Rey’s pace slowed a little.
Of course, her freedom had come at a terrible price. Not the deaths of the scum who abused their families, they deserved it, but at the incarceration of her best friend. Jiji had sacrificed everything. She was now likely locked up in a padded room, men with clipboards staring at her forever. A footnote in a clinical journal somewhere. Perhaps her own wiki page: The King Kubb Killer. A monster they had concocted, sampling the methodology of other killers and infused with their knowledge of forensics to create the perfect scapegoat, all to hide the murder of Rey’s father. Yes, both of them could have tried to get away—but open cases were the worst. With the murders pinned on Jiji, it was open and shut. A done deal. No loose ends.
Rey’s heart weighed heavy in her chest, threatening to fall through her body and smack the pavement. She wondered if it would be crimson, full of love like the greeting card companies would have people believe, or black like tar.
It has to be red now, Rey told herself.
What had been the point of all of this otherwise?
As Rey turned the last corner and into her street, she pulled the earbuds from her pocket and pushed them into place. With ease, she accessed her music app and found the exact song she wanted. This was the final song, the one that had started it all and would finish it. The song she’d heard at four years old in her kitchen as her dad had beaten her mother over the head.
“The Land of Make Believe” by Bucks Fizz.
A stupid song by all accounts. A supposedly happy, bouncy tune for children to sing along to. The words meant to reflect a time when a child’s imagination gave them freedom and happiness. But these lyrics didn’t make Rey feel free or safe. The words had always been menacing. Singing of something horrible in the garden, stalking the child, waiting patiently until it could have their heart. The child had to run, always be running.
The lyrics sent a shiver down her spine. The feeling of never being safe. Of being small and helpless against a monster who would always find you. There was no escape. Joe had always found them. Rey’s thoughts turned to her mother, again. She would never know Joe had gotten what he deserved. Her mother would be proud, wouldn’t she? Hadn’t Rey done what she never could? Taken the matter into her own hands? Freed the world of a cunt like Joe. Freed herself of demons that would otherwise haunt her forever, just like they had haunted her mother. Rey might be a killer, but now she was able to be the best mother in the world to her son. He would grow up happy and unafraid. He could grow to be the person he was supposed to be, the person Rey might have been if not for the hand she’d been dealt.
With renewed confidence in herself and the future for her family, Rey quickened her pace, the song still playing in her ears. She took a step from the pavement to cross the street to her home but froze midstride.
There in the garden—her garden—was her son. And knelt on one knee, in front of him, holding out a piece of candy was Detective Arne Huakaas. Rey’s heart convulsed in her chest, panic consuming every fiber of her being. He knew. After everything. Despite every piece of evidence pointing firmly at Jiji. He knew, and he wasn’t going to let it go. Maybe he had something on the murder of the two boys in Tøyen? Maybe she’d missed something? Why else would he be here?
Rey couldn’t hear what Huakaas was saying, but Ethan nodded enthusiastically, then took the wrapped sweet from the detective, chomping it down greedily. Her heart threatened to stop altogether, her lungs barely able to draw breath. The duffel bag in her hand felt like lead in her numbing fingers. Connor appeared from the doorway carrying a mug of something hot and passed it to Huakaas.
Oh God, no. Connor.
Had Huakaas told her husband his theories? Would Connor believe him? Did it matter? The seed of doubt was probably now sown. Her husband might never trust her with their son again, not fully. And Huakaas, he’d never let it go. Ever.
Rey stepped back onto the pavement and took one last glance at her family. Then, she pulled the hood of her jacket over her head and walked away. Away from her son. Away from her husband. To make her plan. To rid the world of the detective forever. One last hurdle to happiness.
Bucks Fizz played the final round of their chorus in her headphones, and once again their prophetic song fit Rey’s life—telling the little one to run for the sun because now they were an outlaw. Another moment in time that only a musician could mark.
Rey would make sure Arne Huakaas heard that song before he died.
About the Author
Gareth Worthington holds a degree in marine biology, a PhD in endocrinology, and currently educates the World's doctors on new cancer therapies. Gareth has hand tagged sharks in California; won in the Science Fiction Category at the 2017 London Book Festival and won honorable mention at the New York Book Festival 2012 and 2013 for his writing; and trained in various martial arts, including Jeet Kune Do, Muay Thai, and MMA at the EVOLVE MMA gym in Singapore and Phoenix KampfSport Switzerland.
Born in Plymouth UK, Worthington currently resides outside of Zurich, Switzerland.
www.GarethWorthington.com
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