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The pocket sliding doors were parted. They shouldn’t be open at all. I had gotten into the habit of securing the doors whenever I was here, and even Adam had left them closed during his tenure.
A part of me half-hoped I’d push those doors wide to find Adam Reed sitting in there fucking off. It had been weeks since we had an update from him.
Another problem for another day.
The softest of sounds came beneath the hush and scratch. That—wasn’t the player. When it came again, I shot down the hall and shoved the doors wide, gun ready.
Nothing could have prepared me for the sight of my mother, tied to a chair that was on its side, tears rolling down her face as she tried to reach Dad.
His ashen face betrayed his status. For a suspended moment, I stood there, all but forgetting how to breathe. Then Mom made that noise again, and I quickly scanned the room before pocketing the gun to go to her.
She lifted her red-rimmed, wet eyes to meet my gaze as I pulled a knife out to slice through her bonds. Her hands were so cold and she let out little twitches of pained sound.
“Jonathon…” The way she whispered his name came out so utterly broken, it threatened to crack through my resolve. The ice inside of me shifted as I helped her free of the chair. There were bruises on her wrists and ankles. More bruises on her face. A handprint on her cheek.
I was going to tear these bastards apart. They were going to be alive for every single blow and slice.
“I’m here, Mom,” I whispered, then reached over to touch my fingers to Dad’s throat. Even as she clutched me, she trembled. The lack of a pulse seemed to make mine even louder.
Suddenly her sob split through the silence and I hugged her as we sat there on the floor of Dad’s office, surrounded by the past and the cold invasion of death. While I wanted to close my eyes as I rocked Mom, I didn’t.
There was no looking away from this. Jonathon and Mary O’Connell had given me the life I craved, the life I wanted, and they’dlovedme. Loved my brother. They’d never second-guessed that choice, as far as I knew.
Not once.
And I’d brought this to their door. Mom’s tears were like a dozen razor blades slicing through me. It took time and willpower, but I had to get her up. I had to check her for injuries and she needed a doctor.
Shock was a problem.
I pulled strings with the sheriff and had my own security do a full sweep of the house. The visual security inside the house had been trashed. Electronics ripped out, hard drives taken. The internal monitoring had been off during Adam’s tenure, although I’d turned them back on after.
Whoever destroyed it knew what they were doing. There was nothing from the moment they arrived. When the ambulance came, Mom roused from her stupor and grew hysterical. She didn’t want them touching Dad, or taking him.
It took me time to settle her back down, and eventually, she agreed to a sedative. Billings sent a whole team for her. I wanted them covered on all points.
Even more, because I was going to have to leave her, and I wasn’t sure she’d forgive me.
“This looks bad,” Ezra said as he stepped inside with one of the security guys right behind him.
“It’s worse than it looks,” I told him. “Give me five to get Mom squared.”
“Yep.”
He was there, a ghost in the background as I moved. Mom took some coaxing, but I got her into a second ambulance, this one with security in attendance.
“Those men are terrible,” Mom told me. “I don’t want you to do anything, Liam… promise me.”
I would not lie to her, not about this. “I can’t do that,” I said, kissing her hand. “I will come to you as soon as I can. I need you to listen to the guys. They will make sure you are secure and keep you that way.”
She made a face.
“Mom,” I said, trying to keep my voice firm while also being kind. She deserved the kindness more than anything. “I’m sorry—I should have been here.”
“Baby,” she whispered. “I’m glad you weren’t there, and so was Jonathon. He didn’t want anything to happen to you…” Tears welled in her eyes again. “I don’t know how to do this alone.”
“You’re not alone,” I promised. “We’re going to get through this together. Will you listen to the security team? Let them make sure you’re okay. Listen to the doctors, and then you’re going on a quiet retreat for a bit—time to recover and to grieve. Then when it’s safe, we’ll bury Dad.”
The last few words clawed at my throat as I said them, and she squeezed her eyes shut as she tightened her grip on my hand. “They wanted to scare you—they wanted to hurt you and then Dad—” She let out a lost sigh. “Jonathon’s heart has been bad for a while. He didn’t want you to know.”
