“Over your dead body,” I whispered as I pushed myself off the disgusting floor.
My head swam as I steadied myself, and it was only then I could get a good look at my surroundings. The grimy bed sheets were just the tip of the iceberg as I fully surveyed the room. A doll with something dried on its face rested on the bed, and when I turned around, I could see dresses for a girl maybe a few years older than Anna hanging in the closet.
I wanted to vomit but feared the aftermath of being sick. In my weakened state, I couldn’t give them any advantage. Not if I wanted to get back to Colton and our kids.
They were our kids, and I swore on everything I had and everything I loved, I was going to kill that fucking cunt before this was all over.
“Keep your hands off her until I can figure out what to do,” the loud voice said, and it sounded like they moved farther away from the door.
I briefly closed my eyes and waited for the nausea to pass before I slowly moved around the room, looking for anything that could be a makeshift weapon. There was no way I was going to let anyone touch me again without permission, and if my fears were correct about what I was seeing, I was going to save whatever little girl was being hurt in this room.
The smell of chemicals wafted under the door, and I recognized the odor as meth. It was the same smell Melody had in the house she kept Hailey in, so I knew whoever was out there was going to be unpredictable and potentially volatile. That shit rotted your brain, and from what I could recall about Araneta, she was strung-out five ways to Sunday.
“Let me go back and get the girl. She’ll bring a pretty penny,” a female’s voice said as I got closer to the door, and it took everything in me to not run out there and strangle her with my bare hands.
We only had one conversation, but I knew that was Araneta, and she had to be talking about Anna. How could anyone even suggest selling their own daughter? I didn’t understand it when my father did it to me, and I didn’t understand it now.
The loud bang of a slamming door echoed through the house, and I didn’t hear any more voices for a few minutes. The knock to the back of my head was killing me, and I needed a minute to compose myself. Sliding down with my back to a wall, I picked up a metal hanger from the pile of garage and unwound the hook before folding it in half and twisting it into one bigger piece of wire.
It was all I could find at that moment, but I could use it to wrap around someone’s neck, if I had the strength. Closing my eyes, I listened intently for anyone speaking or moving around, and it was then I thought I should try to escape. I didn’t know how many people were out there and if I went out without a plan or a real weapon, they would have the upper hand.
The silence and pain lulled me into a semiconscious state, and it was there I let the memory of the last person I’d killed overtake me. It was the hardest and most satisfying kill of my life, and I felt a sense of relief as I allowed the memory to pull me under.
Creeping through the darkened house, I kept my footsteps silent and my breathing shallow as I slipped from the small dining room into the main living space. The guards were on their predictable patrol schedule, so unless I alerted them to my presence, I had fifteen minutes before they made their interior sweep.
It was reckless to make a move on him when he’s under such heavy guard, but it wasn’t often he was exposed, even slightly. For years, I’d waited for the perfect opportunity to get my revenge on the bastard sleeping peacefully upstairs, and to be this close to completing my goal had excitement coursing through my veins.
I knew I shouldn’t be joyous about killing someone, but the motherfucker deserved to die for what he did, not only to me but to my entire family. He was a selfish prick who didn’t care who or what he destroyed to get what he wanted. And tonight, I was finally going to end him once and for all. I’d been close a few times, but something always disrupted my plans, forcing me to recalculate my attack.
Glancing to my side and out the window in the living room, I watched for movement before I began climbing the stairs. Even dressed in black and keeping as quiet as possible, this was the one part of my entrance I couldn’t remain hidden. I silently prayed to whatever being was watching my back that I wasn’t discovered, and after seeing no one outside, I made quick work of the dozen steps separating me from my target.
The second floor was as unremarkable as the first, and I chuckled in my head, knowing the ordinary house they were keeping him in was so far below what he considered his standards, it must’ve been driving him crazy. He always thought himself to be better than everyone around him and demanded the finest of everything. It was ironic how far the mighty had fallen, just so he could save his own ass.
Shaking my head, I continued down the hallway and stopped at the closed door at the end. This was it—my final act of defiance against the bastard who gave me life and took it away just as quickly. Feeling the familiar anger build up inside, I slowly turned the knob and opened the door. As soon as I could, I slid inside and silently closed the door behind me.
The smell of stale cigarettes and alcohol hit my nose as his loud snores filled the room, and I fought the memories that threatened to overtake me. Now wasn’t the time to let myself get dragged into the past, so I stood perfectly still and took a cleansing breath. My hands were gripped into tight fists, and I forced myself to relax.
I had one chance to get this right, and I couldn’t let my emotions screw it up. I would never get another chance. The people who guarded him didn’t do it out of loyalty. It was their job to keep him safe, so he could testify for them. Not only was he selfish, but he was willing to destroy anyone he could just to save his own ass.
When I felt the calm begin to fill me, I gripped the knife at my hip and slowly removed it from the sheath. I was comfortable with a gun, but this job called for a sharp knife and strong resolve. I also didn’t need the attention a gun would cause, so I grasped the handle firmly as I approached the bed.
His hair was grayer than I’d remembered, and his skin was leathery from too much time in the sun. He had a scruffy beard and needed a haircut. I shook my head, seeing with my own eyes how pathetic he really was. He was sleeping on his back, and for a moment, I watched the rise and fall of his chest in the moonlight cascading through the thin curtains.
I used to look up to him, believing he loved and genuinely cared about me. I didn’t know if he’d ever given a damn about any of us, but from his actions and stinging words, he could’ve cared less whether we lived or died. I learned the cold-hearted truth about him firsthand, and from that betrayal, I learned to never trust anyone. To this day, the scars of his egotistical choices were etched into my skin, a silent reminder of the pain and devastation he'd caused me.
His breathing stuttered and he emitted a loud snore. I didn’t have much time before the guards would make another sweep of the house, so I shook my head briefly to dislodge the burning memories and I approached the bed. My palms were sweating as I gripped the knife harder and stepped beside him. Feeling the edge of the mattress against my legs, I tilted my head, allowing anger and hate to build inside me. I wanted him to look into my eyes as he died, knowing it was me who sent him to hell. Leaning over silently, I placed the knife against his neck and slapped my hand over his mouth, suppressing his obnoxious snoring.
His blue eyes popped open, and I pressed the knife tighter against his neck, wordlessly demanding he keep his mouth shut. I could feel him try to pull away from me, but from this, there was no escape. A trickle of blood oozed down his neck as his eyes grew wider in the dark room. A smile pressed up on my cheeks as I watched reality dawn on him.
“Hello, Papa. Did you miss me?” I asked in a hushed whisper.
He tried to nod, but the movement caused more blood to run down his neck, so he quickly stopped moving and mumbled under my hand.
I shook my head at him and whispered, “You have nothing to say that I care to hear. I just wanted you to know who it was that sent you to hell.” He tried to speak again, but I leaned closer, whispering the final words he would ever hear. “This is for thinking you could ever use her as a bargaining chip.”
He started to mumble again, and I knew time was running out. When I felt him shift under me, I drew the blade across his throat, watching the blood pour out of him like a gushing river. He grasped at his throat as his mouth opened and closed but no words came from him as he gasped for air, fighting for the last moments of his life as they slipped away. His eyes grew even wider and he gargled into the quiet room, so I gripped the knife with both hands and raised it into the air.
With a sharp and forceful plunge, I drove the blade into his chest, silencing him for good. I observed the light dim from his haunting blue eyes, and a calming peace washed over me unlike anything I’d ever experienced. I removed the knife from his chest and wiped it on the sheets before slipping it back into its sheath.
