Wednesday (Timeless Series #3)

by E. L. Todd

  I didn’t put him in his place because it wouldn’t get me anywhere. I needed to keep him calm, not escalate the fight. “Then explain it to me. I want to listen.” It was hard to believe that we were madly in love and happy just a few days ago. Now that felt like another lifetime.

  “I don’t give a shit what you want. I want you to leave—and not come back.” He shoved me aside with his massive arm so he could get to the door. The push wasn’t hard but he would never do something like that if he was himself.

  “Whoa, hold on.” Axel rose to his feet, his patience non-existent. “She’s trying to be there for you and that’s how you treat her? I don’t care what happened to you, Hawke. No one talks to my sister like that.”

  I appreciated that defense but it would just make things worse. “Axel, take Marie and meet me in the lobby.”

  Hawke breathed hard and stared Axel down, like he might rip his head from his shoulders.

  Axel didn’t move.

  “Please.” I understood Hawke better than he did. I could talk him off the ledge.

  Axel took Marie’s hand and walked away.

  When they were gone, I turned back to Hawke. “It’s just me.” I kept my voice gentle, hoping that would coax him out of his rampage.

  “Is that supposed to mean something to me?” His voice was ice-cold. “Frankie, I just want to be alone. I didn’t ask you to come down here. I don’t want to look at you or talk about how I feel. All I want is solitude.”

  Watching him brush me off so coldly stung. He should run to me, not away from me. But his emotional state put him on a completely different level. He wasn’t the man I knew. “Then let me be alone with you.”

  He got the door open but didn’t let me walk over the threshold. “Go back to where you came from.” He walked inside and let the door shut behind him.

  I caught it before it could close and let myself in, uninvited.

  Hawke turned around and glared at me. “You want to get killed?”

  “You wouldn’t hurt me.” I knew he was a different person at the moment but that didn’t change anything. The man I loved was still in there. He wouldn’t raise a hand to me no matter how upset he was. The only damage he would ever do would be from his words.

  “You’re sure about that?” He turned and faced me head-on. “My father and I aren’t any different. We have the same name, the same appearance, and we have the same unbridled temper.” He closed the gap between us and looked down at me with ferocity in his eyes. “I’ll break your neck and put you in the ground. Leave before it’s too late.”

  I took a step closer to him. “You aren’t your father.” I tilted my head slightly and exposed my neck to him. “I’m calling your bluff, Hawke.”

  “You shouldn’t.”

  I stared down at him without blinking. “You protect people, not hurt them. And you’re the greatest man I’ve ever known. You wouldn’t hurt anyone. And you certainly wouldn’t murder anyone.”

  “Yeah?” He reached behind his back and withdrew a pistol. “You really think so?” He waved it in front of me.

  The sight of the gun made my heart race but I still wasn’t scared. “Then shoot me.”

  He clenched his jaw and stared me down, irritated he wasn’t getting his way.

  I grabbed the barrel and pointed it at my chest. “That’s the only way you’re getting rid of me.”

  Like I suspected, he quickly pulled the gun away and stepped back, terrified that it was ever pointed at me to begin with. He shoved it into the back of his jeans. “Please leave.” Now his voice came out calm, like he accepted defeat.

  “No.”

  “Then be quiet.” He pulled his shirt off and undressed. He put the safety on the gun and set it on the dresser.

  I stood there and watched.

  “I’m going to sleep. Let yourself out.” He got under the covers then turned off the lamp.

  I stood there for a few moments before I undressed and got into bed beside him. When my body hit the mattress, he turned over and faced the opposite direction, closing himself off from me all over again. I didn’t kill his mother but he was treating me like I did. “I’m so sorry about your mom, Hawke.” I ran my hand up his back.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  I pulled my hand away and held it to my chest.

  After a long pause, he spoke. “The police think it was an accident. She fell down the stairs and crashed into the dresser. When I corrected them, they didn’t believe me. My father is off the hook—just like that.”

  I held on to every word and tried not to make a sound.

  “She lost so much blood she went into cardiac arrest and died.”

  I closed my eyes as the pain washed over me.

  “And that asshole walks free.”

  It wasn’t right.

  “So, I’m going to do what the justice system won’t. I’ll take care of it myself—and stand by and watch him die.”

  I knew he was upset and heartbroken. No one could blame him for that. But this wasn’t the answer. “You have every right to be angry, Hawke. But killing him isn’t the answer.”

  “Yes, it is. But I should have done it a long time ago. She might still be here.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “It is my fault,” he said coldly. “I knew this day would come, but I didn’t stop it.”

  “You did everything you could—”

  “It wasn’t enough. I’m putting a bullet in his brain the second he shows his face. I don’t care if I go to jail for the rest of my life. It’s worth it.”

  “Hawke, you don’t want to carry that on your shoulders for the rest of your life. You aren’t a killer.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “It won’t change anything. It won’t bring her back.”

  “No. But at least it’ll give me a smile.” He kept his back to me and never turned over. He kept the entire world between us, making sure I couldn’t infect his space.

  He was too far gone to be helped. I didn’t know what to do. Normally, he looked me in the eye but I couldn’t even get him to do that. Of all people, I could always bring him back from the brink of insanity.

  But now I had no power at all.

  Getting Away With Murder

  Hawke

  I slid out of the bed without waking Francesca. She would try to impede my plans, and I didn’t have time for that. All I wanted was for her to disappear, to go back to New York and leave me in peace.

  I got dressed then shoved the pistol into the back of my jeans. Hopefully, my father had returned to the house by now. He had to make an appearance eventually, especially for the funeral.

  He couldn’t hide forever.

  I knew he was terrified of me. He knew exactly what was coming. After the way I broke his nose and jaw at the hospital, he knew I would do something far worse now.

  The fact he took off amused me.

  Because he was scared.

  I wanted to scare him as much as possible, to give him the greatest dose of anxiety just before I killed him. For my entire life. I had to walk on eggshells around the house, unsure what would set him off. My mom had to do the same, waiting on him hand and foot just to make sure he didn’t turn to scotch.

  Payback’s a bitch, ain’t it?

  I grabbed my keys and headed to the door.

  Francesca blocked the path, standing in her bra and underwear. The sight used to turn me on, but now I didn’t feel anything. She was just an obstacle in my way, a problem I wanted to remove. “Hawke, don’t do this.”

  “Get out of the way.”

  “You’re angry right now, as you should be. But this isn’t the answer.”

  “Get out of my way or I’ll make you.” I stepped closer to her, threatening her with my entire body.

  “Then you’re going to have to make me because I’m not moving.” She stood her ground, hiding all the fear bottled deep inside her.

  “You think he deserves to live?” Nothing would piss me off more. My mother
didn’t deserve to die, and he certainly didn’t deserve to live. How was that fair?

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “It sounds like it.”

  “He’ll get what’s coming to him, Hawke. You don’t need to pull the trigger.”

  “But I deserve to.” I should have killed him a long time ago.

  “I promise you, you’ll get satisfaction the moment you take his life. But every moment after that will bring you nothing but guilt and grief. Your mother wouldn’t want you to do this, Hawke.”

  Those were the only words she said that got to me. My mother wouldn’t want me to take his life. She would still protect him out of love if she could, even if she knew he would kill her one day. I didn’t call that love. I called that stupid. “I’m doing this no matter what you say. So just move out of the way.”

  She didn’t take a single step. “Right now, you should focus on your grief. Take care of the funeral arrangements. Prepare to say goodbye. Don’t waste your time on someone who isn’t worth your attention.”

  When my mind was set, I never changed it. I was going to do this whether she liked it or not. Nothing could rob me of my revenge. I would put this guy in the ground once and for all. “Move.”

  “No.”

  “Now.”

  “No.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Fine.” I kneeled down and threw my body into her legs, forcing her to flip over my shoulder. I held her in the air then turned around and placed her on the bed.

  She fought me the entire way. “Hawke, no.” She grabbed on to me, wrapping her legs around my waist so I couldn’t get away. “Don’t do this. I’m not letting you do this.”

  I twisted from her grasp and held her down with one hand. “Knock it off.”

  “You knock it off.” She kicked me.

  I pinned both of her hands above her head. “Don’t make me hurt you.”

  “You never would.”

  “Yes, I would. Don’t doubt me on that.” I left the bed and headed to the door.

  She charged me from behind then jumped on me. “No. I’m not letting you make the biggest mistake of your life.”

  I headed back to the bed and pulled her off me. “The biggest mistake of my life was letting him live in the first place.” I shoved her onto the bed again. “Do I have to tie you up? Because I will.”

  “If you leave, I’m calling the cops.”

  That was a bad threat to make. “Well, you better do it fast. Because I don’t need much time.” I pulled away and darted out of the room before she could grab me again. Nothing was going to stop me from doing this. My pistol was loaded and ready to fire.

  Now I just needed a target.

  ***

  When I pulled up to the front of the house, his truck was outside.

  It’s show time.

  I parked right outside and didn’t bother hiding my truck. If he was watching, I wanted him to know I was coming for him.

  I wanted him to know his time was up.

  The side gate was always unlocked so I took that route. I headed around the side of the house until I reached the back. The window was always loose, so I stuck my hand inside and unlocked the back door. Then I grabbed my gun and moved inside.

  The living room was exactly the same as the last time I saw it. He probably just stopped by to grab a few things, assuming he would be in and out quick enough for me not to notice him.

  I rested my gun by my side and listened to the sounds of the house. The floorboards creaked upstairs from his heavy footsteps. He was in the bedroom, probably gathering some last minute things. He intended to run and I doubted he planned on attending the funeral.

  His footsteps were heard across the ceiling until they reached the stairway. Some of the floorboards creaked under his weight as he moved down. When he reached the last stair, he appeared in the entryway, a suitcase in his hand.

  He was definitely taking off.

  I stood absolutely still, waiting for him to notice me. He was determined to get out as fast as possible so he didn’t pay attention to anything around him.

  He fished his keys out of his pocket.

  “Going somewhere?”

  He jumped into the air and dropped his keys on the floor. They fell with a loud thud, echoing inside the small house.

  I lifted my gun and waved with it.

  He wasn’t the scary man I remembered. He immediately recoiled in stark fear, his wide eyes giving him away. He was far more afraid of me than I ever was of him. Over the past few years, his stomach had grown, extending far past his waistline from all the liquor he consumed over the years. It bulged far out, his pants barely able to fit around his waist. He still had a full head of hair, and his eyes were identical to mine. While we looked similar, I didn’t notice those characteristics. I only saw a monster.

  He didn’t speak. His hand clutched his chest and he breathed hard, like he was about to have a panic attack. He stepped back, like the extra distant would protect him from a flying bullet.

  I pointed the gun straight at his head and closed the gap between us. I rested the end of the barrel right between his eyes and gave him a genuine smile. “I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time.”

  He trembled underneath me, practically pissing his pants. For a bully, he was the biggest coward I’d ever seen.

  I didn’t mention Mom because there was no need to. He didn’t bother denying it, knowing I would figure it out. He raised both hands in the air and started to plead for his life. “I’m sorry…”

  “Did Mom say that before you killed her? Did you give her mercy?”

  He continued to shake, unable to stand still.

  “I won’t grant mercy to someone who doesn’t give it.” I cocked the gun.

  “Please don’t.” Tears bubbled in his eyes.

  I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy this.

  “I…” He flinched slightly then gripped his chest. He took a deep breath but didn’t seem to get enough air. Then he fell back on the floor, convulsing as if he was having a seizure.

  I lowered the gun.

  His eyes remained wide and open, but eventually they became lifeless. His hand still covered his heart, and he started to foam at the mouth.

  He was having a heart attack.

  I should have called 9-1-1 but I didn’t reach for the phone. I stood over him and watched him die, seeing him suffer in his last moments of life. Francesca was right when she said I didn’t have to pull the trigger. If I did, I would be a murderer. But to stand by and refuse to help him just made me negligent.

  When his body finally stopped moving and his eyes glazed over from death’s presence, I knew he was really gone. I kneeled down and examined him, seeing the foam drip from his mouth. I’d fantasized about this moment for so long, but I didn’t feel the way I assumed I would. There was no joy or the ecstasy of sweet revenge.

  I felt nothing.

  ***

  My mind was in a daze all the way back to my hotel room. I couldn’t get the picture of him out of my head, lying there like a worthless excuse for a human being. The sight of the gun made him panic and induced a heart attack.

  How pathetic was that?

  It was a death worthy of a coward, and was better than taking a bullet right between the eyes. Now that he was gone, I expected to feel free, like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. But nothing had changed. I was exactly the same man.

  My mom was still gone. Nothing would bring her back or give her the life she deserved. If only I did that sooner, Mom would have lived out the rest of her life. The regret was killing me inside.

  When I walked into my room, I’d forgotten about Francesca. My mind was in a whirlwind of emotions.

  She was sitting on the bed, and she jumped up the moment I walked inside. Instead of looking scared, she seemed relieved I returned. She didn’t ask if I killed him. All she did was stare.

  “Why are you still here?”

  She rose from the bed, her arms
across her chest.

  Why wouldn’t she just leave me alone? “Just go.”

  “Why are you pushing me away?”

  “Because I want to be alone,” I snapped. “I already said that.”

  “I understand you’re in pain right now, but let me carry it with you. We’re a team, Hawke. Don’t carry this by yourself.”

  “I want to carry it by myself.” I tossed the gun on the table then sat in the chair beside it. “I’m sick of listening to you talk. My mom just died and all you care about is yourself. You want me to pay attention to you and kiss the ground you walk on. Get over yourself.”

  She didn’t move from her spot on the floor. “No, not at all. I just don’t want you to alienate yourself from everyone because you assume you don’t deserve our love and support. How many times do I have to tell you that you aren’t your father? There’re only so many ways I can say it.”

  I held my hands together and stared at the floor. “He’s dead.” I was indifferent to the revelation.

  “What? How?”

  I looked up at her with narrowed eyes. “What do you mean how?” I went over there with a gun. What did she think happened?

  “I know you didn’t kill him so what happened?”

  How did she know that? Did she follow me? It just pissed me off that she knew me so well. “What makes you so certain I didn’t put a bullet in his head?”

  “Because I know you, Hawke. You wouldn’t do that.”

  I eyed the gun on the table and felt the suspicion cloud over. I snatched it then opened the barrel.

  There were no bullets.

  “You took them out when I was sleeping.” I should have known she would pull a stunt like this.

  “I knew you wouldn’t need them.”

  I threw the gun on the floor. “You have a lot of nerve.”

  “I was protecting you from yourself.”

  “If you knew I wasn’t going to kill him, why did you take the bullets?” I knew I had her there.

  “Accidents happen. What if he grabbed the gun and shot you instead?”

  I wanted to scream. “Get the hell out of my room. I’m sick of talking to you and looking at you. Just go.”

  “I’m not leaving.” She sat at the edge of the bed. “You aren’t alone in this no matter how much you want to be.”