unForgivable (An inCapable World Novel Book 2)
Page 21
“You’re not that person. You never have been, no matter how tough you try to be,” he whispers in my ear. “But you needed to see for yourself to really believe it.”
“I’m sorry,” I cry. “I thought I could. I really did.”
“I know, Beth.”
“Now what do we do?” I ask, as I wrap my arms around myself.
“I have an idea,” says a female voice, drawing my eyes to the front door as Jocelyn saunters inside, in her alligator skin heels. Bet the bitch skinned one herself, I think as I sneer at her.
She’s in a red dress and it’s the color of blood. It perfectly matches her freshly applied makeup. I don’t even know how she manages to keep her makeup on in this heat. Or why she’d put lipstick on right before our reunion. She has her priorities straight, I guess. Her image and appearance being number one.
Damien grabs my arm and steps in front of me to shield me. But I don’t need his protection. I still have the pliers in my hand and I can use it to gouge out her cold, black eyes. I couldn’t kill Sunny or Trent, but her? I don’t know. I might just find the strength for that.
Evil bitch.
“Put the gun down, Damien,” she says. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
He lowers his weapon. Jocelyn isn’t holding anything but a purse, though that doesn’t make her harmless. I’m not sure if Damien recognizes this or not.
“What the hell are you doing, Mother? Just when I thought you couldn’t get any worse.”
“Oh, please. I won’t apologize for wanting my son home and safe.” She glances between her goons. “You can let them go. They won’t hurt you. I’ve paid them handsomely to bring you back without a scratch.”
“He’s not going anywhere with you,” I say, but Damien nudges me to be silent.
“This isn’t going to end the way you want,” Damien says to his mother.
“It’s going to end exactly the way I want it to.”
“Or?”
She smiles. “Damien, I will kill her. Slowly. She’s no match for me. Trust me, I’ve already had it out with her. She’s weak. Not just physically, but her mind.”
“I’ll show you weak,” I say, attempting to step around Damien but he grips my arm and blocks me. No matter how much I fight, he won’t let me go.
“I won’t let you touch her,” he says. “And you’re wrong, there’s nothing weak about her mind.”
Jocelyn scoffs at that. “What are you going to do to stop me? Kill me? Your own mother?”
“If I have to,” Damien says.
“No. You wouldn’t.” She takes a seat on the couch, by Trent. “I have that envelope. I’ve kept it to myself and I will continue to do so, but only if you come back with me. Her—on the other hand,” she points to me, “she needs to leave Sterling permanently. I don’t care where she goes, but she stays away from you. Forever. You will never be who you were meant to be with her by your side. She’s not strong enough.”
“Fuck you!” I say.
Jocelyn rolls her eyes and it’s all I can do not to lunge for her. She pulls a gun out of her purse and Damien raises his. “Don’t worry. It’s not for you.” She twists on a silencer and like a silent dart, a bullet shoots from the end to hit Trent on the side of his head. Brains and blood and bone particles splat on the wall and I cover my mouth to stop myself from screaming. She turns the gun to Sunny and a bullet darts out to land between his eyes. His head rolls back and blood drips to the floor.
“Why?” Damien asks. He sighs and his shoulders slump. It seems as if she’s draining the life from him and I want to hurt her for it.
“No one knows I’m here,” she says. “I had to kill them to protect you. I don’t want them talking when we get back to Sterling.”
“I love her, Mom.”
She laughs. “What’s love got to do with it?”
“Everything.”
“Come home with me and she’ll be safe. I’ll give you the envelope. And we’ll move on. Like we’ve done all our lives. You and me. It was always that way until you joined the army! Don’t you see?”
Damien sighs and looks out the window. “So you’re telling me that you never told Frankie about the names?”
She nods, pulling out the envelope from her bag and tossing it onto the coffee table. Damien takes a few steps forward, still keeping me close at his back. He opens the envelope and pulls the sheet out. Satisfied, he nods and puts it back down. “Beth’s safe?”
“Yes. And she’ll stay that way.”
What is he doing? He can’t be serious. He can’t actually be considering this? She’ll turn on him! Ruin him! I grip his shoulder and force him to look at me. “No, Damien. You can’t. She’s poison and I can’t handle the thought of her influence on you. I won’t give you up.”
He tips his head down until his forehead meets mine. “I won’t give you up either,” he whispers. “You mean everything to me.”
I touch my lips to his and feel them tremble. It tears me up to see him so torn. I want to do something to make his hurt go away, but I have no idea what that something is. “I love you,” I say, hoping my words give him comfort. “More than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything.”
“I know. I love you, too. And I’ll do anything to keep you safe. Anything.” He lets out a sigh before pulling away.
Then, without warning, he raises his gun and fires.
We’re on the ocean in Guy’s boat, three bodies wrapped in tarp on the deck. I stare at them, glad they’re all dead, but sad for Damien because I know what killing his mother is doing to him.
It will haunt him for the rest of his life, and he did it for me. The weight of that decision affects us both. For him, for obvious reasons and for me, because I also feel responsible. And I know one day he may come to resent me for it.
It’s inevitable.
He ties bricks to Sunny’s feet and rolls him off the edge of the deck. The body enters with a splash, water shooting up to wash over the edge of the deck and the tips of my toes. I take a step back and fold my hands over my chest. Damien does the same to Trent now, pushing him into the water with his foot. He saves his mother for last, staring down at her through the clear plastic.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, touching his shoulder.
He bends down and closes his eyes, says a prayer, and then pushes her off. He keeps his eyes on the blue-green water as she sinks, her image first clear and then suddenly cloudy. He keeps staring in the same spot long after she’s disappeared. I have no idea what to say or to do, except to reach out and intertwine his hand with mine.
“She never would have stopped,” he says. “She said she’d leave you alone, but I could tell from the way she wouldn’t look me in the eyes, she wouldn’t have been true to her word. She’s killed people for less—a lot less. She would always have seen you as the girl who took me away from her and she would have made you suffer for it.”
“I wish I’d done it, so you don’t have to feel this guilt.”
He scoffs. “Guilt? I’m not sure that’s what I feel.” He sighs. “She killed my dad, you know?”
“What?”
“I was five and she thinks I don’t remember, but I do. He was cheating on her. I know because he introduced his girlfriend to me one time. He told me he was leaving my mother for her and taking me with him. When I told her, she just snapped. She told me to go to my room and I heard yelling, first in the house and then outside. When I went to my window, I saw him walking away and her runing after him. She spun him around and started hitting him over and over. Then he slapped her. I was about to run for her but I couldn’t move. It’s like my feet were glued to the carpet and I couldn’t even call out to her. He said he would make sure I never saw her again. When he turned his back again, she grabbed a rock and smashed it over his head.”
“Why didn’t you ever confront her about it?”
He smiles. “One of the reasons I fell so hard and so quick for you was because I felt like we were the same. Like you could understand me
and I could understand you because like you, I’ve always felt alone. Loved, but not really. Not the way you’re supposed to be.”
I wrap my arms around his chest and rest my head on his shoulder.
“I knew from the moment I laid eyes on you in high school.”
“Really?”
“Really,” he says.
“So what do we do now?” I ask.
“I don’t know. I love it here, but I hate pretending to be someone else.”
“So we leave.”
“Yeah. And go where?” he asks.
“I don’t care. As long as I have you, I’m home.”
He places a tender kiss on my forehead. “I would have forgiven her if she was sorry for all that she’s done. I would have let her be a part of my life still.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. But people like her and my Uncle Mickey don’t change. You either accept it and love them as they are or decide life is better off without them.”
“I don’t like either option,” he says.
“Neither did I.”
Chapter Eighteen
Damien smokes a cigar outside the pub. I can see him through the window. He’s with Henry. Henry is probably pushing sixty, so at first it seemed weird that they became such good friends, but the more I see them, I think they’re kind of perfect together. Damien is a bit of an old soul.
I sit down on a stool and kick off my shoes. The pub just closed and I can finally relax after a grueling ten-hour shift. Carrie is behind the bar. She works here now. Partly because Jocelyn got her fired and also because I trust her and enjoy having her around. She’s a hard worker so that whole business-and-friends-don’t-mix bullshit is moot. And I don’t treat her like a boss.
I have Carla for that.
Carla. What can I say about Carla? I don’t love her. But when I found out she has a business degree and she ran her grandparent’s restaurant until it burned down a few years ago, I decided to give her a chance.
She makes my life easy. And it turns out I like easy. Who knew?
The pub door opens, the bell above it jingling.
Henry and Damien make for the bar and Carrie has drinks in hand, ready to pass one off. For me, it’s a virgin Bloody Mary. Damien bends at the waist and kisses my swollen belly. Five months and I swear I look ready to burst. We didn’t even find out until two months ago, after we decided to come home.
At first I thought coming back here was a mistake, but now? As my friends surround me and laugh and carry on? I know I made the right decision. Jimmy is in jail for good now and so are the other assholes who had a hand in my aunt’s death. And Frankie forgave me for running away on his debt, because I paid him what I owed plus interest. A businessman at heart, he couldn’t deny the fact that keeping me alive is more profitable than killing me.
Mickey is still missing.
One day his body might turn up, but for now, I play dumb when the cops come by to bother me and Damien.
Life isn’t perfect in Sterling. But I have everything I want and more on the way.
And as Damien kisses my forehead and showers my face with kisses I know that I’d repeat the last seven months of my life again and again if it meant I would end up just like this.
Crazy in love with the one guy who proved me wrong.
About the Author
Sara Hubbard is a bestselling author of romantic fiction. Her debut novel BLOOD, SHE READ released fall 2012 and was a NEORWA Cleveland Rocks winner and a RCRW Duel on the Delta finalist. Her latest novels, Beautiful and Broken and The Last Shot, are Amazon Bestselling Novels.
Sara lives in Nova Scotia, Canada with her two children (four if you count her husband and her needy Labradoodle) and works as a registered nurse with the military.
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Also by Sara Hubbard
Contemporary Novels
Beautiful and Broken: A Beautiful & Broken World Novel, #1
A Perfect Mess: A Beautiful & Broken World Novel, #2 (coming soon)
Saving Sullivan
inCapable
The Last Shot
Fantasy Novels
Blood, She Read
By Force
By Choice