36. Chapter 36
Chapter 36
Lilli
I focus on the pain in my ribs as I approach the house because it’s a rather pointed reminder that I’m alive.
When I reach the walkway leading to the door, I pause as Mrs. Myrtle says, “Lillith?”
“Oh, um. Hey, Mrs. Myrtle,” I mumble.
Her eyes drop to my bare legs, a sight she’s never seen. They narrow before she says, “Give ‘em hell, missy.”
My mouth falls open as she winks and goes back to her iced tea. Bemused, I turn to the door. If she only knew.
Shaking my head, I twist the doorknob, hoping it’s unlocked. We’ve never been given keys because Mama said if we needed to come inside, we should already be here.
Thankfully, it opens easily, and I step into the darkened depths with my heart in my throat because normally the shades are open.
After closing the door behind me, I step down the hall. The kitchen is empty when I glance inside.
The first evidence of trouble I find is in the dining room where a chair rests on its side beside a broken dish and the remains of dinner—steak and potatoes by the looks of it.
“Mama?” I gasp when I pass the table and spy her lying face down on the floor.
With her face turned toward me, I’m able to see her wide, vacant eyes. Her back, covered in blood, doesn't move and I know without touching her that she’s dead.
When I step into the living room, I find Daddy tied up in a chair with duct tape over his mouth. He meets my gaze with wide eyes and struggles against the rope binding his arms and legs to the chair as Hand steps around the corner behind him.
“Thought for a minute there you weren’t gonna show,” Hand says, and I glance at the clock on the mantle behind him.
Twenty minutes to spare, thank God.
“Mercy?” I ask.
Shrugging, he points to the closet. “Left her where I found her. Your parents are into some sick shit.”
I whip around to Daddy, but he drops his chin, refusing to meet my eyes.
Liar. I want to rage at him for his actions but now is not the time.
“I’m here. Let her go,” I say but Hand shakes his head.
“Not so fast, little bitch. We ain’t done here yet.”
“You said—“
“I said you had one hour. Now shut the fuck up and call your boyfriend,” he barks.
I’m guessing now is not the time to argue semantics. Wolf has never been my boyfriend and if I had to describe our relationship now it wouldn’t be dating .
It feels like too much has passed between us for it to be something as simple as that.
“I don’t have his number,” I say instead, ignoring the irony. I mean, I miscarried the man’s baby and I have no way of contacting him.
His brows furrow but he doesn’t comment beyond, “Gimme your phone.”
“I don’t have a phone either,” I snap.
His eyes widen and then narrow as he pulls out his phone, mumbling, “Crazy bitch.”
Despite the calm I’m trying to portray, I’m terrified and it shows with every trembling limb I can’t wrestle into control.
I’m not prepared for his fist coming at my face which is why I get the full impact and stumble back, grabbing my cheek.
Tears fill my eyes as he points the phone at me and says, “Smile.”
His chuckle is lost on me though as the phone clicks and he fiddles with it once more.
Apparently satisfied, he shoves the phone into his pocket and pulls a gun from the back of his jeans.
Waving it at the chair opposite Daddy he says, “Sit.”
Raising my chin, I say, “I want to see Mercy.”
With a grunt, he says, “Fine.”
Cautiously, I step around him to the closet and open the door. Inside, Mercy looks up, blinking against the light. Her eyes widen when she sees me, but they melt into terror as Hand steps into my back.
My skin crawls at the contact, but I muster a smile hoping she gets my message. It’ll be okay.
Please let her be okay.
Although she’s clearly scared, I don’t find any visible marks leading me to believe she’s hurt. For now…
“Now sit,” Hand growls and I back away, mentally wincing when Hand shuts the door.
If I live through this, I vow that my little sister will never see the inside of a closet again.
Daddy’s still looking at the floor when I sit down gingerly on the chair. If the plans didn’t change, Wolf is two hours North, looking for this jerk.
Even if he looked at his phone now, it could be hours before he shows up here. I don’t have that to spare.
The clock is ticking and assuming Miriam keeps her word, I have little time left to get Mercy out that door.
“Please,” I say, licking my dry lips. “Please let Mercy go. I’ll do whatever you want. Please.”
Hand tips his head, his dark blue eyes contemplative before he says, “Even if I want to fuck you in front of your daddy?”
My pulse skips a beat as I stare at him blankly. I really didn’t consider that when I made this deal but if it comes down to it, I’ll do anything to save Mercy, Miriam, and her baby.
Bile swishes around in my stomach as his mouth curls in a smirk. I feel no victory though when his eyes widen as I whisper, “Yes.”
The minutes seem to tick away before he grunts, “I don’t want your pussy. But maybe we can make a deal, you and me. You shoot your daddy, and I’ll let Mercy Lou Lou go.”
His use of her nickname disturbs me, but I’ve got bigger issues because if he’s being serious, I don’t think I can say no.
I hate my daddy for every whip of the belt. For driving Rachel to run. For allowing our mother to slowly kill the spirit that surely god gifted to us when we were born.
I hate the man, but I don’t hate enough to commit murder. Could I even come back from that?
“Why?” I blurt.
Daddy has been achingly still since I sat down before him, and I glance at him sideways but he’s still staring at the floor.
A bead of sweat drips down his temple, and I eye his fingers clenched around the chair, the only display of emotion I see.
“Why?” Hand says and then waves the gun around. “Why not?”
Well, I suppose that’s as good an answer as any from this psycho.
Still, I don’t understand why he’s here. What happened to the sheriff?
Licking my lips, I whisper, “What about the sheriff?”
His eyes narrow and he cocks his head before he grunts, “That pansy ass fucker don’t know shit. I ain’t going down for him. He wants Castro so bad, well, he can thank me later when the fucker is dead.”
Castro? So, this is about Wolf. Why?
While I contemplate his words, he waves his gun and says, “Well?”
I look at the closet door. Mercy. She’s so innocent, so kind. So vibrant. How much of what’s already happened has changed her?
I can take away her pain right now.
Pushing from the chair, I stand tall and say, “Okay.”
Once again, I think I’ve surprised the jerk but what he doesn’t understand is that a sister’s love is feral. It’s formed out of shared love and loss. It grows with every beat of our hearts.
It’s the best kind of love because it’s unbreakable.
“You gonna do this? Over here,” Hand barks.
Although my knees are weak, I comply, stepping around the chair but before I get far, he says, “Nope. You look that fucker in the eyes.”
Swallowing, I nod and step back until I’m in front of the man who gave me life. He also slowly tried to form me in his grotesque image. So, there’s that.
Hand steps up and I stiffen when his arms wrap around me from behind. He grabs my hand and forces it around the gun before closing his meaty paw over mine.
I suppose it would be too good to be true for him to just give me the gun. Instead, I ignore his sweaty skin as I suck in a breath.
“Look up, you cowardly piece of shit,” Hand barks.
Daddy shakes his head before leaning back. When his eyes meet mine, I try to decipher the emotion shining back at me. But with him I only recognize rage and disdain, whatever this is, it’s not that.
Hand presses the gun against his temple, with my palm still clutching the grip.
Tears well in my eyes and I flinch as he pulls the trigger, but nothing happens. Dizziness assails me as Daddy’s eyes roll in his head.
Hand chuckles and pushes me away. I’m too shaky to maintain my balance and fall to my knees.
“Too bad,” Miriam says behind me, and I whip around as the room echoes with sound.
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
Clutching his chest, Hand staggers back before dropping to his knees as blood spreads beneath his fingers. He works his mouth, but nothing comes out as he collapses face forward with a thud.
My ears ring as I back away on my hands and knees, unable to tear my gaze from the pool of red surrounding his body.
Miriam exhales and staggers to the chair beside me. She collapses into it, leaning over her belly, her face pale.
“Mir?” I whisper and she winces.
“I think I’m in labor,” she groans.
Shoot.
I glance around wildly, meeting Daddy’s wide eyes. His gaze flickers to Miriam before returning to me.
Ignoring the silent message, I stand and say, “Take Mercy. Go to the hospital.”
“What about this?” she says.
“I’ll figure something out. Go,” I say, grabbing her hand and pulling her gently to her feet.
She wobbles before straightening and I rush to the closet. Mercy looks up when I open the door and I say, “You’re leaving. Close your eyes and do not open them until I say so.”
“What happened?” she whispers.
“Not now. You have to go. Miriam’s in labor. Mercy,” I say, grabbing her cheeks.
She clutches my arm as I say, “If anyone asks, you weren’t here. You don’t know anything. Understand?”
She nods, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Where was I?”
“You were at the clubhouse with Toni.”
“Toni. Okay.”
After she closes her eyes, I lead her to the door, Miriam trailing after me. At the threshold, she hands me the gun and they leave.
The weight of the weapon pulls at my arm, and it takes everything in me not to go with them, but I have to figure out what to do. Mama’s dead. Hand is dead. Miriam shot him.
It was self-defense but it’s her word against a dead man with Daddy as a witness. What happens if he lies? Would the sheriff care about the truth when his man is dead?
When I return to the living room, still clutching the gun, Daddy meets my gaze and says something through the tape.
Numbly, I say, “I don’t know what to do, Daddy. You always taught me to do the right thing, but it was wrong in the end. So does that mean I’m supposed to do the opposite?”
He shakes his head and says something that’s of course garbled beneath his gag.
Although I’m sure that I don’t want to hear what he has to say, I allow this small mercy and rip the tape from his mouth.
He winces, licking his lips before saying, “Untie me. Give me the gun and go.”
“What?”
If he had said shoot me and get it over with, I wouldn’t have been more surprised.
“Look, Lillith Anne, there’s many things I’ve done wrong. I’m not proud of them. Let me do this, daughter. Please?”
“Do what?”
His eyes move to Hand on the floor. “It was self-defense. He shot my wife,” he says.
“Why?”
“Because I’m not a good man and I’ve been so selfish.” Tears roll down his cheeks but I’m immune.
The time for apologies is gone. He stood by while my mother killed my baby. He can rot in hell for all I care.
Still, I’m not dumb enough to pass this up. If it means sparing the people I love, I’ll bite.
“Plea—“
I press the barrel of the gun against his forehead and his eyes go wide.
“If you’re lying to me, I’ll come back here and shoot you myself.”
“I-I know. I promise,” he stutters.
“Baby girl?” The soft sound of Wolf’s voice brings tears to my eyes, and I spin around launching into his arms.
“Wolf,” I sob, and he picks me up before grabbing the gun out of my hand and passing it to Giant.
Giant nods as we pass, heading for the door.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Home.”