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“You tried to have me killed at sixteen! You locked me away in a damn asylum for half a year, thinking I was crazy! To say we don’t see eye to eye is a severe understatement.”
Peter leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I never wanted you. You were a mistake that I should have discarded.”
“Why didn’t you!” I snap, once again tugging on the ties. “Just do it now and get it over with.”
He stands from his chair and shuffles closer to me, his eyes flying over my shoulder. “Oh, I am. This day that should have happened a long time ago. You have done nothing but bring shame on my name, and to make it worse.” He pauses, unbuttoning his shirt. I already know that this is it. I’m going to die by the hands that should have protected me. “I didn’t need you after all. I could have killed you a long time ago. You were always like this, Isa. Rebellious. Destructive and toxic. I’m just glad you never bled those parts of yourself onto your sister, which by the way, have you heard from her?” His lips kick up in an ugly snarl. “Of course you haven’t, because not even she wants to know you. You’re disposable, Isa. Bryant moving onto Stacey only further proves that.”
I don’t react. It takes all of my will to not retort, but I don’t. I’m used to it. Peter has always been a master with his words, a skill that very few own. Only he uses it for bad, not good. “Just do it. Why am I still fucking alive! What, you can’t do it? You’re going to make one of your bum boys do the dirty deed for you? See, that’s the difference between you and Bryant, Father, is that he won’t utilize his power to end your life, he’ll use his bare hands for straight-up pleasure. I hate you.”
“Oh, I’m merely not wasting my energy on you. Don’t flatter yourself.” His eyes once again go over my shoulder.
“So why did you take me?” I snap. I should want to give up on everything. On Peter, Devon, Bryant. If I didn’t have something to live for, I would die for nothing. But I do. I have something to fight for.
“Because.” Peter leans forward again, reaching into his pocket and bringing his hands up to gesture to someone behind me. “You were a mere distraction. Ever wonder if your husband is even still alive, Isa?” A large man dressed in black with a ski mask covering his face appears beside me.
Peter nods his head, his eyes coming back to me. “Goodbye, Isa.” He stands and makes his way to the door, reaching for the handle. He pauses. “The only thing you gave me in life, is hate.” He slams the door behind himself and I blink through the tears.
I always knew the reason to him hating me so much came from his sheer obsession with perfection. I was the antonym of everything he stood for, I would never be able to exist in his dictionary. Humans can be as evil as any demon, as ugly as any entity. The human race is not exempt from evil. Evil lives within the soul, and Peter S. Johnson is one of the worst.
I bring my eyes up to the black statue standing in front of me. He leans down, pulling out a knife from his back pocket. He’s wearing black jeans, a black hoodie under a leather jacket and a black beanie over the ski mask. His hands are also covered in leather strapped gloves. There’s not an inch of flesh visible.
“I will make this easy for you.”
He leans down and I squeeze my eyes closed. Tears drip over my face and fall down the front of my chest. They say that in the final moments before your death, that your life flashes before your eyes. If that was true, then I lived a life of regret. The apologies that I owe Bryant lay heavy on my chest, and if I don’t at least spew them out now, I know for a fact that they’ll be weighing my casket down. Providing I get a casket. Depending on where or what this person does to me.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper out the words through my strained throat. I swallow, but it stings. The emotional turmoil wreaking havoc inside me physically fucking stings.
“Who are you talking to?” the statue asks, leaning forward. His voice is robotic. He’s using a voice enhancer.
I don’t open my eyes. I don’t owe him an explanation or an answer. I just need to make my peace. I need to make my peace even though I will never see Bryant again.
“I’m sorry I failed you. I’m sorry that you fell in love with a girl who was so brutally broken that she could never love you back the way that you deserved to be loved. You were a monster and a very bad man, but you loved me with everything that you had to give. I’m sorry you couldn’t fix me. They say love conquers all, but it couldn’t stand against my demons. I’m sorry I wasn’t pretty enough, even though you always made me feel like the most beautiful girl in the room, but it didn’t matter, because I was broken. I was never going to be sophisticated or savvy enough for you either. I’m sorry I was a mess, that I was just another mistake that came barreling into your life.” My voice cracks. “I wish I could see you one more time so I could tell you the biggest thing I’m sorry for…” Pain digs its long claws into my chest and rips me wide open, spilling my secrets all over the ground. A sob chokes the words as they leave my lips. “I’m sorry that your daughter is still alive and that I kept her from you.”
