Descent

by Natasha Knight

  “You sick son of a fucking bitch! She was your sister. Your own fucking sister!”

  “Shit.” My father’s face is that of a ghost in my periphery as I shove one set of arms off me only to feel a fist in my kidney when I lunge toward Jonas again.

  It takes me a second to recover but all I see is red when I look at Jonas. All I see is a raging fury of red. Of blood to pay for blood. Of life to pay for life.

  Too late, though.

  She’s gone. Long gone. Dust in the earth. No amount of blood will bring her back.

  I break free and I’m going again, and I get hold of him, kneeling over him as he blinks, tries to focus his eyes, one of which is already swelling, and I get one more hit in before something hard smashes the back of my skull. I’m dazed and my arms are dragged behind my back and I’m forced into a seat, handcuffed to it.

  “Call a fucking ambulance. Fuck!” Jeremiah looks at both of us and it takes me a minute to focus, my head heavy.

  “Should I call the police too?” Maryanne asks, and I hear the shock and fear in her voice. But I don’t care about her. I don’t care about anyone or anything right now. I just need to kill that son-of-a-bitch.

  My father bends to pick up the crumpled photo. He sets it on the desk, smooths it out as Jonas rolls onto his side and pukes, then groans.

  I notice the dark stain at his crotch. He pissed himself. I’d laugh if I could. If I didn’t have murder on my mind.

  “Jesus Christ,” my father mutters and I look at him, and I swear the color drains from his face as he takes in the significance of that photo. He drops into Jonas’ seat behind the huge, modern desk, eyes wide on that damning picture.

  “Sir?” Maryanne asks.

  He looks at her, shakes his head. “No. No police.”

  She nods, obviously not agreeing with his decision but still backing out of the office to make the calls she needs.

  My father is watching me when I turn to him, his expression one of horror.

  “Did you know?” I ask.

  He pushes his hand into his hair, leans the weight of it on his elbow as he mutters the words Jesus Christ again.

  “Did you fucking know?”

  He shifts his gaze slowly up to mine and all I have to do is look at him to know the answer.

  36

  Persephone

  Twenty minutes pass and I’m still banging on the study door yelling for Anna. I don’t know where she is, if she’s even in the house. My throat is hoarse by the time I hear footsteps running toward the study and a moment later, she pushes the door open, alarm on her face.

  I didn’t think I’d ever be glad to see her.

  “Are you all right? I just came in when I heard—”

  “I’m fine. Just got locked in.” I wouldn’t be surprised if she tried to restrain me if she knew Hayden had been the one to lock me in.

  I’m about to run from the room but see my purse, turn to pick it up. I manage to drop half the contents on the study floor until I find my phone.

  Scrolling, I find Jonas’ number and push the button to call his cell. No answer, though. He’s either got it powered off or muted because it goes to voicemail right away. I hang up but try again and the second time, I leave a voicemail.

  I notice the missed calls and the messages, but I don’t have time to look at those now. I need to find Hayden before he does something he’ll regret. I rush toward the front door, grabbing my coat on my way. I step outside while sliding my arms in, the brisk air welcome.

  I fumble for my keys, cursing when I don’t find them in my purse. They must have fallen out when I was looking for my phone.

  I’m walking back to the front door when I hear a car on the driveaway. I turn to see who it is. Lizzie maybe? But they wouldn’t bring her back here. They’d take her to the club.

  My heart races as the unfamiliar car comes to a stop just a few feet from me. When I see that inside is Hayden, I breathe a sigh of relief. But when the door opens and he smiles, I realize it’s not Hayden.

  “Ares?”

  “Glad I caught you at home.”

  “Why? What are you doing here?”

  “I need you to take a ride with me.”

  “What?”

  “Come on. Get in the car.” He walks around the front of the car toward me.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

  “Is Hayden okay?” Am I already too late?

  He gives me a strange nod and opens the passenger side door. “Get in.”

  I do because I don’t know what else to do.

  He closes the door and a moment later, he’s in the driver’s seat, his focus almost entirely on the road, the smile having vanished from his face and replaced by something harder.

  “What’s going on?” I ask as he pulls out of the driveaway.

  He glances over at me. “You’ve got some influence with my brother,” he says, slowing for a traffic light, his words making no sense and something telling me I shouldn’t be here with him.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  He gives me a smile again and I think how easily he smiles.

  “Dominic Benedetti wants to meet you.”

  My throat goes dry as I remember who Dominic Benedetti is. As I recall how adamant Hayden was about me staying away from him.

  “Why?”

  “Because my brother isn’t being very smart.”

  The light turns green, but the car in front of us doesn’t move. Ares touches the horn and, without thinking, I take hold of the door handle and I’m about to open it when his hand closes over my knee just a little harder than it needs to be.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” he says.

  A moment later, traffic begins to move, and he moves with it. He shifts his gaze to the road, and I study him in profile, his expression hard. He and Hayden may be identical twins but right now, he doesn’t look anything like him.

  37

  Hayden

  “Get these off of me,” I tell my father once the EMTs have taken Jonas out of the room and we’re alone. I’m still cuffed to the chair.

  “Not yet. Not until you’re calm.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “You think I wanted this?” His lips are tight. “I loved that little girl like she was my own.”

  “And we all know how well that keeps turning out. Did you know all along?”

  He shakes his head. “What kind of monster do you think I am?”

  “I don’t know. You tell me.”

  “I found out a few months ago…Christ. To see it…” he glances at the photo, rubs the back of his neck.

  I remember the argument I overheard him and my grandfather having the night of the fire. Remember how my grandfather had said something about that filth being allowed to enter his house.

  “Did Grandfather know? Is that what you were arguing about that night?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.” He shakes his head. “We didn’t get that far. He hated both Jonas and Nora. Never accepted them as part of his family. Blood mattered to that old man. And that’s all that mattered.” The look in his eyes when he meets my gaze again is harder. Like how I look at him. “You didn’t know him. I did. I know what he was capable of. What he’d do for his own blood. What he did do when your mother wanted to take you and Ares away.”

  “What does that mean? What did he do?”

  “Your mother didn’t walk away like he wanted everyone to believe. She would never have abandoned you or Ares. She loved you.” He pulls at his hair again and I hear him mutter a curse.

  “What the hell are you saying?”

  He shakes his head. “Ancient history. Everyone involved is dead and gone. Dust. Let them lie,” he says through his teeth, like he’s just barely keeping it together. “You hate me, and you have every right to, but I grew up with a monster too.”

  We stare at each other for a long, weighted minute.

  “Sir?” One of the security guards enter. “You want us t
o take him?”

  “Just uncuff him.”

  “Sir—”

  “Do it and go,” he tells the guards, sounding weary. He walks to the window, one hand on his hip, the other rubbing the back of his neck.

  Once I’m free, I stand. I look out the window too, watch the blinking lights of the ambulance disappear and something tells me not to ask what he means. Because I think whatever it is might change the past and I can’t have any more of that.

  “Why did you stop me?”

  He turns to me and he looks a mess. Like he’s aged ten years in the last ten minutes. He shakes his head, moves to the nearest chair and sits down.

  “I thought it was Abbot. I thought he was the one who’d gotten Nora pregnant.” He struggles with the last word. “But then, after Jonas and Percy got engaged, that’s when I found out the truth. He threatened Jonas. Told him to walk away from his daughter or he’d expose him. Said he had proof. Jonas came to me then. Told me.”

  “And you protected him?”

  He looks up at me. “What could I do? She was dead and gone. And you don’t know how he was. How messed up—”

  “Oh, I know how messed up he is. How sick.”

  “I’m sorry,” he starts, suddenly breaking down into sobs. “I’m so fucking sorry. I’m sorry for all of it.”

  I stop because I have no clue what to do or how to react. I’ve never seen my father shed a single tear. Right now, he looks like a broken man.

  But a few minutes later, he manages to pull himself together, at least a little. “I was young when I became a father.”

  “Is that your excuse?”

  “No. I have no excuse. I’m sorry for what I did to you. I’m sorry I was a shit father to you and Ares.”

  “If you want me to tell you it’s okay or you think you’re somehow going to clear your conscience, then save your breath, old man.”

  He looks at me, shakes his head. “I don’t say it to alleviate my guilt. I am guilty. And I live with the knowledge of what I did to you and your brother daily.”

  I grit my teeth, this admission causing a lump to form in my throat.

  “I fucked up with you and I’m just glad I didn’t fuck you up completely.”

  “Who says you didn’t? I’ve made it my life’s mission to destroy you.”

  “That’s only after Nora. How long have you known about Jonas?” he asks.

  “I thought it was Abbot. I thought that old man was raping her. I only found out today about Jonas.”

  “They’re not related by blood—”

  I’m at the desk in an instant and I slam both fists into it. “Don’t you fucking dare!”

  He doesn’t recoil. Just sits there looking defeated and pathetic. Not the man who raised me with an iron fist. Two iron fists.

  “She was going to be my redemption,” he starts, pulling his hands away from his face, his eyes red and puffy, complexion blotchy. “She was older when I took her in. Had been through some pretty bad shit. ‘Not adoptable’ is what the case worker told us. Three homes had sent her back. Bad news. They tried to talk us out of it and Carry was against it. She wanted a baby, a toddler maybe. Someone she could raise and mold. But me, I wanted someone I could help. Someone whose life I could make better after I fucked so royally with you and your brother.”

  I remember he’d stopped drinking by the time he adopted Nora. Maybe the year before.

  “They never did tell us what it was. Abuse, sexual and physical, abandonment issues. But there was more. There was a mention of sealed records and I know there was an older sibling, a brother who had died, but I never did find out what it was. Something was never right about her. As sweet as she was, there was a darkness she battled, and I think she was more troubled than I ever knew. She never trusted anyone, not really, not fully. I think if she had, she’d be here today. If she hadn’t felt like she had to battle her demons alone.” He shakes his head. “I didn’t do right by her, either, did I? Not by any of you.”

  Fuck.

  In all these years, this wasn’t what I expected from my father. It’s easier to hate someone when you know they’re evil. But looking at him now, he just looks old and tired and sad.

  “I need to get out of here,” I say, my voice hoarse and thick as I take a step toward the door.

  “There’s one more thing, Hayden. Something you should know.”

  I stop, turn to find he’s standing.

  “Quincy Abbot’s accident…I was protecting Jonas.”

  Fuck.

  He nods then shakes his head eyes downcast as if he’s having a conversation in his head simultaneous to this spoken confession. “You asked about my relationship with Angus Scava. Well, he took care of it. And we went into business together. Or that was the plan with Abbot out of the way.”

  “I need to get out of here.” I open the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I don’t know.” I don’t. “Not the hospital, don’t worry.”

  “I’ll get him help, Hayden. He needs help.”

  “I don’t care what the hell you do.” I’m about to walk out when Maryanne rushes into the room.

  “Mr. Montgomery, I’m so sorry to interrupt but I thought you should see this.” She starts moving things around the desk until she finds the remote control to the TV mounted on the wall across the room.

  “Now isn’t the time,” my father says.

  Ignoring him, she switches on the TV and a CNN correspondent’s voice carries over the aerial recording of a man being taken away from a restaurant in handcuffs. I can’t tell who it is.

  “What the fuck?” my father says, taking the remote from Maryanne and turning the volume up as he walks toward the TV.

  “Angus Scava, a local businessman with known ties to the mafia, has been arrested on various charges including running a child pornography ring.”

  I blink, read the same words the reporter just spoke on the ticker just below the image of Scava being hauled away in handcuffs.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket and I reach absently for it.

  “My god,” my father says.

  I answer the phone, my eyes still on the TV.

  “Hayden.” It’s Ares. “You see the news?”

  “Watching it now,” I answer, not sure what his interest in this is.

  “Dominic wants to see you.”

  I turn away from the TV. Ares suddenly has my full attention as I put two and two together. “I didn’t realize you were his errand boy.”

  “I’m just making sure you don’t do anything stupid.”

  “By stupid you mean pulling out of the deal.”

  “He’s taken care of the photos. Like you asked.”

  “And taken the competition out of it. Two birds one stone.”

  “Possibly three.”

  “What do you mean?”’

  “Jonas was the one Scava conspired with to get those photos. You’ve made it pretty obvious you have an interest in the Abbot family.”

  “What are you talking about?” I ask, turning to the desk, seeing the envelope on it as I do, recognizing it. I pick it up. It’s thicker than the one I got. The flap is open, and a quick look inside tells me it’s the same as what someone delivered to the club with just a few photos of Lizzie Abbot inside. This one, though, has a few dozen. “Jesus Christ.”

  “Christ had nothing to do with it.”

  “What’s going on, Ares?”

  It’s quiet for a moment and when he comes back on the line, he’s speaking more softly. “He wants to make sure the deal’s still on. You need to come. And you should know that Percy’s here. I brought her earlier.”

  38

  Persephone

  “How did you meet my father?” I ask Dominic Benedetti who is sitting across from me studying me with eyes that are at once curious, mischievous and mostly dangerous.

  “I’ve known him a while actually. We were most recently reacquainted when he ran into financial difficulties.”

  “You
mean he came to you for money?”

  He shakes his head and smiles. “He came with a business proposition.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “I don’t know the details of his financial situation. I only know that it made sense for us to work together. We each had what the other needed.”

  “He never mentioned you.”

  “I was sorry to hear about the hit-and-run.”

  Ares walks back into the room then and I watch Dominic who raises his eyebrows, the question unspoken.

  “He’s on his way,” Ares says.

  Hayden.

  I glance at Ares who leans against the wall and folds his arms across his chest.

  “Is that why I’m here?” I ask. “Bait to lure Hayden?”

  “Are you afraid, Persephone?” Dominic calls me by my full name, and I don’t like it. That name is reserved for Hayden. Only Hayden.

  “No,” my voice comes across more confident than I feel.

  His eyes narrow a little as he tilts his head to the side and studies me. “You’re safe,” he reassures me anyway. He must see right through me. “No one will hurt you.”

  I glance at Ares who gives me a wink. What a jerk.

  “Turn on the TV,” Dominic says to the man standing at the far wall and a moment later, the TV’s on and a reporter on CNN is talking about a man known to be linked to the mafia being arrested for various charges, including child pornography.

  I turn from the TV to Dominic and take in his pleased smile.

  “Who is that?”

  He looks at me. “Angus Scava.”

  It takes me all of a second to place the name and I glance at the TV again just in time to see the face of the man I met at Jonas’ apartment flash across the screen. He appears cool and collected and he’s looking straight into the camera with a grin on his face like he’s looking right at me.

  Or, I turn to Dominic who grins back, right at Dominic.

  “He’s an enemy of my wife, my family,” Dominic says, shifting his gaze to me. “And your enemy as well.”