Chapter 50
50
Tovah
A be Silver had Isaac’s eyes. They were the same brown, the same shape. But where Isaac’s eyes could be warm, or cold, depending on his emotions, there was something off with Abe’s. I didn’t remember him that way; when I was young, he’d been scary, but he’d seemed sane. Not so much now.
He was waiting in the foyer when I arrived. I’d broken a million traffic laws on I-81 South to get here, and then a million more in the city itself, but I’d made it in under four hours.
“Impressive timing,” Abe said when he opened the door. “I like punctuality.”
I ignored his attempt at cordiality. “Where’s my mom?”
“Oh, don’t you worry about that,” he said easily. “You’ll be joining her promptly. But first, I’d like to talk to you about my son.”
“And I’d like to see how my mother’s doing.” I responded in the same easy tone, even if inwardly, I wanted to punch this asshole in the balls.
His easy tone disappeared. “Let me explain something to you. You are not in control here, I am. You have no power, no leverage, no nothing. I will tell you what to do, and you will do it, understand me?”
His son had said something similar to me, once. I was sick of men thinking they were in control, thinking they could say jump and I’d say how high. In that moment I decided that I wasn’t only getting my mom out of here alive, I was getting myself out, too.
But Abe would die.
I fingered the blade in my pocket. Isaac shaved with a straight razor, and I’d pocketed one before I’d left.
After all, I’d killed a tyrannical asshole once, and I’d been a young kid.
I was bigger now, stronger, smarter.
I could do it again.
I didn’t say anything though, other than, “after you,” and followed him through the hallway into the sitting room, which looked exactly the same as it had when I was young.
“Take a seat,” he said, all affability and cordiality again. Warily, I sat in a white armchair my mother had probably dusted and spot cleaned multiple times.
My mother. She was somewhere on the compound, and I had to get to her.
He joined me in the opposite armchair, taking a seat and crossing his leg over his knee.
“Tovah, my son is a man at war with himself. Part of him is ruthless, ambitious, and will do anything for the bottom line, whatever that may be. I’m sure he’d even kill for it.” He laughed. “But the other part of him? It resists it. That’s why he’s always so charming, so kind, so gracious to fans. He’s too much like his mother that way. She always hated the violence in our world, too. Isaac tells himself he can’t fall prey to it, that if he embraces his dark side, he’ll lose himself. He doesn’t realize he’s already found an outlet for it in hockey.”
Abe shook his head. “No, he doesn’t see it. But it’s important he…make peace with his dark side, because one day he’ll pick up the mantle and take his place as the head of this family, and he’ll need to use that violence and ruthlessness to protect this family and everything we’ve been building for two generations.”
I already knew this. Most of it. Isaac had told me parts, and the other parts I’d seen for myself.
“The problem, you see,” Abe continued, clearly not caring at my lack of participation, “is that Isaac is grasping the softer side of his persona too tightly. His caring, his concern, his protectiveness. And while he’s grown darker, and I do believe I have you to thank for that, he also has too much keeping him tethered to the light. I need to cut that string, so he fully embraces his role in this family.”
He eyed me up and down, and my skin crawled. It wasn’t sexual, it was worse. It was like he could see my corpse already.
“That string, Tovah, is you. And it’s time for me to cut it. I’m delighted because it does kill two birds with one stone, since you and your mother took someone very important from me. Your stepfather, you see, was like a brother. And while I know your mother was the one who killed him, you were an accessory to the crime and should be punished as such.”
He rose. I rose, too.
“You don’t know your son,” I told him. “He is fiercely loving; he is obsessively caring. He’s protective. He’s the best man I know.”
“Then you clearly haven’t known good men.”
“I didn’t. But I do, now.”
The moment stretched between us, and then he finally nodded, acknowledging it, before changing the subject.
“Now, would you like to see your mother?”
It was so tempting, to get close and slide the blade across his neck. But I had no idea where my mother was, and there were probably armed soldiers everywhere. No, I needed to wait for the right moment.
I followed Abe out of the house, down a path in a huge garden that I sometimes saw in my dreams. I’d played out here with Isaac, played “he loves me, he loves me not” with dandelions, and hid from my stepfather. There was no time for memory lane, though, when he stopped in front of a large building that looked like a garage.
A silent garage.
“In here,” he said.
I hesitated on the threshold. I had no idea what waited for me in there. It may not even be my mother. Most likely what waited for me was excruciating pain, maybe even the death Abe had threatened earlier.
But I had to find my mother. Had to save her.
Squaring my shoulders, I opened the door.
It was a torture chamber.
Sharp implements everywhere. Hooks hanging from the ceiling. Dried blood.
And my mother, at the center of the room, tied to a chair. Bruises covered her face, her body, and there was blood around her mouth.
She cried out as soon as she saw me. “Tovahleh, why are you here? Run!”
The man beside her cuffed her ear, and she yelped from the pain.
I took a step forward, only for Abe to stop me.
“Not so fast,” he scolded.
“Let her go. What will it take Abe?” I spoke through clenched teeth, fingering the blade in my pocket. “What will it take to let her go?”
He tsked. “That was never our deal. I’ll tell you what though, I won’t kill her, if you’re a good girl and go sit in the chair next to her. I have no need to kill either of you for now. I need to make sure my son sees it.”
“What makes you think he won’t kill you?” I asked him.
A strange look appeared in Abe’s eyes. “A father’s job is to sacrifice for his children.”
Oh god, he was insane.
But he was also distracted enough for me to do what I needed to do next. I pulled the blade out of my pocket…
“You know what, I won’t kill your mother,” he mused. “Instead, I’ll make the murderous cunt live with the grief. That’s a much better punish?—”
He didn’t finish the sentence, because I’d reached out and sliced his throat with the blade.
Blood appeared, and he staggered backward.
For a moment, triumph and hope bubbled in me, effervescent—and possibly na?ve. Had I solved our problems? If I could get mom and I out of here, would we finally be free?
But things were happening too quickly to indulge in that thought, even for a second. Especially when the man near my mother yelled and charged me. Charged with adrenaline and possibly the help of angels, I ducked below his arm and raced over to my mother.
Men filled the torture garage, crowding around Abe and barking orders at each other as they tried to staunch the bleeding. I wanted him dead. But I couldn’t finish the job, not when my mother was still tied to a chair and the easiest next target.
Running to her, my chest burning from fear, I worked on the knots keeping her trapped. The rope had been tied to tight, and there were red marks on her skin. I ignored them, trying to loosen the knots themselves. The rough rope burned my hands, rubbing my palms and fingers raw as I tried to find a slack spot to loosen them.
“Tovah, run ,” my mother coughed.
I shook my head, not bothering to reply to such a ridiculous request.
“Tovah,” she insisted. “I didn’t live this life to lose you. Go. ”
“No! I’m not leaving you,” I insisted, finally getting one knot undone and starting on the other.
And then there was a big hand squeezing my throat, grinding bones and skin. I couldn’t breathe. I was lifted into the air and dragged backward, my toes dragging on the ground.
I tried to scrabble against the floor, struggling to free myself, but I was no match for the stranger’s strength.
An unfamiliar voice whispered in my ear, “Oh, you shouldn’t have done that, little girl. No one touches the boss. Now we’re going to play.”
He squeezed my throat harder, choking me so hard my vision swam.
The last thing I heard was my mother screaming my name.
And then everything went dark.