Chapter 6 #2
Hendrix shoves him. “T, shut up!”
Gone? His answer holds too many connotations, and I try not to jump to conclusions. He could mean she left the gala early.
“What do you mean she’s gone?”
Tristan’s mouth thins, and a flicker of sadness passes over his expression. Seeing it, my mind jumps to the only conclusion it can. The reason why Caroline visited my father. His warning to her.
“She can’t be promised to Tristan if she’s already promised to someone else.”
“James could have you killed for this.”
“James would never hurt me.”
“Can you say the same about Francesco?”
“What did you do?” I don’t wait for clarification. My hands clench into tight fists, my intention clear.
“I didn’t do anything! Her parents took her away. We don’t know where she is.”
Rage scalds my insides, burning me with its venom. “You’re lying!”
Constantine inches forward, always Tristan’s protector, but Hendrix has a hair trigger and makes the first move.
“Fuck this.” He slams into me, shoulder first, tackling me to the ground.
The air occupying my lungs shoots out in a whoosh as we hit the rough surface of the graveled bitumen, the tiny, jagged-edged rocks stabbing through the fabric of my trousers and tuxedo jacket.
Hendrix is already swinging, and my arm snaps up, blocking his punch from reaching my face.
Using the bulk of my body as leverage, I’m able to roll us and spring to my feet—
—only to stumble back when Constantine rushes forward.
I twist to the left just as his knuckles graze my cheek, then duck under his arm and grab the back of his shirt, flipping him over and slamming him to the ground.
I glance to my left when I catch movement in my peripheral vision, the glint of moonlight on metal drawing my attention to the switchblade in Hendrix’s hand. Well, shit.
“I wouldn’t if I were you.” Aleksei emerges from the shadows, the barrel of his Sig Sauer digging into the back of Tristan’s neck.
My shocked expression says, You brought a gun to the gala? Aleksei’s nonchalant smirk replies, You should be grateful, seeing as I just saved you from getting shanked in the back.
Aleksei’s smile is menacing when he says, “Never bring a knife to a gunfight. Now, get the fuck away from my brother.”
Hendrix glares him down. “You hurt him, and I’ll kill you.”
“I’d love to see you try, Knight.”
Not wanting things to escalate more than they already have, I let Constantine get to his feet.
His coal-black irises bore into me as he brushes himself off.
Using sign language, his hands move in a jerky rhythm.
I’ve picked up some rudimentary ASL from watching A Quiet Place, so I get the gist of what he’s saying.
“What?” Hendrix snaps, clearly not understanding.
“He said to back off.”
Hendrix flips the knife around and clutches it between his fingers, using the blade to flip me off.
Ignoring him, I turn back to Tristan. “Can you at least tell me if she’s okay?”
“Why do you care?”
Aleksei isn’t gentle when he smacks the side of Tristan’s head with the gun. “Don’t be a dick. It was a simple question.”
“When did she leave?”
Tristan narrows his eyes, breathes in deeply. He’s not going to tell me. But Hendrix does.
“Months ago. The night of Con’s initiation. We haven’t heard from her since. You got your answer. You and your fucktwin can fuck off now.”
“Fucktwin? Really?” Aleksei replies, not amused.
Letting my hatred and my worry get the better of me, I blurt, “If your father,” I make sure to emphasize, “hurt her because she was promised to me, there will be no place on this earth either of you can hide where I won’t find you.”
Tristan’s face contorts with bafflement. “What are you talking about?”
It takes three steps to close the distance between us. I’m taller by two inches, and I take great pride in towering over him. “Caroline didn’t want Aoife to be with you. She wanted her to be with me. Aoife is going to be my wife, not yours. Where. Is. She?”
“The fuck she is!” Hendrix shouts, inching closer.
Aleksei kicks the back of Tristan’s knee, and his leg buckles, dropping him to the ground in a kneeling position.
“You know I’ll blow his brains out if you do anything stupid. Aleks, come on.”
My feet refuse to move. I’m not leaving until they tell me everything. Unfortunately, my twin has other ideas. Keeping his gun trained on Tristan, he grabs the sleeve of my jacket and yanks me behind him, pushing me toward the door as he slowly backs away.
“Have a good night, fuckers,” he says, shuts the door, and shoots the access panel. The gunshot booms like cannon fire in the small confines of the stairwell, momentarily deafening me.
“What is wrong with you?”
“Hopefully, that’ll give us a few minutes head start.” He urges me down the stairs with a not so gentle poke in the shoulder.
“How did you know where I was?” I ask a little too loudly because my ears are still ringing.
“Twin thing.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I’m being serious.” When we exit the storage closet, he tucks his gun into the back of his waistband and loops his arm over my shoulders as we walk down the hallway toward the elevator. “Just be glad I showed up. A thank you would be nice.”
He’s acting like what just happened wasn’t all sorts of fucked up.
Irritated with his blasé attitude, I knock his arm off. “Why do you have a gun?”
“Why wouldn’t I have a gun?”
“Because we’re thirteen, and it’s not normal.”
His loud bark of laughter reverberates between the walls. “I disagree.”
Given how we were raised, he has a valid point. But still.
“Stop being pestiferous.”
He presses the down button, and the elevator doors swoosh open almost immediately. “Stop using words you know full well I don’t know.”
“It means annoying.” As soon as we’re inside, I slump against the wood-paneled wall. “They took her away,” I tell him, my heartbreak and my pain spilling out of me. They took my sunshine. Aoife’s gone, and I don’t know where she is.
Aleksei considers me for a moment as the elevator starts moving. “That was a really stupid thing to do, telling him about—”
I rest the back of my head against the wall with a thunk. “I know! It just came out.”
He and Pyotr are the only people I’ve told. My circle of trust is small, and it’s not a circle. It’s a triangle. Him, Pyotr, and Mama.
“He’s not going to let you have her.”
Tap. Tap. Tap.
He sighs. Loudly. “Why are you so fixated on her?”
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“Didn’t you just point out that we were thirteen? Isn’t it a little early to think about marriage and forever and all that shit?”
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Aleksei sidles up next to me, bumps my shoulder. “I’m never getting married. Look at our parents. They hate each other.”
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“Is she worth it?”
My head whips around. “Aoife is worth everything,” I reply with zero hesitation.
Roughing a hand over his face, he sighs again. “Helen of Troy and the Trojan War. You know that Paris dies at the end, right?”
“I’m not Paris.”
“No, you’re not.” He raps two fingers against my forehead. “You’re smarter. So be smart about this. And whatever you do, you know I’ll have your back.”
The drive to the house is spent in complete silence, something I appreciate because it gives my mind time to decompress. When I’m overwhelmed or overstimulated, it’s difficult to find balance again. For the last hour, I’ve been staring out the window and counting backward from ten, over and over.
“Hey, we’re home,” Aleksei whispers, pulling me out of my meditation.
I steal a glance at Father’s harsh profile as our driver pulls the car up to the door. I don’t bother waiting for him or Aleksei before getting out and heading inside the house.
“Good evening, sir,” Charles, our butler, greets me as soon as I step across the threshold.
“Is Mama asleep?”
“Mistress Stepanoff retired to her quarters after she arrived.”
“Thank you.” I get as far as the middle of the foyer before I stop in my tracks when I feel it. The emptiness, like a void of thick, unnatural silence, as if the house is holding its breath, waiting for me to…oh god.
My feet grow wings as I race up the stairs, my heart pounding as fast as my footfalls.
When I get to the master suite, I find Mama on her bed, still wearing the black evening gown she wore tonight.
She looked so pretty in it. Elegant and classy.
She had worn her hair up in a sophisticated bun and secured it with sapphire pins, the ones she said my grandmother gave to her as “something blue” on her wedding day.
“Mama?” The soles of my shoes crunch over the pills scattered across the floor when I approach the bed.
“Mama?” She’s too still. Too quiet. Asleep, but not asleep.
“Mama?” I say more urgently, my hand trembling violently as I try to search for a pulse at the side of her neck. Hot tears pour down my cheeks.
Aleksei runs in, wild-eyed and panicked. He must have felt it, too.
“What—” He staggers back when he sees her. “No! No! Aleks, do something!” he shouts.
I can’t.
Because she’s gone.
“Why did she leave us?” Aleksei cries, falling into me, his sobs soaking my neck. Aleksei never cries, and I have no comfort to give him.
My gaze flicks to Father standing in the doorway, his face etched with devastation as he gazes upon his wife’s lifeless body.
Mama is gone. Aoife is gone. The only two stars that existed in my universe have disappeared, leaving only darkness to fill my sky.
I calmly slip the gun from Aleksei’s waistband.
Aim it at my father.
And pull the trigger.