Chapter Forty-Eight #2
“Hell of a way to go about it.” I check the water temperature. Have to make sure it doesn’t boil. Although I don’t really give a shit about feeding her properly prepared matcha, I don’t want her to find fault and lose control.
“Regardless of what you might think, I do still love Prescott. You hate my father because he didn’t put me in jail. I hate him for not having the guts to confront me. Instead, he took what I love the most from me. He doesn’t understand what it’s like. His stupid sons don’t know anything, either.”
Finally, the temperature is right. I carefully pour the water into a cup, add the appropriate amount of powdered green tea and start whisking.
“Because of him that I lost the love of my life to that cunt. I lost you to her!” Mom raises her voice shrilly. “She poisoned you against me!”
“You did that all on your own,” I mutter under my breath. I hand Mom the tea, then make myself a cup.
She holds the cup in both hands and stares at the frothy surface.
“He told me a year ago that he took my family away because I took away his. He blames me for Roland, you see. But is it my fault that Roland is weak and pathetic? He thinks he can be somebody, but he’s nothing.
Same for Harvey. They think they’re so clever, just because they were born with penises.
” She laughs, like it’s a particularly funny joke.
“But even now they’re drinking the poison I formulated specifically for them.
Actually, there might be enough accumulated in their bodies that it might be kicking in. ”
“And Vincent? Are you going to murder your own father?”
“Sweetheart, in our family it’s not murder. It’s clearing the path. We all must do what we must. He held me back, so I’m repaying his interference tenfold. He should thank me, really. Now he can go join that slut who bore him Roland.” Mom sneers, then soon smiles.
I hold my cup, warming my hands without drinking. She might’ve tampered with the matcha powder. Or just this cup.
“I killed her, too, by the way,” she adds, looking at me expectantly.
“Because she was in the way?” I say finally.
“No.” There’s a small scoff in her tone. “Because she annoyed me just by existing. She took far too much of Father’s time and attention.” A hint of jealousy seethes underneath her cold words. She can’t stand it that she had to share.
“Does Vincent know?”
“Maybe. But it doesn’t matter. He only cares about Roland, not some bimbo he banged a few decades ago.” She sips the tea. “Ugh, bitter. Why do you drink this dreck?” Despite the complaints, she sips some more.
Still, I don’t drink mine. She could’ve taken something earlier to make her immune to whatever she might’ve added to the matcha.
Her phone beeps shrilly four times. She checks the screen. A slow smile splits her face, revealing rows of bone-white teeth. “Oh, look. They all died of massive heart attacks.”
What?
“And then veins burst in their brains. How sad.” She faux-pouts. “Now I’m just a poor orphan. Even my unborn nephew is dead.”
I frown. “Unborn nephew?”
Mom blinks innocently. “Didn’t you know?
Kenna was pregnant with Roland’s son. She thought no one knew because she wasn’t really showing, but…
” A shrug. “I might’ve let her live if I could be certain that she wasn’t pregnant with a boy.
It’s so…complicating.” Mom smiles again.
“But no, I’m alone. Except for you, your brothers and your father.
I just need to get that bitch Akiko out of the way. ”
Madness dances in her eyes. The icy chill spreads until not even the tea can warm my hands.
She lives in her own world, believing only her version of reality.
She would never accept that none of us agrees with her.
She might even harm Klein and my sisters-in-law if her twisted logic decides they’re the threat to her idea of a “happy family.”
I’ll be damned if I’ll let her. Even if it costs my life, I’m going to keep my family safe. “What if I stop you?”
“Stop me from what?”
“Doing this. Hurting the family.”
She snorts. “Didn’t anybody teach you to love your mother?”
“They did. And I do love Akiko.”
She explodes to her feet. “She’s not your mother! I am!”
I jump to my feet as well. The water I left in the pot is now boiling. “She’s been a true mother to me, unlike you!”
“You stupid, ungrateful…!” She swings the gun up.
I go low and lunge at her. A loud gunshot, followed by a thud as Mom slams into the mat on her back and loses her grip on the gun. A metallic clatter, and she screams. The water in the kettle spreads all over the mat.
Yes!
I lunge for the gun, but she kicks it out of reach, then comes at me with surprising speed and power. A sharp sting on my arm. A gash forms on my arm and drips blood, dotting the floor crimson.
Surprised, I glance at her. She’s holding a small knife. “I always have a backup.”
I grab the copper pot and swing it as a makeshift weapon. It’s awkward, but better than getting sliced up. Her blue eyes glow as she lashes at me over and over again, each strike vicious. From the way her pupils are dilated, she must’ve taken something to improve her strength and speed.
“Close your eyes, Klein!” I call. This is going to get ugly and brutal.
Adrenaline pumping, I kick at Mom’s knee as she takes a swipe. The tip of the knife cuts through my forearm like butter. But my foot connects with her knee and something crunches.
Screaming, she loses her balance. I don’t bother to go for the gun. I launch myself at her, aiming my knee at her ribcage. She rolls out of the way and plunges the knife into my thigh. Out of reflex, I pull it out and stick it into the closest part of her I can reach.
She hollers. More blood than I ever imagined a human being can hold gushes out. I blink, dazed. I might’ve severed an artery.
Her complexion turns ashen. She opens and closes her mouth as though in disbelief. I shake as nausea roils in my gut. I can’t move or process. It doesn’t seem real.
Within a few minutes, the light in her eyes fades.
I stare at her for a moment, inhaling the metallic smell. I keep thinking she’s going to get back up, like some kind of horrible bleeding Terminator. She’s the kind of monster that never dies.
But she stays inert. My heart thuds, and I look down at the wound on my leg.
Thankfully she doesn’t seem to have hit anything critical, despite the burning sensation.
Part of me just wants to sit and breathe, but I shove it aside, standing and wincing when the pain radiates sharply.
I limp over to Klein, who’s watching me.
“Why didn’t you close your eyes?” I undo the gag.
As soon as the ball’s out of her mouth, she starts wheezing and coughing. “Careful,” she rasps. “Zoe hid a razor in the gag.”
I shiver at Mom’s depravity. No wonder Klein couldn’t say anything. I run a soothing hand along her back, then quickly untie her hands and feet.
She says, “And I kept my eyes open because I wanted to see it. We’ll share this moment—I’m not letting you carry the burden on your own.”
My hands begin to shake, and soon the rest of me follows suit. “Klein,” I say. I don’t know why, but hot tears drip from my eyes. My chest feels off. An inexplicable sorrow wells even as relief that it’s all over settles in my heart.
She wraps her arms around me. “I know. I’m here.” She places a kiss on my forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.”
I hold her close and weep until the backup finally arrives.