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“I need to think,” he says in a hushed voice. “Tie them up,” he instructs me, pulling long lengths of rope from the desk. Don’t even want to know why that’s in there. He comes closer to hand me the rope and I don’t recognize the gleam in his eyes.
He’s always been sadistic. A cold, unfeeling bastard. Thriving on the pain and destruction he causes. But this is different. It isn't just his evil inner desires coming to the surface and breaking his businessman mask. No, it’s far more sinister than even that. He looks completely unhinged.
His pupils are blown and I can see the vein in his neck pulsing. He lifts the gun from where he’s holding it at his side and lifts it first to Schroder. I climb to my feet and follow his cues, moving first to Bernard who sits frozen, shell-shocked at the sudden turn of events. Schroder doesn't take it silently though, raising his voice as he screams for answers from my father. It won’t get him far, but that’s the least of my worries.
Tying Bernard is easier than it should be. The man must truly be in a state of shock. I’m more sure than ever that what he did to Scar was an isolated incident. At least as far as working with my father. There’s no doubt he’s a sick and twisted bastard. He’s probably taken advantage of countless students over the years. Used his position and authority to get away with heinous acts. But that night must have been a moment of opportunity, a fluke. He doesn’t have what it takes to be in the same league as my father.
Schroder fights me, but my father just laughs, making a show of clicking the safety off of the gun and pointing it at his head. “Keep fighting and I’ll just get rid of you now. You should know how this works,” he mocks and Schroder goes still. “I just need time to plan my next steps,” my father muses aloud.
Fuck, this went to hell a lot faster than anticipated. We just meant to get them all in this room, distract them enough with each other for Scar and her men to move in. It was just meant for them to take control quickly. How did it deteriorate so quickly?
I should have checked the damn desk for weapons. Why didn’t I?
I push Schroder to the ground after tying him up the same way as Bernard and turn my attention to my father. He’s already giving me a sinister smile, but not an approving one. He keeps his gun in his hands but moves it to his left before pulling out a blade with his right.
“You thought she was yours too,” he whispers, walking up to me. I back up several steps until I’m close to the office doors. Just to the left of the open doors and I can see down the hallway. He uses the gun to motion me to stay put. My hands shake and I lock them behind my back. “I can always make a new heir,” he says absentmindedly. A creepy smile twists his lips up. “An heir with her.” He steps up to me, tracing the blade against my cheek and shivers go down my spine but I keep my hands locked behind my back and my lips sealed shut.
Any fight would make this moment worse. He has the upperhand and he knows it. In order to avoid his suspicion I left myself far too open. Should have known better but my focus wasn’t entirely on myself.
The tip of the blade digs into the delicate skin of my cheek. Warm blood trails down my face and drips onto my neck.
“Did you think I missed the sound you made earlier?” he taunts as he pulls the blade away from my skin. “You never deserved her,” he whispers in my ear and my eyes shut against my will, trying to force him out. Wishing more than anything that she wasn’t also listening to this. “And you don’t deserve to be my heir.”
The blade slicing through my flesh is a pain unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. It sinks deep into my gut and my eyes fly open as I sputter in shock. I meet his cruel and delighted gaze as twists the blade, making my vision white out as a soft groan escapes against my will. This is far worse than what I ever had to endure as a child. He’d carve my skin, lash my back, starve and isolate me. But he never fully embedded a knife into my body. Never truly inflicted life-threatening damage. Until now. He laughs as he wrenches the knife free, pushing down on my shoulder until I fall to my knees.
I gasp as my hands press against the gaping wound in my stomach. My breath comes out in heavy pants as I hear Scar yelling my name followed by pandemonium before it all goes quiet. Too quiet. The sudden lack of noise in my head makes my head spin. Where did she go?
Adrenaline crashes into my system, making it hard to think as I stare at my father as he sits atop his desk, drinking from the glass of bourbon I had poured for myself. When did he get over there?
“None of you ever deserved her,” my father says, staring at all the three of us with disgust in his eyes. “I should have killed you both that night and taken her for myself. Would have been less messy.”
He’s fucking lost it. I’m not the only one thinking it based on the looks on Schroder and Bernard’s faces as their eyes volley between my father and me.
“Maybe I never would have lost my little daisy,” he ponders as he drains his glass. He drops his knife to the desk and lifts the gun as he waves it between the three of us.
It lands on me after several moments. “Your sins are probably the least,” he admits, “but unfortunately for you, your disappearance is also the easiest for me to cover up. The other two might take a bit more finessing.” He cackles as if he just told the funniest joke. I don’t think it’s the liquor that has gone to his head. His obsession with Scar has poisoned his already weak and evil mind.
Hot blood seeps through my fingers and I sway where I kneel on the office floor, my vision going gray and blurring at the edges. I just have to hold on a little longer. Scar wouldn’t abandon me. Though maybe she should. Just light the whole estate on fire with me in here.
It’s like my father said. My sins might be the most forgivable. It doesn’t mean I don’t deserve to burn for them.
My father lifts the gun and takes aim at my head.
“She was always meant to be mine,” he says and the world slows down. The stroke of his finger over the trigger, the bullet releasing from the chamber, the malicious glee of killing his own son.
Is this what Charlotte felt like that night?
A knife in her gut, a gun pointed at her, a bullet tearing through her flesh.
I close my eyes, resigned to my fate. A karmic justice for what happened to her because I failed to protect her.
All that’s left is to let me burn.
Chapter Thirty-One Scar
A resounding smackfills the line from Charles’ end and my stomach turns.
He wasn’t supposed to get hurt. Not like this. Just a simple distraction.
