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I shook my head. “No,Miranda.That was you. By getting her involved with this, at all. You gave her away, for the love of a man who didn’t even respect you. Your love… it was all she wanted. All she craved. And you withheld it. You turned her into a monster, and threw her to the wolves.”
“No!” Miranda screamed. “Youdid! She wanted Kellen, but he wanted you. She wanted Asher, but he wanted you. She wanted herfather… but he… after he asked me to give my baby up, and I sent her away to be with Sheila… to be loved and mothered by another woman… he had the nerve to look me in my face after he saw you on that screen, and express his regrets. Claimed he’dalways wanted a child, as if he didn’t know the “niece” I went to visit with Sheila was his flesh and blood. Hehadto. And he thought he was going to make it right with you. You were going to takehimfrom her too.”
“I hadnothingto do with the decisions of the adults who conceived me. That isnotmy fault.”
She smirked. “Oh, but… it is. The moment you rang my doorbell to disrupt my home, you traded in your innocence. You were supposed to disappear, and you didn’t. And now, because of you… my daughter is gone. You’ve taken everything from me. And that little nail polish collection, those names? You thought you were slick, huh? Taunting me with it. But I got you back tenfold, didn’t I? I’m not done with you though, Monica. If you thought these last few weeks were hell, darling… you haven’t seen anything yet.”
Thinking about it now, it baffled me thatthiswas the Miranda Cline I’d grown up admiring. Her company,Blissful Beautyhad been a force, until she married Glen Pearson, andCanvashad slowly suffocated the smaller company, eventually buying it. I still remembered being in awe of the fact that she kept her own name when she got married, at a time when it wasn’t the norm.
I’d thought it showed that she was strong, that she refused to let her marriage define her, refused to give up her identity because of who she was married to.
Now I knew the truth.
Marrying my father –lovingmy father – had consumed and destroyed her. Maybe she’d been a different woman before, but nearly four decades of hurt and anger had redefined her, into something way beyond the “bitter” label Kellen used to fling at me.
She was just flat out ruthless.
She turned to walk off, leaving me with my heart racing and my mind reeling from finally getting the answers I thought I wanted. But… it couldn’t end like this, not with her threatening to disrupt my life more than she already had.
I wasn’t about to play this game with her.
“Miranda. Miranda,wait,” I called, only to be completely ignored. I blew out a sigh, then stalked up to her, touching her shoulder to get her attention, but as soon as my hand made contact, she turned and shoved me, which sent me reeling in my stiletto heels.
Pain rang through my head as I hit the metal leg of one of the autopsy tables, and I closed my eyes for a second, hoping the sting would be short-lived. But when I opened them again, Miranda was standing over me, her face twisted with rage as she drove downward with a knife she’d pulled from somewhere in her hands.
Reflexively, I kicked her, aiming for the side of her knee instead of the front, just like Wick had taught me. She buckled to the floor, and the knife went skittering across the polished concrete, landing underneath the table. I didn’t even give it a second thought – I dove for it.
“Ahhh!” I screamed as pain shot up my leg, radiating from my ankle. I looked back to find that Miranda had gotten ahold of one my shoes, using it like some sort of dagger to strike me. I kicked at her again, getting another shot off before she could repeat that same move a second time.
I got my hand on the knife and then scrambled away from her, holding it up in warning. I hoped she would pick up on my nonverbal threat, and keep her distance, but instead, she dove at me again, fingernails bared, as if she were some sort of wild animal, so I did what I had to do.
The only thing Icoulddo.
Putting all the force behind it that I could, I shoved the knife forward, into her chest as she lunged. The penetration stopped her cold, and I let the knife go, moving away from her as she toppled forward, falling face-first onto the frigid concrete floor.
I got the hell away from her, kicking off my other shoe and moving backward to the door, keeping my eyes on her as I went. She had turned herself over, and was writhing on the floor, clutching at the knife in her chest as her mouth moved, searching for the air to produce words.
None came.
I was on ultra-high-alert, ready to take down anybody else that came at me when the autopsy attendant came back to the door, almost getting his nose broken when he caught me by surprise pulling it open. He stepped in, looking at me in my defensive stance, ready to fight, and then at Miranda, eyes wide open and lifeless on the floor.
“Oh,shit, what the fuck is this?!” he asked, then started backing away from me. “Uh… um…shit. Stay here!” he demanded, and then shot out of the room.
A few minutes later, Sam came rushing through the door, followed shortly by Wick, with his bandages hanging half off.
Sam went to Miranda, and Wick came to me, closing me up in his arms. “Are you okay?” was the first question out of his mouth. Notwhat happened,orwhat’s going on.
Was I okay?
I nodded, to answer his question, snuggling closer as I turned to look at Miranda on the floor.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m fine. It’s over.”
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