Her Last Breath

by Hilary Davidson

“He was a creep, but I don’t think anything violent happened between them back then.” He was quiet for a moment. “You wondered the same thing about your mother.”

  That was true, but my father and I had never talked about it. “I don’t understand how she could forgive you. I thought she’d leave you, but she never did.”

  “I don’t understand why she didn’t leave me either,” he said. “I was a mess. I didn’t deserve her.”

  “Why did you hit her?” That was something I’d always wanted to understand.

  “I’ve spent a long time asking myself the same thing,” he said. “When I first went to therapy, it was all about controlling anger. Count to thirty, breathe deep, focus your mind on something else, that kind of thing. But that was like a bandage over the problem. The issue wasn’t the anger. It was that I felt entitled to an outlet for my anger.”

  His words resonated with me on a deep level. We’d never talked like this to each other. Maybe it helped that we could look at the road and not each other.

  “How do you know you’ve changed?” I asked.

  “I hope I have,” he said. “I meet with a group every week. I don’t drink anymore, or go to bars, so no more bar fights. The last few years with your mother were really good, but she was sick, so that changed our dynamic. I wonder if I ever got involved with another woman what would happen. Part of me is too afraid to find out.”

  It had been almost four years since my mom had died. I hadn’t realized my father was living as solitary an existence as I was. Part of it was that I didn’t trust other people, but I didn’t trust myself either. Hookups I could handle. Relationships were terrifying.

  “If someone hurts me, I want to kill them,” I admitted.

  “That’s because you’re like me.” He sighed. “I used to hate my father. He was the cause of so much misery in the lives of people I loved. I dreamed of killing him.”

  “He beat your mother?” I’d never heard this story before.

  “He did. And me, and my brother.”

  “Did you ever take him on?”

  “When I was seventeen,” my father said. “I tackled him, and he beat the hell out of me. Then he threw me out of the house.”

  It was twisted of me, but I laughed so hard at that tears came to my eyes. The similarities between my father and me had always been clear, even when I wanted to deny them.

  “Yeah, you enjoy stories about me getting my arse kicked,” he commented.

  “I didn’t mean it that way . . .”

  “When you came at me with that knife, that was the thing that changed me,” he said. “I know you thought it was because you nicked my liver and I got sepsis. But it was the realization I’d turned into my father. That was the hardest truth I ever faced.”

  He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. We were off the highway now, on a scenic country road, passing elegant nineteenth-century houses with gingerbread gables and turrets. It was tough to make out numbers and signs in the dark.

  “I need to slow down,” he said. “I remember the house was completely hidden from the road. It’s on a large patch of land with a creek at the back. The house was a bungalow with a large addition—a sidesplit, I guess. There’s a screened-in porch at the back.”

  “Great recall, but you said it’s completely hidden from the road. Do you remember any signs?”

  “There was one for a restaurant,” he said. “A big white board. There was a house across the road, on a much higher parcel of land. They had a couple of barky dogs and an electric fence.”

  “I’ll keep my eyes peeled.”

  We kept driving, Theo on our tail. We passed a house on the right that was elevated high above the road.

  “Stop,” I said. “I didn’t see the driveway, but this could be the right area.”

  We drove into a turnoff on the right. Theo followed. We all got out of our cars. The house on the hill had its lights blazing. A pair of huskies watched us from a broad window. One of them yowled, and the other joined in.

  “That’s the house,” my father said, pointing to the opposite side of the road.

  When I looked carefully, I could make out the openings for a semicircular driveway in between the thick tree line.

  “You’re the only one who’s been to the house,” Theo said to my father. “How should we do this?”

  “The back porch would be the easiest way to get inside,” my father said.

  “I’ll head back there,” Theo said. “I’ll signal you if I need a distraction at the front.”

  “The house has a strange layout,” my father answered. “The staircase up is hidden. The door to the cellar’s in an odd place. I need to go in myself.”

  “Then we’ll go in, and Deirdre can drive up if we need a distraction,” Theo said.

  “This seems like a bad time to tell you I don’t know how to drive,” I admitted.

  There was a moment of silence for their dead plan.

  “I’ll circle back to the porch with my father,” I said. “I’ll text you if we need a distraction at the front, okay?”

  Theo nodded.

  “Let us get a head start,” my father said. “I don’t want to get too close to the house until we’re behind it.”

  We crossed the road and sidled along the edge of the property. It was quiet, except for the sound of crickets chirping. I was limping in the boot they’d given me at the hospital.

  There was no way of knowing how much security Ben had. My hope was that he hadn’t outfitted the place with booby traps.

  “Do you think Ursula is with them?” I whispered.

  “I hope so,” my father answered. “She might be drunk, but she loves Teddy.”

  Behind the house was an expansive yard that sloped down to the creek. On the other side of the water was a golf course, but no one was playing in the dark.

  As we crept toward the house, I saw movement inside and heard the crash of Teddy’s steps. He was running.

  “Ice cream!” he called out, delighted.

  I could hear a man’s voice, but it was indistinct.

  My father moved to the screened-in porch, which allowed him to see into the living room. I took the window that peered into the kitchen. Teddy was sitting at the table, greedily devouring a pint of ice cream. “This is my favorite,” he said.

  I gestured to my father that we’d found our quarry. I tried the kitchen door, but it had a pair of solid locks on it. My father shook his head silently. He went back to the porch, pulled a box cutter out of his pocket, and slashed the mesh. He unlocked that door and padded up the steps.

  “Where’s Mama?” Teddy asked Ben.

  “She wants to be with you more than anything,” Ben said. It was a different voice than I’d ever heard come out of his mouth. Kinder, warmer. “But we’ve got each other, so that’s pretty great, right?”

  “Sure,” Teddy said. “Where did Ammy go?”

  “She stayed in New York,” Ben said. “But she sent you with me because she loves you.”

  It was deeply weird, watching Ben act like a caring parental figure. I wasn’t even sure he was pretending. The man who tried to kill me a few hours earlier had a gentle, fuzzy side.

  We watched in silent surprise.

  “We need to get you ready for bed,” Ben said.

  “I forgot my toothbrush,” Teddy noted.

  “That’s okay. I got one for you. Let’s go upstairs.”

  They retreated from the kitchen, and Ben turned out the light.

  I texted Villaverde that we’d found Teddy with Ben. I didn’t have an address to give him, just general coordinates. It was awkward to type with my damaged wrist, yet preferable to letting my father handle anything tech related.

  “What’s that sound?” my father asked.

  “What?”

  I kept typing. A heartbeat later, my father shoved me to the ground as a gunshot rang out.

  “I can hear you,” Ben called, his voice no longer sweet. “Come out wherever you are.”

&n
bsp; NOW, I texted Theo. A moment later, I heard his car roar into the driveway.

  “What the hell?” Ben muttered. Footsteps clattered away.

  “Wait here,” my father whispered.

  “Where are you going?”

  He vanished, and I cursed myself for not being able to chase after him. I could hear shouting at the front of the house and Teddy screaming. Then there was another gunshot.

  CHAPTER 45

  THEO

  Years ago, I’d paid good money for people to abuse me at fetish clubs. Knives were sharp, but nothing had ever cut into me with the precision of a gunshot that pierced my side. It didn’t even hurt at first. As I tumbled to the ground, I saw the stars shining above me, and I heard footfalls.

  I’d rushed out of the car when I heard Teddy scream, but then I’d heard his voice. “Grandpa!” Teddy said. “What are you doing here?” His clear, delighted tone came to my ears like the sweetest music. My boy was safe.

  The man who’d shot me dragged me into the house. My blood left a trail on the pale wood planks. He shoved me through an open door, and I tumbled down a splintery staircase, falling into a heap at the bottom. I was lying on cool, damp earth, and the smell of it filled my head.

  A light went on, a dim bulb on a wire hanging from the ceiling.

  “How did you find us?”

  “You must be Ben,” I said. “What a way to meet.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m the man your wife was actually in love with.”

  “You don’t seem lovable,” I observed. “You abducted my son. You tried to kill my sister-in-law. And you killed my wife.”

  He sank his foot into my ribs—the side without the wound.

  “I’ve always hated you, Theodore Thraxton. From the moment I first heard your name.”

  “It’s Theo,” I said.

  “You’re the reason Caroline is dead,” he spat.

  “From what I heard, you shoved her and she fell and hit her head. That makes you her killer.”

  “You don’t have a clue.” He kicked me again. “You showed up at the house and terrified her. It was your fault she wanted to get away immediately. This is all on you.”

  I laughed, even though it hurt.

  “What’s so funny?” he demanded.

  “There’s nothing worse than a man who won’t take responsibility for his actions,” I said. “That’s the story of my father. Everything he does—every evil thing—he blames on other people. It’s always their fault. No one loves a man like that. Caroline might’ve been willing to use you, but she was never going anywhere with you.”

  Ben’s face loomed above mine. “We’ll see how philosophical you feel after I’m done with you,” he rasped. “I spent years writing about the worst people in the world. I’m going to use what I learned on you.”

  CHAPTER 46

  DEIRDRE

  Teddy was safe. That was the most important thing. But Theo was in danger, and I didn’t know how to help him, especially in my mashed-up state. I called the police as soon as we got to the road. My father led Teddy across to his car, and I hobbled after them, out of my nephew’s earshot. Teddy got in the back seat, and I clambered in after him while my father reclaimed the driver’s seat.

  “What’s going on?” Teddy asked. “Where’s Daddy?”

  “He went to the house to rescue you,” I said.

  “From Ben?” Teddy looked perplexed. “I had ice cream.”

  Whatever Ben had done to him, it didn’t seem to have fazed Teddy. For that, I was grateful.

  “Did the police say how long it would be?” my father asked me.

  “Fifteen to twenty minutes.”

  My father turned around to look at the house. “I should go back in.”

  “Don’t,” I said. “I thought all he had was a Taser. I was wrong.”

  I texted a quick group message to Reagan and Jude and Gloria, who were back at Theo’s house. Teddy safe. Theo in danger.

  “What happened to your wrist, Auntie Dee?” asked Teddy.

  “I hurt it on a window.”

  “Ouch,” Teddy said. “Kiss.” He leaned forward and planted a gentle smack on my bandage. “All better.”

  “Wow, it feels better now,” I said, and I meant it.

  As I was speaking, a couple of dark SUVs pulled up in front of the house. Several large men in black T-shirts and cargo pants piled out of the vehicles.

  My father’s head swiveled around. “I thought you said—”

  “That’s not the police,” I answered. It was a clear night, but tough to see details. “That looks more like a SWAT team.”

  I stared at them as they conferred.

  “Let me see what’s going on.” I kissed the top of Teddy’s head. “I’ll be right back.”

  I got out of the car and crossed the road again.

  “Hey!” I called.

  A big, bald-headed guy turned around. I’d seen him before, but I couldn’t remember his name.

  “Theo’s in the house,” I said. “I think he’s been shot.”

  “Have you seen the boy?”

  “Teddy? He’s safe,” I said. “He’s with my father.”

  “Where?”

  “In that car.” I pointed across the road.

  “Gentlemen,” the man called out. “Stand down. Put away your guns. The boy is safe.”

  The five men in black reacted immediately, stashing their weapons as quickly as they’d retrieved them.

  “But Theo’s been shot,” I said. “He was dragged inside the house. Ben is a psycho. He killed my sister. He tried to kill me. He’s going to murder Theo.”

  “Mr. Thraxton couldn’t care less about what happens to Theo,” the hulking man said. “As long as Teddy is safe.”

  He marched across the road and to my father’s car, me trailing in his wake. I tried phoning Theodore, but no one answered.

  “How did you get here so quickly?” I asked.

  “There are tracking devices in all of Mr. Thraxton’s vehicles,” he said. He opened the back door of the car. “Hello, Teddy.”

  “Hi, Harris,” Teddy said, clearly unenthusiastic. “Where’s Daddy?”

  “I’m going to take you home, Teddy,” Harris said. “To your grandpa.”

  “His grandpa’s right here,” my father said.

  Harris ignored him. “Come on, Teddy.”

  I didn’t want him to take Teddy, but I knew that was selfish. We were sitting ducks out there, and Ben was armed. “It’s best if you go home right now, Teddy,” I said. “But I promise we’ll see you soon.”

  My nephew reluctantly slid out of the seat. “I want to see Daddy,” he said.

  “Your grandpa will let you play with the trains,” Harris said. “There will be cookies and ice cream.”

  “I want Daddy,” Teddy answered decisively.

  “You have to help Theo,” I said to Harris. “You can’t leave him in that house.”

  “I have my orders,” Harris said. “We’re only here for the boy. Theo can rot.”

  He lifted Teddy and carried him off. I started after him, but my father touched my shoulder.

  “We need to let Teddy go with them. It’s the safest thing for him,” he said. “Now we have to do what we can to help Theo.”

  CHAPTER 47

  THEO

  “When you think about it, Caroline ended her own life,” Ben said, cuffing my hands together in front of me. “By making too many bad decisions.”

  “You killed Caroline because she wouldn’t run away with you.” I was grateful Deirdre had given me the outline of the story already. I was in no small amount of pain, but it was clear that listening to Ben’s version of the story would be intolerable. I was inoculated against anything he claimed.

  He kicked me again, then dragged me farther into the cellar. He attached something to the cords that bound my wrists.

  “You smug bastard.” Ben pushed a button, and my wrists jerked upward. In the dark, I hadn’t seen that I was chained to a pulley attached to a be
am running along the ceiling. It lifted me to my feet, then went farther, raising me until I was off the ground completely, dangling from my arms.

  “I see. Now you’re going to torture me.” I sounded jaded, even to my own ears. “That’s your masterly plan? Should I beg you not to hurt me?”

  “I will show you fear in a handful of dust,” Ben said.

  “If you’re going to quote T. S. Eliot, why not start at the beginning of the poem? It’s more impressive. ‘April is the cruelest month, breeding . . .’”

  Ben punched me in the solar plexus. “Quote more poetry, asshole.”

  “The police are going to find you,” I said as soon as I got enough breath back. “Why don’t you run while you can?”

  “You ruined everything. I would’ve been a better father to Teddy than you ever could’ve been. Now, I don’t care what happens. Caroline’s dead. What does it matter?” He picked up a metal box. “But first, we have some business to take care of. I’m going to make you wish you’d never been born.”

  He pushed the button again, pulling my shackled hands into the air a little higher, then dropping me suddenly. My arms rattled in their sockets. It felt as if they were about to be pulled from my torso.

  “How does it feel to be completely powerless?” he asked.

  “I’ve had worse days.”

  “You’re the reason Caroline is dead. If she’d left you for me, she’d still be alive.” Ben looked me over. “She didn’t give a damn about you.”

  “You can’t blame me for her death,” I said. “You’ll have to live with the guilt of that for the rest of your life.”

  He pulled a black plastic object out of his pocket and took aim at me. As the hooks sank into my skin, I realized it was a Taser. The electricity that flooded through me was like a fire. It crackled through my brain, forcing my eyes wide and making me gasp.

  “Admit it. Caroline never loved you. She was only with you for your money. Caroline was a climber. She used you as a stepping-stone,” he taunted.

  I didn’t answer. He charged up the device again. The pain was overpowering, almost magnificent. Fire raged through my body again. I’d been here before, so many times, so many years ago. It was the oblivion I’d always craved. It was the reason I’d been with Mirelle and the reason I’d wasted endless nights in awful places and the reason I’d poured dangerous substances into my body. In the darkness was perfect stillness.