nor my father. I realize how I look so much like Alec Roman…his black hair immaculately combed back, his blue eyes piercing into me, the thin lips, the straight nose, the roundness of his face.
It’s like I am looking at myself but an older version of me. My back meets the wall I didn’t know is there, glancing at my mother in denial, “I’m…I’m Matt Solavin, right? The second son of Olivia and William Solavin. That’s who I am. I have an older brother named Terry and a little sister named Phoebe.” I say, trying so hard to believe it, trying so hard to hold onto it until I can’t anymore. Until everything my life has been built on is crumbling in front of me.
The man…the man who is meant to be my father pushes himself away from the wall and walks closer, “You’re Matt Roman, you’re my only son. Sophia and I are your parents but Sophia—your mother—died a few hours after you were born but before I could get there to see you, Olivia already took custody of you.” His voice is tender, patient like a parent.
“I was only allowed to see you two times a week until an incident happened that nearly took your life and you lost your memories. You forgot who I am.” I raise my hand to my head, clutching on black hair. This…this can’t be real. There is no way…but it is true. I can’t remember my childhood I can’t remember anything from when I was a kid but right now all I can think about is how I have met this man before.
I have known him before and that’s because he’s my father. My mother has been dead for eighteen years of my life. The woman I thought was my mother is actually my aunt…none of this was real. I was never Matt Solavin, I was never their second son, I was never a ‘normal’ guy and somehow a part of me knew that.
Instinctual behavior. Learning-performance distinction. Change.
“When holding a rifle, you place your hand right here,” A younger Alec smiles down softly, raising the rifle so that the butt of the weapon is sternly placed on his shoulder, one hand on the trigger guard, and the other wraps around the stock. “Make sure you have a firm grip but not too tight, just enough so when the gun kicks you won’t be knocked off your feet. You already checked the chamber, now all that is left to do is focus on the sight. Aim on your target then shoot.”
I repeat his actions, smiling in excitement to have my father teach me again. The sun brightly shining though the cracks of the ruffling leaves, birds chirping from a distance, the air pure and musky when I breathe in. The rifle in my hands is lofty, heavy but I manage to shift into the same pose as my father, aiming to a deer drinking from a small creek of water flowing in beautiful flecks in the middle of the woods.
My blue eyes drift to my father who nods, mouthing a single word of confirmation. “Shoot.”
The memory fades and I cover my face with my hands sliding down the wall to the floor. Why am I suddenly remembering him? Why couldn’t I remember anything about him before? All the things I did yesterday and before then, I acted on instinct. A part of me was used to this, a part of me already knew what actions to take in the situation, and my subconsciousness knew I was changing.
Alec taught me how to shoot a gun. He taught me how to survive. He taught me to trust my instincts no matter what. He taught me when my life is ever in danger that I should forget all human morality and think about how I will make it out alive.
“Matt, I’m sorry.” I hear…Olivia…say. I don’t want to hear her apologies, I don’t want to hear what else she has to say. As a mater of fact I don’t want to look at her face only to remember how she is my aunt, how my mother is dead, how my father is a dangerous criminal. “Get out.” I respond in a disembodied voice.
“Matt-“
“I said get the fuck out or are you deaf?!” I shout, throwing my hands off my face, chest seething in both rage and pain. Her eyes widen, lips quivering, with a simple nod of understanding she turns on her heels darting out of the door. Not before stopping beside Alec, “I hope you got what you wanted.” She spits in venom.
I look at the man—at my father with the same look as I have given her. He understands with a simple glimpse to my direction and leaves the room after her. Closing it. I release a shaky breath, swallowing the large lump in my throat but instead it grows bigger, hurting me as I choke on a sob. Tears streaming down my face.
This is not what I came here for, this is not how I wanted things to happen. It’s all a fucked up mess, somehow the man Neil is trying to kill is my father and my father is a dangerous criminal. I can’t begin to understand what my mother saw in him that made her think it was a good idea to have a kid.
But somehow I can’t harbor any bad feelings towards him. I can’t bring myself to loathe him when I’m steadily remembering the times he’s been there for me. The times he wouldn’t miss a single week to pick me up and take me to so many places. The times he would carry me around and buy me whatever I want whenever I wanted. The times I would laugh and smile happily when I see him but cry and miss him when I didn’t see him.
It’s all so hard remembering all of this, it’s hard to make up my mind about him when my feelings are mixed in with the feelings I felt towards him as a kid. He’s always been a good father and no matter how bad he is I just can’t stop seeing him as the father who sung to me in order to sleep. I wish I wasn’t remembering all these things, I wish all these memories were buried in my head so I can bring myself to hate him.
To hate him, to be disgusted by him, to want him dead for what he did to Neil and Frank…but I can’t. Anger begins to seethe in me, struggling to regulate my breathing and it makes my temples throb even worse. I sniffle pushing myself off the wall and walk to the bed. Exhaustion clawing its way to my body, thoughts and memories swimming in my head.
Despite everything that’s happening at the moment, there’s only one person I’m thinking of. Wishing he was here. Neil.
I jerk awake, my brain racing barely able to grasp onto a single notion of anything until I realize I am still in the same room, in the same place I woke up to the first time. It wasn’t a dream. Alec Roman truly is my father. I hold in my breath, trying to calm down the rapid palpitations as I throw myself off the large mattress, darting to the bathroom on the right side of the dresser. As I do so, I flick on the lights placing either hand on the sink and end up staring on the porcelain bowl made out of ceramic.
I shouldn’t have come here. If I had known the truth, if I had known that…she was keeping this secret about my father being a criminal, I wouldn’t have come back. But for some reason I can’t hate my father no matter how much I want to hate him, no matter how much I want to be disgusted at the fact he is like those very nasty people who preys on the powerless, and it makes it so much worse when I come from the same blood as him.
I want to hit him, hell even shoot it but I know if I ever had a gun in my hand I wouldn’t be able to pull the trigger. I’m just that stupid. My mind is swimming with memories of the father I had when I was younger, before I lost my memories, before I lost him in the process of things. Then I begin to think…if Neil didn’t take me with him to protect me, would…Olivia had ever told me the truth about who I am?
Would I still be living as Matt Solavin completely oblivious of the fact that his life was built on a lie? For some reason I prefer it this way, I prefer that I did know because now I know how things are never what I think they are. They are never how I want them to be no matter how desperate I am for it to be that way. Neil is probably pissed by now, either he’s going to be stupid and come to rescue me before he yells at me for leaving or he’ll stop giving a shit and leave.
No matter how a part of me felt as if it is my fault. Sulking in the bathroom until another part of me is driven by instincts; I can’t stay here. I can’t stay in this place, my life will no longer be the same if I try to return and there is no way my father will let me go this time now that I know the truth. I am scared. I don’t know if he is the same man I remember him to be.
I don’t know what he’s capable of. He looks entirely different from how I remember him and I am far too scared to find out myself if he is or isn’t the same father from my past. I never should have watched so many action movies, now I can’t stop thinking how he can and will shoot me if he wants to.
Is he capable of shooting his own son? For some reason I wouldn’t be surprised if he is and at the same time I am too afraid to know the answer to my question. I flicker my blue eyes upward taking a good look at my face; same dark hair, same blue eyes, same roundness of the face, same lips, and nose. Everything to the dot.
My attention falls on the collar around my neck, the sleek leather that has been rubbing my skin for days but never left a mark. I freeze. GPS tracker. Neil knows where I am or at least if he bothered to check where I am and actually plans to come for me. How would he react when he finds out the man he was trying to kill is my father? How would he react to the fact he has feelings for the son of the man who wants to him?
Suddenly I feel disheartened and depressed, I have no idea what I should do. Will I be able to escape in the first place? They probably have all kinds of bodyguards and cameras around the place. I curse under my breath wishing I can think of something—anything that can get me out of here. Away from here.
Maybe not with Neil, maybe I won’t ever be with Neil knowing who I am. He probably wouldn’t want to be anywhere near me once he finds out and I can’t handle it. I’ll find a way out, run as far as I can, hide, and never come back for anything. Not for Neil. Not for the ones I thought were my parents nor the ones I thought were my siblings.
I shake my head, staring at the collar around my throat knowing if I try to take it off I’ll be electrocuted. I have no idea what was going through the asshole’s mind to put this on me, he could have put on a tracking bracelet but no he has to put a fucking collar like I’m a dog.
It’s worse when it shocks you. This is abuse. Or it’s him being a creepy sadist.
I push the thought out of my head before I start getting weird ideas about what Neil I probably into and I am completely unaware. Yeah, that is totally something I want to spend thinking about when I could be living the last days of either my life or what will become my future. I turn around to exist the door when I see white towel on the towel rack.
Something clicks from the back of my head; I know I hate doing this, I still feel queasy about this but if I have to choose between my life and theirs, I much rather save myself when I am pretty sure they’d do the same thing if I was the one threatening their life. Which I will be in the next few moments.
I yank the towel off the rack and step out; I wrap the towel around my knuckles and tightly grip it as if they were brass knuckles. I look into the mirror taking a deep breath while thinking about my next moves. Who am I kidding? Do I have to think? I take a step back and direct a hit to the mirror causing the glass to shatter, falling onto the sink in shards while some remain in the same position.
I undo the towel around my knuckles using it to grab a decent sized shard gazing at it, I exhale remembering the first time I held a knife. My small hands were a shaking mess, making everything sloppy, and I started out by cutting wood. After wood, I began to cut birds, then rabbits, and finally bigger animals; by then the tremors in my hands has stopped, skillfully slicing into the flesh, gliding it across.
I am no longer shaking, in fact there is a peace settling in my mind as I leave the bathroom and head to the direction of the door. I stop in front of it pressing my ear against it to listen very carefully to any sounds, as I do so I can hear soft murmurs giving myself time to decipher how many of them are guarding the door.
“He’s still asleep. Yes, boss. I’ll keep a close eye on him. No worries.”
I hold my breath when I hear them shift, furrowing my eyebrows when I realize the voice belongs to a man. I wait until it grows silent, I step away from the door and press my back onto the wall beside the door frame inhaling deeply before releasing loud shout of fright. The door is pushed open, the man storming in looking out frantically.
“Kid? Is everything okay? Do I have to call your dad?” I hold in the cringe of disgust when he says that, sounding as if he’s genuinely concerned while reaching for a gun tucked onto his lower waist. I slowly push the door leaving it slightly ajar as I stalk behind him, carefully, taking my time the closer he approaches the bathroom.
When I notice the way his body stiffens as if he can sense me behind him, I reach out clasping my hand over his mouth and yank him backward jabbing the sharp shard into his midsection of his back to keep him from grasping for his gun. My hand muffles the sounds of agony tearing out of his throat, taking out the shard from his back and wrap my arm around his throat pressing it roughly and slowly across his vocal cords.
I close my eyes cancelling out the gurgles and desperate chokes, his body convulsing as I slowly walk back to drop his body onto the floor. I keep my eyes close until I don’t hear it anymore, nausea kicking at my stomach full force causing me to swallow harshly when I feel a knot forming. Pull yourself together, Matt. It’s either you or them. I open my eyes refusing to look at the body at my feet as I crouch down to move him enough for me to take the gun while dropping the piece of glass.
I notice small blots of blood caking my forearm mounting the nausea building up inside of me. I shake it off deciding I can kick myself over it once I find a way out without getting caught. I walk to the door, opening it enough for me to leer over to either end of the corridors.
On either end there appears to me some sort of door, an oval glass allowing me to see a man to my left not noticing anything with his back facing me and looking down on something. I hold the gun with both hands trying to figure out how to take him out without making any noise; that is until I notice a lofty white vase in a floral design on top of a table.
I can smash it across his head and pray he is knocked out because if that doesn’t work then the movies have been lying. I open the door a little more, crouching down seeing as the oval glass only extends to barely half the door. I shove the cool metal onto my lower waist. I don’t approach the table too closely, using my slender fingers to outstretch my limbs until the rim of the vase is at the pads of my fingers and snatch it, hauling myself to the wall.
I slide up the wall slowly making my way toward it, using the blind spot to my advantage since he won’t be able to see me against the wall unless he’s on a certain angle. My breathing is measured, movements calculated until I am standing in front of it and twist the knob, “Yes!” The man jumps raising a hand in an excited shout startling me.
I see him wearing headphones from either ear earning a look as I raise my hands and bring it down at full force smashing the glass over his head effectively knocking him out on the floor sprawled out. I glance at the phone that dropped from his hand to see him watching a soccer game, what kind of guard distracts himself watching soccer?
When I really think about it, I’m glad he did. If he wasn’t distracted by it I would have to kill someone again. I shake my head spotting a set of stairs leading to the lower floor; I was about to peer over it until a door opens and I respond instinctively by reaching for the gun and aiming it at the person coming out of the door.
My breathing hitches when I see honey brown eyes looking back at me in pure surprise. I can’t help staring into those eyes that show me a completely different world from what I live in, a world offering me a way out of what I am in. A world that makes me feel so alive and give in to the powerful tides of adrenaline kicking in my veins serving to be an addictive rush.
“Neil,” His name slips out of my lips in utter relief, putting down my hand as he does so and before I can say anything else I’m pulled into his arms with his nose buried in my hair. His strong aromatic fragrance gracing my nose relaxing the tension in my body, “I’m so sorry.” I mumble, burying my face onto his collarbone.
His skin is so warm, body built extremely well as I can basically feel it from the thin fabric he’s wearing at the moment, “You should be, you idiot. You scared the hell out of me.” His voice thick from worry making the guilt weighing heavy in my chest to become worse.
He pulls away placing one hand on my check while the other is gripping his gun, his eyes peering down at me softly, “I’ll get you out of here. But I think you need to know something first, your dad is-“
“Alec Roman, I know. And the woman I thought was my mom turns out to be my aunt.” My tone lacing in sorrow. My heart squeezes me, making it hard to breathe knowing now that Neil already knows the truth; I move away from his touch casting my eyes to the ground avoiding the unconscious body whose phone still displays the sports game.
“Matt, I don’t care who your dad is. You don’t get to choose who your parents are, I just want to get you out of here. I want to get you far away from this,” He pauses for a moment, “I want to take you with me.” I snap my head to him, eye widening at his own words.
No. That can’t be true. He said he wouldn’t, he said the world he lives in is too dangerous for me, and he even said that our feelings are just feelings. He said our feelings wouldn’t become anything more than it is. Why would he want to take me? After knowing who my father is, he still wants to take me with him?
“Neil…I thought…you said…I-I’m…” I splutter finding no words to say anything in response until I realize my cheeks are burning. He smiles, “I wanted to talk to you about it before you decided to leave. You can answer me after I get you out of here, I have no idea how much time we have before they find out something is off.”
I nod my head gripping the gun in hand as we walk pass a staircase and he opens a door to what seems to be an elevator, I furrow my eyebrows wondering how did he know it was there while stepping inside. I stay silent, watching him step in the small box closing the door and pressing onto the button of the first floor.
I don’t know how to talk to him at the moment, as a matter of fact I have no idea how I was able to talk to him before but then again, I didn’t know the truth. I can’t help glancing at Neil’s direction biting my lower lip as I make up my mind despite the doubts and fears shrouding me.
One thing I hate above all else is being alone. Neil is saying he wants to take me with him and if I say ‘no’ I’ll be alone this time. No family, no friends. Constantly running. Surrounding by strangers every day and the thought of it makes me anxious; the only way things were bearable with Neil is because I started to know him.
He eventually became a face that wasn’t unknown to me. “I want to go with you.” I finally say, earning a glance by the taller male, “Good. I was going to take you whether you wanted me to or not.”
I twitch scowling at his arrogance, I have no idea why I bother sometimes, “I changed my mind.” I grunt under my breath ignoring the sheepish look settling on his face until the elevator stops with a small lurch. He steps forward, slowly pushing open the door of the elevator then beckons me with the hand holding his gun.
I follow closely, keeping a firm hold on the gun in my hands trying to peer over his shoulder only for him to guide to the opposite direction he is leading me and I press my back onto the wall peering over to see an empty hall. I start walking there feeling Neil follow behind and we stiffen at the voices coming to our direction probably from outside assuming there’s a door when turning to the right.
Neil grabs a hold of me, abruptly opening a door I wasn’t aware exists and he closes it softly just as another door it opened, “He gave us five minutes. The sooner we hurry up the faster we’re back on post.”
“Did you hear?”
“Hear what?”
“About Roman’s kid. I hear he looks exactly like him when he was younger.”
“Oh! I remember the kid. Didn’t he lose his memories after what happened?”
A hushing sound comes from one of them as they walk pass the doors we are in causing me to hitch my breathing drawing closer to Neil, “We were told never to talk about it. I don’t know if he remembers anything yet. Let’s hurry up before we get yelled at again.” They pick up the pace leaving the hallway; I furrow my eyebrows wondering about what happened to me to have me lose my memories.
I can’t remember a single thing no matter how hard I try. Neil nudges me, shuddering when his lips brushes against my ear, “We should hurry up too.” I unintentionally flush at the sound of his voice, he shifts away from me and toward the door only cracking it open for him to survey his surroundings while I’m here standing behind him—glaring.
He shoves the door open and I step out keeping my glare in place, proceeding towards the direction where the other two came through. I can’t shake off what they said, it doesn’t make sense to me why would my father keep it a secret. Why can’t they talk about it? What exactly happened to me all those years ago? Did I know what he did for a living when I was younger?
I don’t know. I don’t want to know. I don’t want to keep thinking about something…someone who died a long time ago. I stand beside the door as Neil approaches it, twisting the knob and poking he head out then nods. I keep following him, eyes darting from one side to the other to assure no one will give us some sort of surprise attack.
We keep walking until we reach another door; this time he doesn’t check to make sure no one is around but instead keeps going. I close the door behind me ascending a set of stairs until we reach another door, this time he does check before continuing. Turning to the right I walk down the small steps seeing we’re in the garage.
I furrow my eyebrows, but I don’t question him, we’re going to take one of these cars? One is sleek and shiny looking like a luxurious sports car, the other is bold and glossy giving a more monstrous impression from either speed or performance. Neil obviously chooses the monstrous looking car, I walk to the passenger seat waiting to see if it’s unlocked.
“There’s no way out other than the front gate so make sure you have your seatbelt on incase the car doesn’t make it pass.” Neil says and I give him a horrified look as a response. I open the car door when I hear it unlock, jumping in. He’s the last to get inside pulling out a set of keys, “Did you steal it?”
He gives me a look, “No, I burrowed it so I can kidnap you.” I roll my eyes shaking my head while he starts the car. What were the chances of me meeting Neil that night? It wouldn’t be kidnap since he is protecting me; my eyes flicker to the side mirror when I see the door we came in opens.
I curse, “Hurry!” I say just as a bullet ripples through the air with a crack and I instinctively ducked to avoid it. I recover, twisting myself enough to aim the gun and pull the trigger, the glass of the window on my side break instantly sending small pieces to my lap. The guy crumbles to the ground, “Remind me not to piss you off now that I know you can shoot a gun.”
I peer over to him blankly, “I was always able to shoot a gun, I just didn’t remember.” Neil hits the gas petal causing the car to lunge forward and break through the door of the garage. His hands rotate the steering wheel as we turn to face a large gate from a distance making me doubt this car can break through it.
Bullets and shouts resound through the air as we got pass the garage and to the green yard. I hold onto my gun waiting for the chance I might need it, “Frank never planned to let you go home.” I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. I’m pretty sure the plan was to let me go back and convince them to leave Neil alone since I was going back home.
Neil glances at me ignoring the bullets meeting the back of the car, “He knew the truth. So, he used you as bait to get my ass here and finish my job.” I freeze on the seat. I don’t know why I care, I don’t know why I can’t stand the thought of losing my father. He probably isn’t the man I remember him to be anymore but it doesn’t mean I want him dead.
I grow frustrated with myself with these conflicting emotions, “Wow, nice to know how much Frank cares but I’m grateful. I don’t want to be anywhere near them.” He smiles at me turning his head to face forward only to curse under his breath stomping on the brakes.
I snap my head forward, eyes wide at what I see. A group of men are at the gate, my father holding a gun to my mother’s neck—I know she isn’t my mother but she did raise me. No matter how hurt and angry I am from the lies, from not knowing the truth, I can’t let her die because of me.
The worse part is knowing it’s my father pointing the gun on her head, it’s knowing that the man holding the gun to her head isn’t the same man I remember him to be at all. “Whatever you do, don’t get out of the car. No matter what, okay?” I hear Neil’s voice speak softly yet sternly, I swallow the lump in my throat at the subtle urge to cry.
I nod my head tearing my eyes away from her to him, I notice he removed the ginger brown dye from his hair returning to its dark mane I remember it to be when I first met him. He rakes his hand through the short strands and when he is about to get out of the car I take a hold of his toned bicep—hesitating. He glances at me quizzically, “What is it?”
I tried to open my mouth but it wouldn’t work so I just opted in shaking my head and releasing his arm. He stares at me for a few seconds causing me to look away; I’m taking by surprise at the pair of lips meeting my cheek, “I’ll be back.” He whispers before he is out the car.
I hold in my breath, my eyes following his movements with his gun in hand standing in front of all of them. My instincts tell me to go to him and because I know my instincts are never wrong, I get out of the car, walking to his side; I earn a glare from him, “Didn’t I say to stay in the car?”
I bite my lower lip gazing back at him, I don’t know what was showing on my face but it’s enough to have him soften and face Roman, “Matt, come back to me and I promise I won’t hurt her.” I turn my head to my father, chest heavy seeing the woman who raised me being held against her will. “No! Let her go or I’ll shoot you myself!”
He smiles—it isn’t a cold smile yet it isn’t welcoming either. He shoves her to the ground and pulls the trigger, a shout of agony leaves her as she holds onto her arm. I gasp in horror causing Neil to pull me behind him, “This is how it’s going to go. You will let me take Matt and her, in return I’ll let you live.” Neil says in a sinister tone that brings shivers down my spine.
My father’s smile turns into a grin and raises his gun again aiming on her head this time, “Matt, just run! Get away from him! Just take him and leave! Forget about me!” Before I can say anything another bullet leaves the muzzle of his gun. My heart stops when I see she isn’t moving.
She is laying on the ground. She isn’t moving. I don’t know if she’s breathing.
“Mom!” I try to get to her but Neil’s arms are wrapped around my torsos keeping me from reaching her. I struggle against his grasp, “Matt, stop it! She’s dead! We have to get out of here.”
“No! I can’t…I can’t leave her like this.” I fight the tears threatening to grab a hold of me as I manage to escape from his arms making my way to her only I freeze on the spot when I hear another gunshot. At first I expected pain, any trace of it hitting me but I realize it isn’t when something drops heavily behind me.
My heart thrashes in my chest, slowly turning around. No. No. this can’t be real. This…this is not real. This is a dream. This is a nightmare, it has to be. There’s no way Neil is…No. My legs move before I make them to, dropping beside Neil.
The first thing I notice is the bullet wound on his back, “N-Neil…” The weapon drops from my hold as shaking hands reach out to the muscular hitman. I shove his shoulder expecting him to move or make a sound of pain but nothing happens. I don’t know why, I can’t react, I’m just here sitting beside me refusing to believe he’s dead.
I shove him again, his skin meeting my own hitching my breath when I feel how it’s becoming cold. “No…No…No…” A sob rakes through me, I check his neck to see for a pulse. I wait. And wait. And wait. But there’s nothing. “You can’t be dead! You…You said…you promised!” My voice breaks, apparition blurred by the tears running down my cheeks as I hover over his body and nuzzle my face into his hair.
“You said you’d take me with you. You said you would take me far away…” It turns to a mere whisper allowing the hands to wrench me away from Neil’s body. I don’t want this to be real, I don’t want to believe Neil is dead, I don’t want to believe the woman who raised me is dead too.
I realized I’m being cradled into someone’s chest as I stare at Neil’s corpse being pulled off the ground, “It’s okay, Matty. Everything is going to be okay. If you had listened to me, this wouldn’t have happened. Let’s get you back inside.” Alec’s voice taunts my ears, feeling his lips press against my temple.
Neil is dead.
My mother…my aunt is dead too.
I felt a part of me die with them and I can’t get away from him. I can’t get away from this monster. He ripped away the two most important people in my life because he knew he can and I can’t do anything about it. What is there to do when they’re both dead?
________________________________
VOTE
COMMENT
SHARE
[text_hash] => 02d6607c
)