Wolfe (Red Falls #1)
Prologue
PROLOGUE
CADEN
18 YEARS AGO
A t the age of twelve, I never could have imagined that I would bear witness to a murder. And that's exactly what this was. It was undeniably a murder. They claimed the man had done wrong by them. That he was a bad man, but deep down, even as a child, I knew that taking his life would be no better than any possible sins he may have committed.
The man’s hands shook as he mercilessly stabbed the knife into the other man's body. I hunched my shoulders, trying to make myself smaller, as if I could somehow escape the violence and the intimidating presence of all the men and women in the room. Even though my father had brought me there, I couldn't shake the feeling that I didn't belong, that this was no place for a child. They all loomed ominously in the shadows, dressed in black hooded coats with red belts cinched around their waists. The dim light above cast a glimmer on the ruby-encrusted brooches adorning their left chests.
"Gilbert, that's enough," a figure cloaked in darkness commanded, taking the dagger from my the man. The mans chubby face was flushed and sweaty, he stepped back and straightened, surveying the circle of people.
"Welcome to the herd," the cloaked figure spoke again.
On the ride home, my father and I sat in silence, and I was relieved to be away from the violence. Little did I know, my father had more in store for me that night. I was in the kitchen when I overheard my parents arguing in my mothers room upstairs. Their voices, already loud, grew even louder as they stormed out of the room.
"I don't want him to be a part of that, Jacob," my mother yelled.
"You don't have a damn choice, Vanessa," my father's voice thundered.
"You didn't even want him when I told you I was pregnant. You said your wife would leave you if I had the baby. I told you that you didn't have to do anything, that no one would even know he was yours. And then, after eight years, you suddenly waltzed back into our lives say you want to get to know your son?" My mother screamed. "And now you take him there, to those evil people. You're not taking my son there anymore, Jacob." She sobbed.
I heard my father growl, then there was a sudden loud crash followed by a thud, and then an eerie silence fell over the room. No more yelling or talking, just a haunting stillness. I cautiously entered the living room, my heart pounding, only to freeze in shock. There, at the bottom of the stairs, lay my mother's lifeless body, her limbs bent in an unnatural positions. A horrifying pool of blood spread around her head on the floor. I couldn't hold back my scream and desperately ran towards her. But before I could reach her, I felt strong hands grabbing me from behind. It was my father, pulling me away.
"Listen, son," he began, his voice trembling, "She fell down the stairs... she fell... she fell..." He repeated the words, almost as if trying to convince himself. How could he have let her fall? Rage filled me, and I spun around to confront him, tears streaming down my cheeks. But my reaction seemed to make him even more unhinged. His hands closed tightly around my throat, squeezing with a force that made my ear pop and my vision blur with black spots. Darkness enveloped me as I lost consciousness. When I woke, I found myself lying in a hospital bed. My father stood beside me, his demeanor much calmer now. He gazed at me in silence for a while before finally speaking, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Your mother fell down the stairs, I'm sorry, son. She's dead." The weight of his words hung in the air, their true intention more of a veiled threat than a genuine apology or acknowledgment.
I cried uncontrollably long after he left, my tears seemingly endless. It felt as if I had used up a lifetime supply in that single moment, because from that point on, I never shed another tear. Not when my father subjected me to relentless beatings, not when he attempted to strangle me again, not even when he told me he wished I was dead and not when he sent me away.
Not a single tear.