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“What is so hard about keeping your mouth shut?” a deep voice growls, the utter contempt hits me like a blow to the chest. He never said this would happen, that his father would react this way.
Declan grips my hand tightly in his, knowing I’m close to losing it. You don’t hurt my people.
“Charles,” I whisper, keeping my voice low. Tears prick my eyes, but I try my best to keep the emotions out of my voice. “We’re here. Say the word and we’re coming in.”
He stays silent, almost as if he’s even holding his breath. Fuck.
He doesn’t want us to come in. Why the fuck is he having us wait? I look at the guys for answers but none of them have any for me. Motherfucker. We should have had eyes on the inside. We should have had one of us in there as backup for him.
I turn off my mic so he can’t hear our end. “We should go in,” I argue.
Declan squeezes me. “He hasn’t asked us to.” His words don’t calm me like they normally would.
I hear him apologize followed by a huff of air and faint grunt and begin cursing. If I wasn’t already going to kill this motherfucker, I would be now. I’m starting to understand why they all hate me taking the lead so much. Why they start to go crazy when I use myself as bait, or as a distraction. It fucking sucks being on this end of things. Clueless and fucking helpless.
Apologies to the guys in advance, but I refuse to ever be in this position again. The only concession I can give them is to be more understanding about why they don’t like it. That’s as generous as I can be. Never doing this waiting on the outside bullshit again.
I can hear his father begin to mumble and mutter things but can only catch every other word or so. Did he just ask Charles to tie the others up? It’s clear he wasn’t thrilled with their presence but none of us expected it to turn out this way. Anger? Yes. Confusion? Absolutely. Stealing the kills from me? Fuck no. Just what the hell is going on?
Turning my mic back on, I turn to Declan and Luca. “We need to move. He sounds deranged.” Every fucking word out of Donahue’s mouth is backing me up and I can tell from their wary glances I’m not the only one thinking it. Donahue starts talking about how he just needs to plan his next steps and I start feeling antsy.
“We need to make a decision and make one now. I don’t like the way this is headed and I think we’re hurtling towards an outcome I can’t live with.”
No one argues, but no one agrees either. It doesn’t make me feel better. Charles' breathing changes and indecisiveness wars across Luca’s face. I get it. I do. We don’t know what we’re running into. Charles knows the signal to give us to come running and he hasn’t given it. He’s had plenty of opportunities and has remained silent on purpose. None of that matters when we didn’t account for the clear mental instability Donahue is showing.
“Inside the gate but hold positions,” Luca finally decides. Charles has already cleared the way for us, keeping only his men in place. Making it truly as easy as just walking through the gates.
“You thought she was yours too,” a raspy whisper breaks through the line. Dread builds in my gut as the madman whispers to Charles. I don’t hold my position. I’m already moving up the long driveway at a full sprint. I’m making the call for all of us.
“You don’t deserve to be my heir.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“No, Charles!” I can’t help the yell that slips free as I put everything I have into running to the front door. The more I listen, the worse it gets. It doesn’t take a genius to be able to guess exactly where this is heading. Donahue has officially lost his mind to a decades-old obsession. I never would have sent Charles into this fucking hellhole if I thought for even a moment his father would ever kill him.
Footsteps pound behind me and I know the guys are right behind me. Ready to have not only my back but Charles’ as well. A beep sounds in my ear indicating Joe has turned off my mic remotely from the van. The clarity in which I can hear Charles’ sputtered breath tells me it wasn’t only mine either. It was all of ours except for his.
Just hold on, Charles. I’m almost there. I push myself harder. Each footstep rocking through my body as I put everything I have into going just a little bit faster.
“Maybe I never would have lost my little daisy.”
Tears stream down my face as the front door comes into my line of sight. Almost there. I push away the nausea listening to this man induces. I don’t have the time to be sad and repulsed by the memories that are attempting to bombard me. Something happened. I can feel it. I fucking know something happened.
Charles doesn’t sound okay. Something is fucking wrong.
I throw open the front door, not even pausing as I vault through the entryway and head straight down the hallway to where his office is located. More memories of this place try to break in, but I push those away too. Every instinct in my body is screaming to just get to Charles.
As I hurdle down the hallway, I catch a glimpse of Charles in the office, just on the inside of the doors. He’s on his knees, clutching his stomach as he looks straight ahead where his father’s desk should be. Flashbacks of my father’s office threaten to slow me down, but the resigned look on his face hurdles me forward through the pain. His eyes slowly close and I can see the moment he accepts his fate.
“Charles!” I scream as I burst through the doors, barely having a moment to process the scene in front of my eyes. His father has a gun raised, pointing in his direction. The ghost of my mother raising a gun pointed at my chest is just behind me. I’m watching my worst moments happening all over again and this time I don’t know if I’ll be able to heal.
My body is moving before I can even process the decision to do it. The gunshot explodes through the room, the sound reverberating through my skull and driving all thoughts from my head.
There’s no time to even feel relief as I crash into Charles, forcing him out of the path of the bullet as pain explodes across my chest.
I’m seventeen again, looking up at the disgust and disdain in my mother’s green eyes as she stared down at me and promised everything was going to be okay now. The bullet exploded in my chest, the coppery tang of my own blood on my tongue all I could taste. The smoke started to burn through my lungs as the heat got closer and closer to my skin. A plea for death the only thought left in my mind.
My body falls on top of Charles and blood coats both of us. The haze of memories clears, jarring me back into my painful reality. A cough wracks my body as pandemonium explodes all above and around us.
