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I hated him that day, too. I did. He was my nephew as well, but he’d taken my sister from me. The only way the hatred lessened was because I realized Gareth had a piece of Veronica in him, that perhaps the darkness that resided within me had skipped Veronica and surfaced within Gareth. Could I truly blame him for something he had no control over?
And so, Gareth became my life. Everything I did was for him. I became his guardian, inherited the Montgomery fortune and all of my sister’s real estate holdings in Eastcreek. I used some of the wealth to continue purchasing the town. Everyone who owed me would owe Gareth; I wasn’t stupid. I knew Gareth would slip up again. He would, because as much as I tried to instill in him the values that kept me going, what kept me from getting caught, he wasn’t like me.
Gareth was angry. So very angry, all the time. At any given moment, he was seconds from snapping. Truly, the only time he wasn’t angry was when he was painting, and that’s why I had the pool house built. It fronted as a pool house, but would double for his studio, where he could paint with whatever he wanted.
Blood. My nephew liked to paint with blood.
I did everything I could for him. I tried my hardest to pull him out of his perpetual anger and help him… but it was like talking to a wall. Nothing I said could get Gareth to calm down. He was always seconds from erupting, and when he erupted, someone ended up dead. It was a good thing blackmail was as easy to get in Eastcreek as it was anywhere else. That, and paying people off the old-fashioned way.
As the years went by, I lost track of how many people Gareth killed, and I didn’t keep track of how many people I killed. We did our own thing, and the only time Gareth wanted my help was with a body.
It got to a point where I had to stop and wonder if it was worth it. Gareth never tried coming after me the same way he’d killed Veronica, but I couldn’t help but think I was on borrowed time. Not that taking me down would be like killing my sister; I was much more capable and able-bodied than she’d been, but when someone was tenacious, well, it was only a matter of time.
And if I was gone, who would be left to take care of him? He was the last Montgomery. I’d never wanted to date, nor had I even had time the past few years.
It was when Gareth turned seventeen that I began to look for a different solution. Like me, Gareth had never really dated. His only interest was in his art—and blood. If I could find someone around his age, someone who could possibly handle him and his peculiarities…
I didn’t know how to go about finding someone, though. A girl to match him. A girl that could challenge him and belong to him at the same time. Maybe it was a foolish thought, but I had to try. I was out of options.
As luck would have it, Rick sent me a profile of someone in the big city, someone who’d gotten caught with multiple tapes involving the abuse of children, but he’d gotten off on a faulty warrant. Someone hadn’t signed in the right place, and just like that, a criminal was let go.
I went to the city after doing some research. I stalked my target, learned his routine. He liked going to the park on the weekend and watching children play with their families and each other. He sat beneath a tree, on the grass, pretending to read a book when in reality his eyes were on the grassy field before him and the families on it.
I sat on a bench nearby, on the main walkway, also pretending to read a book, though I was staring at him. I had no idea how long he’d be here, but I’d wait however long it took until I caught him alone, in a place where I could grab him without being seen.
It was happenstance that I saw her. Or, really, pure happenstance that she chose a bench across from me. I didn’t know her name then, but it was Brianna Dent. Her hair was long and dyed multiple colors, and she wore all black even though it was a warm, sunny day. She looked to be around Gareth’s age, but I couldn’t be certain.
She was alone on her bench, and she set her bag down beside her, pulling out a sketchpad. I couldn’t believe it, and as I watched her start to draw, I still couldn’t believe it. What were the odds I’d be debating on finding someone for Gareth, and on my next hunt, I happened to stumble across a girl who liked to be alone and draw?
She didn’t look at me. Her head was bent for a long time, her hand furiously moving along her sketchpad. It looked as though she kept glancing at her other hand and then back to the drawing. Every so often, I flicked my eyes over to my target, but in the end, my gaze always returned to the girl.
She was pretty. Pretty and she liked art. It was almost too much to hope for that she could be the one.
I pulled out my phone and took an inconspicuous picture of her. I needed to find out who she was. It’d probably be impossible to find someone who could help control Gareth, but the hope was there.
Or, at least, at the time, I’d thought it was hope. Hope for Gareth, not for me.
After a long while of drawing, the girl stopped and sat back, leaning her spine against the back support of the bench. She set her pencil down, and she stared at nothing in particular. Behind my sunglasses, I watched the change. It was like she went from Picasso to dead inside, like the world around her had ceased to exist.
She sat like that for a long time. Forty minutes, maybe an hour. And when she was done, she snapped out of it, looked down at her sketchpad, and made a face. Her hand jerked as she tore the page out of the pad, crumpling it up. She stuffed the sketchpad back into her bag, slung her bag around her shoulder, and stood up.
I watched as she marched over to the nearest trash can and tossed her recent sketch inside. She started to walk away, and I didn’t hesitate. Even though I wasn’t here for her, even though I already had my target in sight, I couldn’t stop myself. It was like something else took over.
I walked to the trash can, bending over it and peering inside. I spotted the crumpled paper instantly, and after tossing a quick look around, I bent inside to retrieve it. Unfolding it and flattening it against my book, I saw a quick sketch of a skeletal hand, the bones almost perfectly drawn.
Huh.
Keeping the drawing, I folded it and tucked it into my book before turning and walking quickly after her. To my delight, she didn’t take a taxi. She walked to what must’ve been her home—an apartment building nestled between much taller buildings.
The girl disappeared inside, slipping in through the front door, and I rushed to catch it with my foot, since I didn’t have a FOB to get in.I followed her, pulling my baseball cap down a bit and adjusting my glasses. Had to keep them on, even though we were inside. The last thing I wanted was for her to see me and memorize my face, just in case she did turn out to be the one Gareth needed.
Oh, Gareth would fight me tooth and nail over it, but I didn’t care. What I’d been doing clearly hadn’t worked for shit, so it was time to try something else.
She went for the elevator, hitting her floor once she got on. Her eyes, a clear, pretty gray, spotted me heading for the elevator, and she held the doors open for me. I gave her a nod and a grunt as thanks, and I saw what floor button she hit. I hit a random button above hers, and I moved to stand on the other side of the elevator, giving her space.
Didn’t want her to think I was some creep following her, even though I was.
The elevator had no music on; it was a silent ride up. When the doors slid open and she got out, she didn’t even toss me a glance. I let the doors start to close, but then I placed my foot between them, and the doors hit my foot and then opened back up. Slowly, I stuck my head out of the elevator, glancing both ways down the hall, and by some sheer dumb luck, I saw the girl disappear into an apartment.
