“Pathetic little Skye,” he chides, then takes a sip of his scotch on the rocks.
“I’m here now, let Lea go. She isn’t who you want,” I say without making eye contact with Lea.
“Oh, Miss Mouth over here is my collateral,” he says with a smirk.
I sigh. “I won’t leave, just let her go. You have me, you don’t need her.”
“Nice try, Skye. She can sit there. I won’t have her running to get help for you.” He gives her a calculating smile.
“What the hell do you want from me?” I scream at him, my patience running on empty.
“You will show me some respect,” he bellows, turning purple with the effort. “Now try asking nicely,” he says with a firm set to his jaw.
I grit my teeth and inhale through my nose, trying to calm the burning anger before I answer. “Why did you request this meeting?”
“Why do you think?” he says as he takes another drink, the ice clinking in the glass grates on my nerves. He stares into the bottom of his now empty glass and pushes his big bulk off the bar, walking around it to fix another.
I hear a noise to the side of me and my eyes dart over to the shadows, where I see my mother standing silently, watching. Always a part of the darkness. She doesn’t even hold up a finger to silence me anymore. I still to this day try and protect her.
“Are you going to answer me, girl?” my father says as he perches himself back on his throne.
“I have no clue,” I reply through gritted teeth.
“Really? Here I thought you were smarter than you look,” he says with a mirthless laugh.
I glance over at Lea and take a step inside the room. She shakes her head and looks at my father. I pause, she’s right. It’s best to keep some distance between us.
“Don’t be coy, Skye. I hear you’ve had a nice little visit with a lawyer,” he sneers.
My face flushes.
“You never could lie, you’re so easy to read, Skye.”
“So what if I did? Haven’t you kept my inheritance for long enough?” I stand up a little straighter, proud for once to be standing my ground.
His eyes flash with rage. “That old bitch! She changed her will and didn’t tell anyone. It was all supposed to go to your mother.”
“Why didn’t it then? Why would she give it all to me?
“The old cow took a disliking to me and apparently decided to cut your mother out and hand it all straight to you.”
“Maybe she knew you’d get your hands on it and piss it all away if she left it to mom.”
“Watch your tongue, Skye,” he roars, slamming his glass on the bar and both Lea and I flinch. “I put a decent roof over your head; funded you and your mother’s endless shopping.”
“I never wanted any of this.” I wave a hand around the room.
“Oh, cut the ‘poor me’ act, always sounding like a sniveling little brat.” He has a crazed look about him as he turns back to the bar and tosses back another scotch.
“Bastard,” I hiss. He says these things just to get a rise out of me, I should know better but I’m done letting him win.
“Takes one to know one,” he spits and lifts his glass in salute.
My brows furrow. “Okay… I’m done stooping to your level. Enough of the name calling. Why am I here?”
“Why? You ask me why?” He emits a crazed cackle and pushes off the bar and walks over to a side table. He shakes his head as he opens the drawer and takes something out, slowly turning back to me.
I look from the look of cold steel in his eyes, to the cold steel of a gun, pointed at me.
I glance over to Lea and her eyes are wide and focused on the gun. Then they snap to me. She can’t say anything, but I understand what she’s trying to convey, her eyes say run.
“You asked me why?” he repeats as the gun gently sways in his hand.
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t need to know.” I see out of the corner of my eye that my mother has moved closer to the door way. Coward.
“Oh? But I want you to know,” he says and takes a step closer.
“Fine Dad, have it your way… tell me why?” I’m surprised at the impatience in my voice given that my life is being threatened.
“Don’t you ever call me that again. I’m not your goddamn father!” he yells with spittle coming out of his mouth.
My mouth opens but the gasp doesn’t come from me, it comes from my mother beside me, still hiding in the shadows.
“That’s right, your mother thought to trap me with a baby that wasn’t mine.” His hand is steady even as he shakes with rage.
“So why take this out on me?”
“I was happy taking it out on your mother, until her bitch of a mother ruined my plans.” His beady little eyes focused directly on me.
Out of the corner of my eye I see my mom shuffle.
When I focus back on my father, my eyes are drawn straight past him to the patio. Preston is standing in the doorway and raises a finger to his lips, then he steps out of sight.
“All I had to do was sit tight and wait for the money to be ours and then I could take what I deserved for putting up with this family for far too long. But she wrecked it. So now I’m going to take what is owed to me.”
“Enough, Bob!” My mother finally finds her voice.
“Oh look who it is, hiding in the shadows as always. Hello Victoria,” he says with a sneer.
“You want the money, Bob? Just take it and end all of this,” she says, her voice shaking with anger.
“The little mouse has finally found her voice,” he says and takes another step closer.
“Just stop this insanity,” she says in a voice I’ve never heard.
I look over at my mother, gone is the timid woman, she is standing up straight, determined.
“You thought I didn’t know didn’t you, thought you’d played me for a fool all these years. Ever wonder why I didn’t put another brat in you? No? I’m sterile, you stupid bitch!”
My mother presses her lips together and turns to me. “I’m so sorry, Skye.”
She looks back at my father. I catch myself before I say it in my head. His face is contorted with rage. “You apologize to her? I’m the one that deserves an apology.”
“No, Bob, after the hell you made our life, you deserve to rot in hell and that’s about it.” She clenches her fists to her side.
“With both of you dead, it will all be mine.” He lifts the gun, pointing it at me.
My mother laughs. “You aren’t thinking straight. Put the gun down, Bob.”
He looks at her, but doesn’t take his aim off me. “You’re going to watch your brat die, then I’ll deal with you.”
The next few seconds happen in slow motion. He turns back to face me and tightens his grip on the gun. “Just know that everything that’s happened to you is your mother’s fault.”
He braces the gun with both hands, and I hear the click. I don’t take my eyes off his as he pulls the trigger. The next thing I know, I hit the floor. My head cracks hard on the tile and the wind is knocked from my lungs. I don’t know where I was hit, I feel nothing but where I hit my head and a great weight on my chest. As I focus I realize the weight is my mother. I’m just starting to figure out that she must have thrown herself in front of me, when she moves. She turns her head slightly and says, “Please forgive me.”
Before I can answer her, he steps into view and I look up into the barrel of the gun. He stares into my eyes and smiles as he pulls the trigger.
An animalistic roar fills the room, and his hand waivers as the shot goes off. Sharp searing pain in my head blinds me momentarily and when I focus again I seed Preston tackle Bob, another shot going off in the process. I feel my mother stop moving on top of me and this kicks me into action.
Preston is yelling, “You asshole…” I can’t hear the rest.
I roll my mom off me and look down and see a bullet hole in her temple. My vision goes blurry and I touch my temple, bringing my hand down covere
d in blood. I must have hit my head pretty hard. “Shit shit shit,” I hiss, wiping my hand down my pants and seeing the front of my shirt covered in blood too.
Preston’s guttural cry has me looking for him. He is screaming as his fists meet flesh. Bob is trying to block the punches when Preston suddenly stops and reaches down beyond Bob’s head and picks up the gun.
He points it directly at Bob’s forehead and presses it in. “You son of a bitch, you killed her,” Preston cries.
“Go ahead, shoot me you little bastard,” Bob dares him.
I can see Preston’s hand shaking. So not to startle him I speak softly. “Preston…”
“Oh my God. I can still hear her voice.” He has tears streaming down his face. “I’m going to fuck you up, Bob. You’re going to beg me to kill you.”
“Preston. I’m here.” I stand and waver for a moment, slightly dizzy, then take the few steps over to him. “Preston?”
“Detka?” he croaks.
I set my hand on his shoulder and he jumps from the contact. “I’m okay,” I soothe. “I’m right here.”
Preston snarls down at Bob, then takes the gun away from his forehead and slams the butt into the side of his head, knocking him out cold. He tosses the gun to the side and scrambles to his feet. “Detka, are you hurt? Is that your blood?” he pleads, looking me over.
“Umm, I don’t know.” I raise a hand to my head where it is throbbing. “I hit my head.”
“Come here,” he says softly, opening his arms.
I touch my head again and look at my fingers. I take a step toward him. “I think this might be my blood,” I tell him, and the dizziness overcomes me.
Beep…beep…beep… the constant sound of the alarm cuts through my sleep. I reach out to try and press snooze and my hand is instantly engulfed in strong hands.
“Detka, open your eyes for me.” The soft plea comes as my hand is squeezed tighter.
I slowly open my eyes, the light hurting them. I gasp and quickly try to sit up, groaning. I look around me and realize I am in a hospital bed, with Preston by my side. I search my mind for my last memory. “My father…?” I turn my head and look into Preston’s worried face.
He frowns and stands up. “He was arrested. You don’t have to worry about him anymore.”
I nod and bring a hand to my head. “And my mother?”
He sits down on the side of the bed. “She’s gone, Detka. I’m so sorry.”
My eyes swell with tears and I squeeze his hands. “She was a horrible mother,” I blurt out as I start to cry.
He wastes no time climbing into my bed with me and pulling me into his arms. I let him hold me. “Yes she was, Detka, but she was also your mom.”
I nod, sniffling into his chest. “Lea?” I ask as I fist his shirt in my hand.
“Fine and as feisty as ever and waiting outside for you to wake up,” he says as he brushes the hair from my face.
“Thank God, I’m glad she wasn’t hurt because of me.” I swallow hard.
He cups my face and brings my head up to look into his eyes. “This wasn’t because of you.”
“But…” I try to argue.
He silences me with his lips, then presses his forehead to mine. I let out a hiss of pain. “Shit,” he murmurs and pulls away and skims his fingers over a bandage on my head. “I was so goddamn scared, Detka.”
I slightly shrug. “I only hit my head on the floor.”
He shakes his head. “That bastard shot you,” he tells me and hugs me closer. I saw that gun pointed at you and thought I’d lost you again.” He takes in a shaky breath.
“I’m here, Preston,” I say softly.
“The bullet only grazed your head, a flesh wound the doctor says. You will have one hell of a headache though. Are you in pain? Want me to get a nurse?” he questions.
I lift a hand and press a finger to his mouth. “I’m okay, I’m here with you.”
His eyes fill with tears. “I can’t stand the thought of losing you.” He swallows hard, his jaw is in a firm line.
“You won’t, I will be just fine,” I say as I gently wipe a tear off his cheek. “I love you.”
His eyes light up. “Say it again, please…I need to hear it again.” He cups my face, tilting it so we are looking in each other’s eyes.
“I love you, Preston Hart.” Truer words I have never spoken and felt.
He releases my face and captures my hands, bringing them to his chest. “Finally, Miss Divine, I can show you what a beautiful mosaic you truly are.”
Epilogue
I’m woken by the soft strings of her guitar. I listen with my eyes closed and wait for her to start singing softly. It makes me so happy. I smile from the bed and listen to her finish the love song she’s been working on.
When she stops, I lean up on my elbow and look over at her, her eyebrows scrunched with concentration. She stops playing and sets her guitar down.
“What’s the matter?”
She looks at me and her face automatically brightens with a carefree smile. “Just stuck on the next verse.”
“Come back to bed, I’ll help you find the words.”
She laughs. “Come on, get up, I have coffee ready.”
I groan. “Does that mean you’re not coming back to bed?”
She walks back over to the bed, leans down and grabs the corner of the blanket. Before she can pull it off I launch myself up and grab her around the waist. She shrieks and I twist, pulling her down under me.
I frame her face with my hands and hold her still. Leaning down I kiss her. “We can make the melody from here, Detka.”
She laughs. “Are you being a pervert?”
I waggle my eyebrows at her. “I can be if you want me to be.”
“All night wasn’t enough for you?” she asks, caressing my face.
“It will never be enough.”
“Every day I fall even more in love with you. Now how are you going to help me find the melody?”
“Listen, Detka, what do you hear?” I ask her as I brush the hair away from her face.
Her brows furrow for a moment, then he brightest smile lights up her face. “The ocean, I hear the water.”
“Yes, what else do you hear?” I trace her lips with the pad of my thumb, vowing to myself to keep that smile there.
“Our heart beats.”
She nips at my thumb and then whispers, “It’s really over, isn’t it?”
“Murder, kidnapping, and attempted murder are just a few of the charges he was proven guilty of. I don’t think he will outlast the two life sentences. Do you?”
“No,” she whispers, her eyes wide with happiness. She slides out from under me and gets out of bed. She spreads her arms, and twirls while she laughs. “I’m free, we’re free,” she sings, then walks to the window and opens up the blinds and gasps.
I smile as I am captivated by her rare form. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“It’s stunning. When we arrived last night you couldn’t tell. The view is amazing. You should come see.” She turns to me and is outlined by the bright sunshine. She walks back over to the bed and I hold out a hand, she puts her hand in mine and my heart swells. I pull her back into the bed.
“Fiji can wait, Detka. This view is all I need.” I smile down at her.
She caresses my face. “I love you, Mr. Hart.”
I take her left hand in mine and press a kiss to her knuckles. “I love you too, Mrs. Hart.”
Acknowledgments
It takes a village to raise a book and I want to thank my tribe.
About the Author
Heather Shere is a wife of twenty some odd years and wants you to know that you get less for murder. She’s also the mother of two adult shaped kids, who she thinks she messed up just enough to make them highly successful individuals, who are also hilarious.
She has a masters degree in snark and nothing entertains her more than someone who can word battle with her. She considers herself an awesome cook and an expe
rt baker but wants to eat out most days, however nothing is made ‘the right way’ unless she makes it herself.
When she gets bored she likes to tinker with different hobbies like crocheting, scrapbooking, stamping and card making. Her newest and most fulfilling passion is writing and she welcomes you into the deep dark depths of her mind.
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Divine Hart Page 24
