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I can see Jan can’t be saved. My uncle will die tonight. Even if an ambulance were to come, which I know instinctively Anton and his goons would not allow, they would not be able to help him by the time they got here. No, he is gone, and I can't stop crying. I place my hands over his chest and hold pressure there trying not to think about how my life will go from now on, how my life might as well be just as over as my uncle’s.
Through his pain and my tears, I see my uncle give me a sad half smile. “I didn't mean for things to get so complicated,” he tells me, like an apology for dying. I cry and cradle his head with my other hand. I am a strong woman. I don't cry, but this man is my family.
“We need to go,” Anton snaps at me, and I look up at him in defiance and anger. That is another reason to cry. The man I thought I was starting to build something with has turned into a monster right before my eyes.
“I agreed to listen to you after we left,” I fire back hoping my words spear him like a hot poker. “It doesn’t fucking look like we’ve left yet,” I add through gritted teeth. I turn back to my uncle, and I see his breathing is becoming jagged now. It’s a rough rattle, and his lungs are filling with blood. It won’t be long now before he is drowning in it. What a sick way to go, and I don't even know if he’s done the thing Anton accuses him of. I don't see the proof. I don't know the circumstances. I just know I am holding a dying man in my arms.
“Go, Tasha,” Jan tells me in a gurgling voice, and I shake my head in protest. That is not happening, not yet.
“I am not going to let you die alone, Jan, not after everything you have done for me. I want to thank you…for everything you have done in my life. For making me believe in myself and for protecting me when no one else was willing to or could. For making me the strong woman that I am.” I whisper the last part as the tears fall like rain from me. I am a little ashamed to cry in front of the monsters that have done this to my uncle, but he was there for me after my mother died, he was there for me when I was older and needed safety and guidance in life when my father refused to be. He has been more of a father to me then my very own.
Things with my father have always been so complicated. I always had nannies watching over me, and then I was shipped off to boarding schools when I was old enough. I didn't feel like I had parents, with one dead, and my father just not being much of a father. I was lucky to see him four times a year. But then, Jan stepped in. He let me live with him, he gave me the love and attention that I was craving. I knew he was into bad things like my father, but he was mine, and I was his. I rub the back of his head like I would a small child in comfort, and I realize what it is I have to do.
My purse has fallen off my shoulder, and I eye it there next to me, knowing I have a little bit of mercy waiting for him inside of it. I could use it on my captors too, but I won't do that. I am not a killer, and I think there may be a tiny part of me that hopes this whole thing is a big misunderstanding with Anton, that I won't have to hate him for all eternity.
I pull out my gun. It’s just a small one I keep on me for protection. It's not going to be my salvation today, but it will be for Jan. I look into his eyes and nod, so he knows what I am doing. I can see the pleading in his eyes. I aim for his head, shooting straight and true. He is dead in an instant, no more pain. It’s better than drowning in his own damned blood.
I stand up after putting my gun away in my purse, pretending not to notice that all the men in the room have their eyes on me in amazement, or possibly shock. They must not have seen that coming. Whether it was because I killed my own uncle or the fact that I had a gun, I don't know. I don't really give a damn. But I do know one thing. I have felt it a few times before, but now I know it with every part of me. I am just like my father. And maybe that will serve me well once I am taken out of the place I used to feel was home.
I see Anton's eyes, those dark pools, assessing me again as a piece of meat. He thinks he is a wolf, licking his lips about to pounce on his dinner. He hasn't got a clue about how I am not going to make this easy. There are ways I can fight this, that I can make him suffer even if I still keep our lousy agreement. It makes me sick the way he is looking at me in this dress.
I step up to him real close, making sure he sees I am not afraid to look him in the eyes. “You made me do that,” I tell him coldly, little emotion in my voice. I just want him to know, to make it clear that I have no respect and no attraction to him right now. That I blame him for this.
“Grab her purse,” he barks at the nearest goon, and I roll my eyes as it is whisked away by a man much too large to take seriously while carrying the small silver bag. There is no reason for laughing, though.
As the door opens, I don’t dare look back. I am not going to cry over my uncle anymore or over the home I am leaving behind, possibly for the last time. I am going to be strong now because I will need that strength for what is to come.
Not wanting to risk being dragged or carried, I follow Anton without a word or movement of protest. The goons flank me to be sure I won't run, but I think Anton knows I won’t. I am smarter than that, and as I get in the car, my thoughts are on Bethany and my father and what they will think of this if they ever find me.
