Chapter Fifty-Seven #2
She reluctantly turns to face me while frowning nervously. “Yes?”
“Make that the last time you try to take anything of mine.”
Nodding quickly, she hurries away, and I hear several throats clearing behind me, so I turn to face my guys who are all watching me with amused eyes. “What?” I say with an innocent shrug. “I’m not sorry. She had it coming.”
“Indeed, she did,” Thorin says.
The rest of the evening happens uneventfully with me mostly dodging questions about my security team.
Halfway through the night, an emergency alarm sounds, drawing everyone’s attention, and I use the cover of the commotion to break away to head to the bathroom.
It’s likely a pap or an overzealous fan of one of the countless celebrities in attendance.
When I reach the bathroom, I manage to convince my guys to stay out in the hallway and not follow me in since my uncle still hasn’t shown his face.
And he won’t now since the gala has a strict late-arrival policy.
I’ll stay another hour and then I’ll go, I think as I look around the fancy bathroom.
There’s another door at the other end that I dismiss as a supply closet while I head inside the largest of the three stalls.
Once I’m inside, I lift up my dress, but the heavy material strains my arms, and I can’t seem to get it all over my hips at once.
This is the reason why relieving yourself is not an option when attending one of these things, but I recently had a baby, so…
nature calls. After several failed attempts of trying not to ruin the custom dress I got on loan, I call out for one of my guys, and Seth appears inside the stall in a flash.
“What’s up?”
“Help me, will you?” I indicate my dress, and he wordlessly walks over to hold it out of the way for me while I squat over the toilet.
“How did they even expect you to go in this thing?”
“They didn’t,” I answer dryly while I pee.
Once I’m done, Seth carefully rearranges my gown around me and then backs out of the stall.
I follow, and he hangs around while I wash my hands and check my makeup.
As I’m reapplying my lipstick, I hear the creak of the door opening and look toward the one I came through only to see that it’s still firmly shut.
I’m still frowning at it in confusion when I hear a thud and grunt and turn in time to see Seth slumping to the ground and my uncle standing behind him with the gun he used to knock out Seth pointed at me.
The look in his bloodshot eyes tells me that Uncle Mars is long past familial bonds, and frankly, so am I. I open my mouth to scream, and he aims the gun at the back of Seth’s head. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“What do you want?” I ask coldly.
“Lock the door.” When I don’t move, he fires off a shot into the tile an inch from Seth’s head, and I hurry over to the door to lock it before Khalil and Thorin have a chance to burst through.
I hear them pounding on it and calling my name as soon as I turn the lock.
“Now come over here. Get over here!” he roars when I don’t move fast enough.
“You look like shit, Uncle Mars. Is something wrong?”
“I know it was you who told the Feds.” Before I can deny it, he grabs my hair the moment I’m close enough and forces me through the door he came in.
The door I assumed was a supply closet.
Thorin will scold me about that later after he tortures himself for not checking out the bathroom and all entry and exit points before letting me inside.
Right now, I stumble into what looks like another hallway, and the first thing I notice is the red exit sign at the end of it marking my doom. If he gets me through it, I’m toast. He’ll likely have a car waiting close by.
My uncle presses the gun to my spine to get me moving faster since it’s only a matter of time before Thorin and Khalil break through the bathroom door.
“There’s no point in killing me, Uncle. If I die, my son inherits everything.”
“And who do you think will inherit your son after your boyfriends are in prison where they belong?”
A cold fury sweeps through me, but there’s nothing I can do with a gun pressed to my spine, so I do what I do best.
I keep poking the bear.
“Maybe one of them will be your cellmate since I hear that’s where you’re heading too.”
“You think I’m worried about that?” Uncle Mars snaps back. “I have the best lawyers money can buy.”
“Oof.” I feign a wince. “I sure hope you didn’t buy those fancy lawyers with my stolen funds too. I’m told by my fancy lawyers that each count is worth a pretty good chunk of time.”
“Shut the fuck up already!”
There.
That’s it.
The opening that I’ve been waiting for when he lifts the gun to strike me.
I spin using the speed Khalil drilled into me and grab his raised arm before he can bring the gun down on my head.
It goes off during our struggle for control, and when Uncle Mars tries to slap me down with his free hand, I block the blow and send the heel of my palm into his nose, feeling it break.
He shouts as he stumbles back, and the shocked expression on his face would be comical if he weren’t still holding the gun.
My uncle seems to remember that it’s in his hand a moment later, and he swipes his bleeding nose as he regains his composure.
“I see you weren’t just out there lying on your back.
Too bad it won’t do you a damn bit of good. ” He raises the gun again.
Behind him, I see the door to the bathroom open slowly and a figure cast in shadow filling the entrance. The utter stillness is a dead giveaway, and I take one last look at my father’s twin, memorizing the lines of his face since it will be the last time I ever see it.
“I think,” I say slowly as I back away, “that you should really rethink hurting me.”
“The only thing I regret is telling my brother’s enemy where to find him,” he says. “If I’d known what a fucking headache you’d turn out to be, I never would have had him killed.”
“Killed,” I gasp more than say as the room begins to spin. “It was you? You’re the reason?”
“Your father didn’t give me any choice. I begged him to let me turn you into a star, but he didn’t care how much money you could make us, so…” My uncle shrugs. “He had to go. Your father was no saint, Aurelia. He had it coming, and now so do you.”
My mouth opens and I think I’ll scream, but instead, all I do is say his name. “Baaaane,” I cry out when my rage reaches its tipping point. My vision is blurred by tears now falling freely down my face, but I can still make out the alter’s indistinct shadow looming over my uncle.
I hear a sickening crunch and then the gun falling to the ground as my uncle’s chilling screams fill the dark hallway.
I blink the tears away and my vision clears enough to see Seth’s hunting knife embedded to the hilt in my uncle’s wrist, but that’s not all.
Uncle Mar’s bare arm has been split open from shoulder to wrist in a gory display of violence.
Bane removes the knife just as my gaze drops to the discarded gun. I could go for it, but shooting my uncle after what I just learned would be too good a death for him.
“No,” I say to Bane when he moves to plunge the knife into his chest.
Bane’s eyes rise to meet mine in the dark, and he almost looks like he won’t stop until he drops his hand and shoves my uncle into the wall. He holds him there, and with my eyes on my struggling uncle, I reach under my gown and quickly free my own knife strapped to my thigh.
“You,” I say with rage riding every letter as I come to stand before him, “will never take another thing from me, Uncle. And I will never give you a single thought after tonight. Not one.”
“You—”
Whatever venom my uncle was ready to spew is cut short when I drag the knife across his throat.
He chokes on his own blood before falling to his knees, and when our eyes meet one last time, I release a guttural scream and drive my knife through his eye.
Filled with grief and sorrow and hatred, I stab his face over and over until he’s unrecognizable.
Until I’m bathed in his blood and my rage, and he no longer looks like my father.