42

42

KADE

Before my dad was arrested, sentenced to life imprisonment and shipped to the institution to live out the rest of his days, he was an evil bastard who made my mother’s life hell just by trying to love her the right way. It was a love he couldn’t feel, so instead of giving her what she needed, he drove himself to insanity and destroyed himself, her and her life – everyone around her included.

To say he fell into obsession is an understatement. Dad didn’t want to lose her and wanted her to feel like she had a functioning boyfriend who didn’t rely on medication to survive who he is. So he did the one thing that broke him, causing a domino effect that made him spiral into someone else.

He stopped taking his medication. Stopped attending therapy. Never showed up for his support groups. He started drinking.

His obsession turned deadly.

The story ended right here, at the dog shelter I bought over not long ago and put in Barry’s name – why are we here?

Stacey stirs in my lap, and I brush my fingers through her hair as the streetlights vanish and we’re coated in darkness. “Where are we?” she asks in a rough voice.

“Somewhere safe,” I reply then look at my dad through the mirror. “I’d love to know how you knew to come here.”

“Does it matter?”

“You rose from the dead and are driving to my building,” I add, my fingers still lazily brushing through Stacey’s hair. “Yes, it matters.”

Dad shrugs and keeps driving up the path. His eyes are sunken, probably from lack of sleep or from the stress of whatever the fuck he’s been doing while pretending to be dead.

I was shocked when I saw that he was alive, but now, I’m starting to get pissed the fuck off. I mourned this motherfucker for months, and the whole time he’s been shacking it up here, sleeping in one of the new beds, using the shower room and eating from the kitchen while I was losing my fucking mind thinking he was gone.

Jason is dead, and so was my dad, and all I can feel is rage towards him when I should be thankful – when I should still be hugging him and telling him how happy I am that he’s here. I want to do that, but only deep down. I’ve watched my mother drink herself to sleep night after night because of how broken she was about his death; I can’t just forget that.

I grit my teeth and look at Stacey, who shakes her head at me. “I know what you’re thinking,” she whispers, wincing a little when she tries to move her bruised legs. “He wouldn’t have wanted to blow his cover by trying to reach out to you.”

Her voice is quiet, but I know my dad can hear her.

“Let him explain his reasoning before you turn all dickheadish.”

I snort weakly. “I don’t believe that’s a word.” But Stacey has her own vocabulary, so I guess I’ll give her that one.

I lower my hand to her thigh and caress the bruises lightly. “Where hurts?”

“It would be easier to ask where doesn’t hurt. I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus.”

“How do you know what it feels like to be hit by a bus?”

She scoffs. “I remember you said I sounded like a strangled cat when I sang and I asked you how you know what that sounds like. Copying me?”

I laugh quietly, leaning down and kissing the tip of her nose despite my face being covered in dry blood. “I have a room full of medical supplies in here. I’ll clean you up, then we’re showering and going to sleep.”

“Demanding Kade is cute,” she says with a smile.

Base tuts. “You both make me sick.”

“After what I’ve witnessed since being your friend,” I reply, “you can’t say shit.”

“Language,” Dad scolds, cutting the engine.

Luciella yawns and lifts her head from Base’s shoulder. “Where are we?”

“I think your dad is going to kill me for getting you pregnant and leave my body here.”

“I hope he does,” I add when Luciella looks confused.

He’s been staring out the window, silent, probably thinking of ways to keep my sister safe from the Russian princess and her family. I doubt he’s happy about any of this. He doesn’t like kids. He’ll be fully focused on keeping her away from his new family.

I could hide her, but I know how controlling Base is. He’ll make sure she’s safe. He even said his grandfather will help him now.

I hope he wasn’t lying.

We climb out of my dad’s stolen car, and the dogs follow behind us. I wrap my arm around the small of Stacey’s back, taking most of her weight while we walk forward.

I pause and stare at the person leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

“Why aren’t you with your pregnant wife and daughter?”

Barry pushes himself forward and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I was dragged through hell watching what that woman did to you. If you think for a second I’m going to take a back seat now, you don’t know me very well.”

I narrow my eyes. “You’re an idiot. Go home.”

Dad shoulders past Barry, and they exchange glares. My assistant doesn’t look the slightest bit shocked he’s alive.

I feel myself growing more irritated. “You knew my dad was alive?”

A short nod, and he glances at my dad. “Security at the manor was breached, so getting that information to you would have been a risk. Instead, we’ve been working here for the last two months. We finished the renovations and the system operating room. Then, when Bernadette finally surfaced, we ambushed her transfer as it was going through Glasgow. She’s been here for the last three weeks.”

My nostrils flare. “Go home to your family.”

Base pats my shoulder. “Let the kid stay.”

“Kid?” Barry sneers, raising a brow. “Did you just call me a fucking kid?”

“You look like a kid. And watch your fucking language.”

Dad takes the dogs inside with him then comes back and helps Stacey into the building while asking Luciella where her injuries are. After they vanish, I pinch the bridge of my nose as my assistant and my best friend fall into a verbal battle.

Base is smirking at Barry, and I’m too tired for this shit. I pull out my cigarettes and light one.

“I was Kade’s best friend first,” Base immaturely says, completely unfazed by the deep wound in his shoulder. “And I’ll stay his best friend.”

Barry is more than dumbfounded. “Is he serious?” he asks me.

“The kid needs to rein in his dirty mouth,” Base retorts.

“He’s not a kid; he’s married with one kid and another on the way. He’s also highly skilled in tech and combat, so I’d probably shut the fuck up if I were you. He could make your body vanish without a trace and have it look like an accident. Also, don’t try to fuck with my staff.”

“You’re defending him?” Base asks. “Over me?”

I blow out my cheeks and take a draw of my smoke.

Base narrows his eyes at my silence. “But you like me better, right?”

I hand him the cigarette and don’t give an answer as I leave them to it and head in to look for Stacey.

When I bought this place, it was a wreck. If it weren’t for the foundation and bones of the building being intact and salvageable, I would’ve torn the entire place down and started from scratch.

We’d already replaced the roof and installed a security system and satellite signallers so we could still work. But with everything that’s been going on, I thought work on this place would’ve come at a standstill; that all the labour put in would be for nothing.

But Barry wasn’t kidding when he said he’d fixed it up.

The plastered walls smell of wet paint, there are new doors, and cameras installed for extra security, and five bedrooms with supplies in case of emergency. I can see a hole in one wall already though from someone punching it. My guess is that Barry and Dad got into a fight.

The hallway is dark, the spotlights only faintly lighting the route to the medical room. I pass by the office – my mother tried to kill my dad in there over twenty years ago, but she chickened out.

I pause for a second at the last door, wondering if I should go hunt for Bernadette instead, but then I hear Stacey’s voice travelling through the door. She’s hurt. I need to see her first before facing the reason for my demons growing stronger – the reason why the voices are louder.

Stacey is sitting on a chair while my dad rummages through one of our first aid kits, and Luciella is downing a glass of water and splashing it on her face beside her. Both of them are covered in remnants of debris, their skin stained from the smoke.

I open one of the cupboards and check if Barry brought in the oxygen stock I wanted. They’ll need some to clear their lungs.

Relief fills me as I grab one and attach a nasal cannula, handing it to Luciella, who’s coughing a lot more than Stacey. She gets it into place and closes her eyes while her head drops back. “I didn’t know how bad my lungs were.”

“We all inhaled a lot of smoke. You’re pregnant, so you can use it first.”

For the first time in years, Luciella, my pain-in-the-ass twin sister, smiles at me – a proper, full-on smile. “Thank you, Kade.”

It throws me off. I nervously look around the room. “Yeah.”

“You need that closed up,” Dad says, pointing to the gash on the side of my skull.

I nod to the drawer beside him, where all the shit is for stitching up wounds. Again, for emergencies. If any of us got seriously injured, we couldn’t go to a hospital.

Barry is, to some extent, trained, but I know my dad learned a lot from my mother and from intentionally harming himself in the institution only to heal himself again using only what he could make from objects in his surroundings. That was something his therapist fought hard to help him stop. The thin scars literally covering my dad’s body are proof that his therapist had no idea how to stop him until ten years ago. He’d said the stinging helped the mental pain.

I stand silently, watching as the girls show my dad their injuries. Luciella passes the oxygen to Stacey and cries until Dad stops to cuddle her, and Stacey keeps looking at me and smiling.

She’s tired. So am I. Of everything. I could sleep for years with her and just close off the world. Soon. I’ll do that soon. I want to take her to the shower room so we can get cleaned up and go to bed.

“We don’t have anything here to check on the baby, but Barry will get us an ultrasound machine.”

Luciella nods, but then she falls apart again, and tears slide down her face. I’ve never witnessed my sister cry this much. It’s… awkward. I just stare at her. So does my dad. Then Stacey takes her hand and squeezes.

“It’s going to be okay.”

“I’m scared. I’ll be a terrible mother.”

Dad shakes his head. “You are everything your mother is, and she’s exceptional. It’s a shame who the father is though.”

Stacey takes my hand, and I sit down beside her and inspect her legs while Dad and Luciella keep talking. She’s telling him how wonderful my best friend is, and how long he waited around until she gave in. Dad scoffs a few times – he doesn’t really understand love outside of his own. Though I think he understands me and Stacey to an extent because of how much I struggled – just like he did.

“I’m still shocked as to why you let Sebastian of all people impregnate you,” Dad says, and Luciella goes red with embarrassment. “But if you’re happy, then so am I.”

“I think I am,” she says. “I only found out right before the explosion.” She places her hand protectively over her stomach, and I look at Stacey, whose eyes are shining. We used to have that. “Even if I lose Base to the Russians, I still have a part of him.”

She won’t lose Base. He’s an asshole, but he won’t walk away from his own kid. He’ll hide them and most likely himself. He’ll step up.

He and Barry are obviously still arguing outside. He’s borderline flirting. It’s like it’s built in to his personality that he can’t have a conversation without picturing the person naked, and I should know – he’s been flirting with me since we were fucking teenagers.

Once Dad picks out any debris from everyone’s wounds, I kneel between Stacey’s legs to help clean up the gashes on her skin. The bruises from where the beam trapped her are just above both knees. They’re swollen and already turning a dark shade of purple.

“Are you okay?” she asks me, and I raise a brow in confusion. “The manor. Your dad being alive. And… everything that’s been going on. It’s a lot to deal with.”

“I just need to stay focused,” I reply, wiping dry blood from her ankles. “I want to deal with Bernadette and—” I stop, breathing slowly. “I’d like to move on from all of this.”

It’s been constant since I was nineteen. I’m still on edge, and I feel like something bad’s going to happen. It always does.

“So do I, but I think we should sleep first.”

“Where is Bernadette?” I ask Dad. “I need to see her with my own eyes.”

“In the room you built for her. She’s been drugged up for twenty-two days and locked in a cage.”

I lean my elbows on my thighs, crouching in front of Stacey as I look at my dad. “A cage?”

He smirks. “You’ll see when you go downstairs.” Dad hands me a cloth for my own face. “Why did you buy this place anyway?” he asks me. “Of all the places, you buy this building.”

It holds a lot of meaning. This was where all the chaos ended nearly twenty-five years ago. There’s a little flowerbed and plaque outside for Aunt Gabriella.

“I already said it was so I had somewhere to take Archie and Bernadette when I eventually caught them. It’s in Barry’s name, so they can’t track us here.” Then I narrow my eyes at my dad. “But you already knew that, didn’t you? You’ve been hiding here while we all thought you were dead.”

Stacey places a hand on my wrist to calm me down, and I’m thankful for it. I shouldn’t be mad at my dad – I just can’t handle my emotions properly right now.

“I couldn’t risk exposing myself. Barry couldn’t either. He told you; the entire manor was bugged, and you had several rats in your team.” He shrugs. “I killed them by the way. You’re welcome.”

“What about the people who attacked the manor?”

“I caught their boss in the tunnels and cut his head off. He had long, greasy hair, so I wrapped my hand around it…” He mimics the move with a cloth then swishes his arm. “I cracked about four bodyguards’ faces in with it. Then I threw on their uniform and used the radio to track where everyone was.”

“Jesus,” Luciella blurts, screwing her face up. “I didn’t need to picture that when I feel so sick already.”

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

I blow out a breath as I sit beside Stacey and start sorting through my own wounds. Nothing extreme, but I’ve burned my arm and I have a few cuts. Plus, I’m covered in other people’s blood.

The door opens, and Base finally walks in with a bleeding lip. “Sorry, princess. I was in a football debate with the kid, and he decided to punch me. Kade, deal with your dog.”

Despite everything going on, I huff out a laugh.

Barry rolls his eyes behind him. “I’m going to call Lisa and get some sleep. Everyone else should sleep too. We’ll put together a strategy tomorrow on how to deal with Bernadette, then if all the threats are gone, we can all go home.”

Unless we count my apartment in Stirling – though it’s probably blown up as well – I have no home. I glance over at Stacey, and the thought vanishes.

Five minutes later, Base is gritting his teeth as Luciella and Dad try to fix the wound in his shoulder. There’s a bullet lodged in it, and she’s using forceps to try to pull it out carefully while Stacey wipes at the spilling blood with gauze.

I spot Dad pulling a box from under one of the units and tossing multiple tablets into his mouth, swallowing them dry. “You have your meds?”

He nods. “Barry got them for me. We didn’t want to risk… you know. I need to keep my head.”

That’s good. There’s less chance of him losing his marbles then. No one wants an unhinged Tobias Mitchell around Bernadette Sawyer. He’d kill her on the spot and ruin all the fun.

Then he’d hunt down Ewan, mutilate him and force my mum to marry him or some shit.

Dad tosses me another box, and I realise it’s full of my meds. “Barry said you’ve been doing well on those. I tried similar ones for a while when I was a teenager, but they didn’t work for me. I’m glad they work for you.”

I should mentally smash myself in the dick for not even thinking about my own medication. My therapist is going to be fuming with me. That’s if he doesn’t believe I died in the manor’s explosion along with everyone else.

“Mum is going to freak out,” I say. “She’ll be mad we didn’t bring her with us. I’ll reach out before bed and let her know we didn’t burn to death.”

“No,” Dad snaps. “No one tells Aria I’m alive. It’s better if she thinks I’m dead.”

I tilt my head. “What?”

Stacey glances at Luciella, but it’s Base who scoffs and speaks through his pain. “That’s just fucking selfish. You want her to suffer, thinking you’re still dead? I would’ve thought a psychopath like yourself would want all her attention.”

Dad glares at him. “The world will think you all burned to death in the manor, so you are also dead, Sebastian. I’m more than happy to make that permanent. Just because you’re the father of my future grandchild does not grant you immunity. If you ever talk to me like that again, I will fuck you up more than Bernadette Sawyer ever did.”

Base audibly gulps. “Fuck. You are one scary bastard.”

I sigh and shake my head. “We don’t have time for this. I’m going down to the basement.”

“Wait until you’ve slept,” Stacey says. “You can barely stand straight.”

I won’t believe it until I see her. Trapped. No longer vying for me or threatening everyone I love. I want to see the bitch in her place, incapacitated and at our disposal.

Dad throws down his sandwich in annoyance. “Follow me.”

The walk to the basement takes forever. We’re all either limping, slow from exhaustion or Dad is stopping us every minute to show off his DIY work.

It’s pitch-black in the short hallway leading through the basement. I can hear drops to my left as I hold Stacey’s hand. She’s leaning on me a little, limping, and I stroke my thumb over her hand when her hold tightens from the darkness and creaking wood.

We reach the metal door I designed, and Dad enters the code, followed by a beeping sound. The door opens, and I grimace, covering my mouth and nose at the strong smell of urine, unwashed skin and vomit.

The small light in the corner illuminates a thin Bernadette curled up into a ball inside a large animal cage sitting in the middle of the room. There are lines attached to her veins – the blush pink dress I’ve seen her wear loads of times is filthy, and she has an outgrowth of roots, dark against the wine-red hair she always had. She’s pale, make-up non-existent, no expensive jewellery cradling her body.

The sight should make me feel some sort of relief, but the anxiety about her capabilities still rides my nerves into war. She could heal, manipulate one of us, get free and target everyone. She could kill Stacey, rip the unborn baby from my sister’s womb and make sure my dad dies for real.

I let go of Stacey and inch forward. I almost don’t recognise the she-devil as she lies unconscious before us all – the woman who singlehandedly ruined my life, destroyed me in ways I can’t describe. The bitch who killed my brother.

Base comes forward too, but his reaction is totally different from mine.

He snorts out a loud laugh. “She looks like fucking Gollum in a wig.”