He smashed a finger to the phone, disconnecting the call, and when that wasn’t enough for him, he smashed the phone itself onto the ceramic tile of their floor, right beside Jared’s head. Once. Twice. When it cracked, the sound shot right through him.
And then he was alone with a murderer. Truly alone.
Slowly, Andrew smiled down at him, his lips stretching like they might peel back from his face. It was a death’s head grin. Maybe it was his failing vision or even his concussion, but it seemed like Andrew had become something less than human.
“You want to know the truth before you die?” he asked. “You can take it to your grave. My mother saw me come in that night, all bloody. I enjoyed telling her what I’d done. For us. And still she covered for him. Finding the car, driving it to the train station, cleaning up the evidence.”
“Did my father know?”
“Screw your father! He started all this. One way or another it was all his fault. I don’t know what my bitch mother told him or what he knew, but he did this to my family and yours.”
He’d had enough talking. Andrew grabbed Jared by the hair, ready to slam his head into the floor again. Like he’d done with the phone. Once. Twice. Until he cracked.
Twenty-Eight
Jared looked for his moment. He could not leave Andrew free to terrorize Emily and Aaliyah. He’d failed to protect his mother; he was damn sure not going to fail them.
The sound of sirens suddenly split the night.
Andrew’s hold on Jared’s hair loosened in shock over the sirens, and Jared jumped on the opportunity to rip his head out of Andrew’s hands and roll to the side, kicking hard as he went but catching Andrew only a glancing blow.
Andrew leapt to his feet. The whites of his eyes had gone red, like he’d popped blood vessels in his overblown anger. He looked between Jared and the door as though to decide whether to finish him off or run. Jared wasn’t giving him that chance. This was going to end. Now.
Jared kicked out again for the knee he’d cracked before, but Andrew jumped out of the way, roaring like he was more beast than man. Jared used the distance for the chance to roll to his feet, but his vision swam and his stomach rebelled like he was going to lose it all over the floor. He swayed on his knees, fighting back the wave of nausea that wanted to take his sight and his consciousness with it. Definite concussion.
His vision cleared just in time to see Andrew reaching behind his back, fumbling for something he had tucked away. The snick of the blade opening gave it away even before he saw it slashing toward him.
Knife! Jared dove to the side, vision and stomach twisting again, but Andrew caught him by the leg with one hand and buried the knife in his thigh with the other. Jared howled, pinned in place by the pain that exploded over him.
There was pounding now at the front door, a demand to open up, but Jared’s whole world had narrowed to pain and fear. He knew there was some artery in the leg that could bleed out in moments. If Andrew had hit it—
Andrew left the knife buried in his leg and turned for the back of the house and the sliding glass door to escape as a crack split the front door, probably thinking he’d already killed his only witness. It was just a matter of time, and Jared wasn’t sure how much he had.
But he was going to make it count. Andrew was not getting away.
It took everything he had to gather his legs under him and lunge after Andrew. He had the advantage of no longer being concerned about himself, and when he flew into a tackle, it was with everything he had. He caught Andrew around the knees, and they both came crashing down to the floor together. Andrew tried to catch himself on his hands, but they slid out from under him, and he cracked his chin hard on the sharp tile. It stunned him for half a second, but then he was flailing, thrashing, bucking, and kicking to get Jared off of him. Jared hung on as though his life depended on it.
The police crashed through the door a second later, demanding they stop right where they were.
Jared had no intention of doing anything else. He held onto Andrew until the police insisted he let go, which he did with the relief of fading strength. He heard someone call for an ambulance, watched as they cuffed Andrew, and then let his eyes close against the pain … until he heard someone shout from outside, sounding frantic, “Is he okay? Just tell me he’s okay!”
Aaliyah.
Outside, an officer tried to ma’am her, tell her to stay back, and he smiled, knowing how that would go. Maybe they could keep her back, but they’d tell her what she wanted to know first. She’d make sure of it.
“I’m okay!” he shouted from inside, hoping she’d hear him before things got heated.
“You’ve lost a lot of blood,” one of the police officers said, squatting beside him. They hadn’t cuffed him. Was it because they knew he was the good guy or because he was too hurt to be a threat? And wasn’t that the same thing they’d said about Emily, “she’s lost a lot of blood”?
The fear crashed in on him again. “Did he hit the artery?” Jared asked, hoping he hadn’t just lied to Aaliyah. Or to Emily when he’d said he wouldn’t leave her.
“I’m no medic,” he said, “but I don’t think so. Not enough blood. Although, I don’t know what will happen when they remove the knife.” He was putting pressure above the wound, using his hands like a tourniquet.
“Can I see her?” he asked, meaning Aaliyah. If he wasn’t going to make it …
The officer shook his head. “This is a crime scene. I’m sure you’ll pass her when the paramedics get you to the ambulance. Want to tell me what happened here?”
“Andrew killed my mother. His mother is the one who hurt my sister, framing her for his crimes. I didn’t know. I was coming to talk to her when he attacked me.”
“Do you have proof?”
“How about a confession? My girlfriend—the one you won’t let me see—” as if there was anyone else, “has it all recorded.” Well, right up until the end.
The officer’s mouth fell open in shock, and he called out to one of the other officers to get that recording. “Just hang on,” he said to Jared.
There were other sirens now. Close. Jared hoped they’d put him in the same wing as Emily.
Then the paramedics arrived and started working on his leg, and his only wish was that he’d pass out.
Twenty-Nine
Emily
Emily came awake slowly, by degrees, floating finally just below the surface. She could open her eyes, complete the process. But then she’d have to face everything. Her father. Carla. The truth.
Someone coughed, and she became suddenly very aware she wasn’t alone in the room. Her whole body tensed, and the last safety of sleep fell away. She could only hope whoever it was hadn’t noticed. At least until she knew who was there and that she was safe.
She opened her eyelids just a slit, hoping to see her visitor before they knew she was awake. But she had only a limited view. Reluctantly, she lifted her head off the pillow and opened her eyes more fully. She had to know what she was up against. Her head pounded, and her vision tracked oddly, like her eyes and brain were out of sync and there was a delay between seeing and processing. So it took her a second to realize what she was seeing.
Jared, sitting there in a wheelchair, watching her. A smile broke out across his face as she focused in on him. “Hey, sleepyhead.”
She sagged with relief, then tensed back up almost immediately. Why was Jared in a wheelchair?
She went to ask, but her mouth was sandpaper dry, and it came out with a rasp he had to push himself closer to hear. His chair butted into her bed, rocking them both.
“Water?” she asked.
He looked around the room and wheeled himself over to a small sink. He had to leverage himself out of the chair to search the cabinet above it for cups, all while trying to hide the way his lips twisted in pain, compressing to keep from making a sound. She noticed he kept the pressure on his hands and unbandaged leg.
But she waited until he came back an
d until the room temperature water slid down her throat, soothing the dryness as it went. When she thought she could talk, she asked again and he told her. Everything.
What Andrew had done and why. What Carla had done to cover for him. The fact that the police had both in custody.
Emily closed her eyes against the onslaught of words, but it didn’t help, and memories floated up, the same ones that had cried out for her attention when she was floating away, faint from blood loss and meds. Carla holding her down, her face far too close to Emily’s own, stony and unmoved as she begged and thrashed, trying to escape. It had been no use; Carla’s strength had been ridiculous and absolute. They said women could lift cars off infants in a crisis. Apparently, that wasn’t all they could do. It was horrifying, the things Carla had done to protect her son when no one, not even their father, had done anything to protect them.…
“Did Dad know?” Emily asked, opening her eyes so that she could see Jared’s face when he answered, gauge his sincerity.
“Did Dad know what?”
Emily and Jared both looked to the doorway where Dad stood, highlighted by the brighter light of the hallway. She tensed up again. For some reason, one of her arms came up defensively, only to be pulled up short by an IV tube that had gotten wrapped around the protective bedrail.
Jared turned his chair awkwardly to face his father, pushing off Emily’s bed with one hand and spinning a wheel with the other.
He was only half turned away from her as he glared up at their father, so she could see the fire in his eyes, the granite set of his jaw. “Did you know that Mom was dead? That Andrew had killed her? That she was killed because of you? Did you know that Carla would do anything to protect him, even kill your own daughter?”
“Emily isn’t dead,” he said, stepping into the room, starting to close the door behind him.
“Don’t!” It burst out of Emily with no time to analyze. But now that it was out, she realized that she did not want them to be alone with their father. Ever again. Things would never be the same. Shouldn’t be the same. She’d always tried to keep the peace, smooth things over, but it had only covered for their problems. There was no peace to be found when Dad carried the war with him.
Her father froze, the door half closed behind him. Emily didn’t want to take her eyes off of him to free her IV tube, to find the nurse call button she knew had to be somewhere close by.
“Did you know?” she repeated, glaring up at him. She hoped she looked strong like Jared. What she felt was so much more complicated than plain fear. There was burning anger. And hate. She didn’t want to hate her father, but she did. It was there. Building to a boil.
“I expected this from Jared, but not from you. Bug-bear—”
He hadn’t called her that since she was little, and the sound of it now made her skin crawl. It felt wrong. Manipulative. Dirty.
“Don’t,” she said again. More controlled this time. Completely in control, as though whatever power he’d held over her had shattered. “I’m asking. And you’re going to answer. You owe us that.”
Dad jerked his head back like she’d struck him. Was it so shocking that she was standing up to him? Had she been that docile? Well, no more. The fact that she’d tensed up at his appearance meant his threat still loomed over them, and she was done with threats. She supposed almost dying would do that to a person.
“Not at first,” he said quietly. Begrudgingly. “I really thought she’d gone. It wasn’t until they found the blood in her car at the train station. There was no reason to take a train when she had the car. And the blood …” He hung his head.
“You hurt her,” she said, mercilessly. “Why wouldn’t there be blood?”
His head snapped up, and he looked like he was trying to keep his face neutral and failing. A muscle twitched along his jaw.
“We can talk about all of this at home,” he said. “They’re releasing you both today. I’m thinking we grab pizza and ice cream on the way. I’ve picked up a couple of new movies just out on Blu-ray, and—”
“No.” Emily and Jared both said at once.
Jared glanced over his shoulder at her, and their eyes met. For once they understood each other perfectly. He nodded at what he saw and turned back around.
“I told you, we’re done,” Jared said, speaking for both of them. “We’re not going home with you. Not now. Not ever.”
“It’s not your place to decide. You’re under eighteen. Until then …”
“Not going to happen,” Jared said.
Her father dismissed Jared by a flick of the wrist and a quick turning away. He now looked at Emily. Just Emily, like she was the only one in the room. Dad didn’t focus in often, but when he did he had that ability to make you feel like you were really seen. Special. Loved. She felt like those were the moments she’d spent her life fighting for. It hurt now, a blow to her chest, but not quite strong enough to break her heart. She was done letting him hurt her that way. Hurt them.
“Bug-bear, it’s over. Let me make it up to you. I’m so sorry about all of this. You have no idea.”
“What about Mom? Are you sorry about Mom too?”
She held her hand up to stop him. She didn’t really want an answer. It would only be a lie. “Never mind, I won’t believe you. I’m with Jared. We’re not coming back. We’ll go to Aunt Aggie. We’ll go to Child Protective Services if we have to. We’ll fight you tooth and nail. If Andrew and Carla’s trials don’t bring out your dirty laundry, we’ll make sure it gets aired. But believe me when I say we are not coming back.”
Her father’s jaw had dropped, and he looked so stunned she could almost pity him. Almost.
She got her hand free and found the button beside it to call for the nurse to show her father out.
Epilogue
A few weeks later
“Thank you for helping,” Aunt Aggie said to Aaliyah. “Moving goes so much faster with four people, even if Jared keeps stopping for kisses and crap.”
Jared glared. “Aaliyah saved my life. I think she’s entitled to a few kisses.”
“She also let you go through with your harebrained scheme. I’d call that a push.”
Aunt Aggie didn’t cut anybody slack about anything. It was one of the things he loved and hated about her, depending on whether he was the one on the receiving end. But she liked Aaliyah, and Aaliyah liked the straightforward approach.
“Wait until his next harebrained idea. You get to try stopping him,” Aaliyah said.
His aunt laughed. “Challenge accepted.”
He smiled at their banter, but it quickly vanished. Mom was gone. They were only moving because they could no longer live with their father and Aunt Aggie didn’t have the room at her place for two kids. They’d tried it for a bit while her custody was temporary, pending confirmation, but now they were off to a new place. A new start.
Old pains were coming along for the ride. The torment of every moment he’d fought with Mom, the sharper pain of the good memories that made him miss her so much. Hiking with her at Bear Mountain State Park, the ice cream fight he and Emily had gotten into afterward that Mom didn’t even scold them for, even though they got her car all sticky.…
Mom’s funeral had been the worst, but they’d gotten through it. He’d even given a eulogy and managed to say everything he’d meant to say to her when she was alive. He wasn’t sure anyone could understand him toward the end, when the tears fell thick and ugly, but that didn’t stop him. He felt wrung out afterward, but better. Like maybe she’d even heard him. And forgiven. He still didn’t know what he believed, but he hoped there was a heaven and that she was in it. She deserved to be there. Mom had never wanted to hurt anyone, not even the man who’d hurt her.
“You okay?” Emily asked.
He’d stopped, apparently, in the middle of the hall, and she needed him to move out of her way.
“Yeah,” he said, stepping aside. “You?”
“Getting there,” she answered.
She l
ooked good. Still pale, but not bloodless. The bandages had come off her wrists, but she still wore long sleeves to cover the scars. Maybe always would. Therapy was helping with the rest, though. For both of them. Jared still worried about becoming like Dad, but not so much anymore. When he’d had Andrew down, he could have kept pounding him. The way his father might have. The way Andrew had done to Mom, bashing out his anger, but he hadn’t. What had gotten him up and moving even after he’d been stabbed was the thought of something happening to others—to Emily and Aaliyah. People he loved. He was his father’s son, but he was also his mother’s. He was going to focus on that part of himself.
So yeah, getting there. It was the best they could do right now. Healing was a work in progress. Some days were better than others. Today …
“Pizza later?” he heard Aaliyah ask his aunt.
“Of course, it’s a moving tradition. Pizza and beer. Well, in your case, soda. My treat.”
Today was one of the good days.
Acknowledgments
There are so many people I have to thank for setting me on the right track or keeping me going with this book. No book is easy, but the important ones fight the hardest, and it was very important to me to get this one right. If I’ve succeeded, it’s because of amazing people like retired NYPD Investigator G. Anthony Luhs, who answered a bazillion questions for me (any mistakes are likely due to questions I failed to ask), and fellow authors Amber Hart, who made an especially sharp observation that changed the whole trajectory of the book, and Amy Christine Parker, long-time friend and critique partner, whose feedback has always been invaluable. I want to thank my cousins Heather Boswell and Angela Diver Clark, who read this when I had doubts and insisted on reading more so that I had to write it for them.
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