Chapter Twenty-Nine
Bellamy
It’s a beautiful May day in London. The sun is out and high in the sky, shining down on us and making all the colors around us seem brighter. After months of short, dreary days and gray or downright rainy skies, the city comes alive bathed under such spectacular weather.
I’m standing in the kitchen of our home, staring out of the bay of windows at our massive garden.
My phone rings.
I answer without bothering to look at the caller ID.
“You can’t keep calling.”
“Ugh, come on . I need to know all the deets,” Thayer pleads. “What are they doing?”
I turn away from the window and the scene I was watching, walking further into the kitchen.
“I’m not going to spy on them, Thayer.”
“And why not?”
“It’s an invasion of their privacy!”
She makes an affronted noise. “See, this is why I knew we should have done this at my house.”
“We couldn’t do it at your house. Your husband is there.”
“Okay, fine. But next time we do this, I’m finding a way to kick him out. Clearly you can’t be trusted to be a good informant.”
I roll my eyes. “Please, they’re not even doing anything that interesting. Rhodes just has her sitting on his handlebars while he cycles arou—”
“Hold up. I thought you said you weren’t spying.”
“Well, I–I’m not,” I sputter. “I can’t help it if they’re doing this stuff in front of my window .”
“Oh my god, you’re totally spying. Fantastic, this is exactly the version of you I needed to show up today. Tell me everything,” she asks excitedly. “Did you just say he was cycling around with Ivy on his handlebars? That’s so cuuuuute.”
I laugh into the phone, turning back towards the windows just in time to see the bike hit a rock. Rhodes brakes suddenly, hands squeezing the handlebars tightly, and Ivy goes flying off.
My heart momentarily stops in my chest as I watch her fall. Thankfully, she doesn’t go far. She lands a foot away from where the bike abruptly stopped.
I’m about to tell Thayer what happened when Rhodes throws himself off the bicycle and tosses it aside like it personally offended him.
In an instant he’s on his knees in front of Ivy, his face twisted with worry and his hands clutching her leg. She looks more startled than hurt, her gaze tracing over Rhodes as he caresses her knee.
“I mean, truly adorable behavior,” Thayer continues, unaware of what I’m watching develop in front of me. “He must get it from you. Lord knows Rogue’s cute side is limited on a good day and entirely suppressed on every other day.”
The connection between Rhodes and Ivy has been evident to everyone in our friend group since they both learned how to walk. Who knows, it might actually have started before then had their inability to physically go to each other not been a barrier.
Rogue is a vocal supporter of this connection, finding quite a bit of humor in his son’s obsession with his best friend’s daughter. Rhys, on the other hand, has a decidedly frostier approach to the entire thing. Short of hissing at Rhodes when he gets within a ten-foot radius of his little girl, he’s done everything else to keep them apart when they’re not with the larger group.
A month ago, I asked Rhodes what he wanted for his upcoming twelfth birthday. I expected an extravagant request in line with what I’d heard other boys in his class had asked for. Instead, he’d looked up at me with those big green eyes, the same as his father’s, and he’d told me the only thing he wanted was to invite Ivy over so they could play, just the two of them.
I thought my heart might burst with affection and pride. When I told Thayer, she’d had a similar reaction. I think the echoes of her cooed “aww” might have reached as far up as Scotland. Together, we’d maneuvered to set this playdate up without telling her husband—who would have outright refused— or mine—who wouldn’t have been able to resist gloating in his best friend’s face.
Rhys was told that Ivy was with Suki at Nera’s and Rogue was dispatched to the movies and then the park with our other children.
“Don’t hold out on me, B. What are they doing now?” Thayer asks.
I chuckle at her nosiness. It took firm negotiations on my part to keep Thayer at home instead of face glued to the windows of my veranda, hand buried in a bag of popcorn watching this afternoon unfold as she’d originally intended.
But I didn’t want to make a show out of this, not when it was just a playdate and our husbands were already adding undue pressure. The children are young and they deserve the space to figure out what they mean to one another, whether that’s just being friends or eventually more.
From my position closer to the windows now, I have a better view and can see that Ivy appears to have a bloody knee. Her lips are twisted in a soft grimace but she’s not crying.
She’s tough as nails, always has been.
“Ivy fell off the bike.”
Thayer immediately shifts into protective mom mode. “What? Is she okay? Does she need me?”
“I think she’s okay. She’s— Oh.” I gasp. “Oh, wow .”
“What? What is it?”
“Hold on, let me take a picture. You are going to lose your mind.”
“You’re scaring me. Is she hurt?”
“That’s not it. Just look at your phone.”
“What— Oh .” She shrieks.
“My eardrum, Thayer!”
“Girl, swoon .”
“It’s even cuter in real life,” I tell her, watching as Rhodes marches towards the back of the house carrying a bemused Ivy cradled tightly in his arms.
He hasn’t hit puberty yet so he’s only a couple of inches taller than her. Carrying her must be costing him dearly, but he’s making it look easy. His face is set in a severe expression that only momentarily softens when his gaze sweeps over Ivy’s face, hardening once more when they catch on her bleeding knee.
His steps are determined as he makes the journey back to the house, never once flinching at the weight in his arms. When he’s only a couple feet away from the back door, I say, “I have to go, Thayer. Ivy looks fine but I want to make sure she’s okay.”
“Thank you,” she answers with a relieved sigh. “Keep me updated.”
“I will,” I promise, hanging up.
Walking up to the back door just as they reach it, I open it for them. “Hey, guys.”
“Mum,” Rhodes calls, an underlying frenetic note in his voice. “I hurt Ivy.”
“You—”
“No, you didn’t,” Ivy cuts in, shaking her head firmly. “I fell off the bike, Aunt B. It’s my fault, Rhodes shouldn’t get in trouble.”
“It was me.” I hadn’t noticed it before but Rhodes looks a couple shades paler than usual. “I wasn’t careful.”
“No one is getting in trouble,” I assure them. “Is your leg okay, Ivy?”
“Perfectly fine.”
Rhodes shakes his head. “She’s not fine. She’s… she’s bleeding .”
I place a comforting hand on my son’s shoulder. “We’re going to get it disinfected and patched up, don’t worry, darling.” I start to reach for her. “I can take her, I’m sure you’re tire—”
He steps back, pulling her out of my reach. “I can carry her. Just show me where you want me to put her down.”
“I can walk,” Ivy offers.
He narrows his eyes at her. “No, you can’t.”
She blinks at him, her cheeks turning a pretty pink color, but doesn’t argue.
“You’re a good friend, Rhodes. Come on, you can put her down here,” I say, tapping the counter with my palm.
It’s Rhodes’s turn to go red. It would go unnoticed by a stranger, but his loved ones know his ears turn red whenever he feels a strong emotion. Ivy’s eyes move over to his ears as well, not missing a thing.
Rhodes marches up to the counter and sets her gently down. It’s as he steps back that I notice the beads of sweat coursing down the back of his neck and his temple. He shakes out his arms surreptitiously. Ivy doesn’t see it, but I do.
It’s as I thought—carrying her took a physical toll on him.
I set about getting the first aid kit and taking out the necessary items to clean Ivy’s wound as they continue talking to each other like I’m not there.
“I’m so sorry.”
“I told you, it’s not your fault. It was so fun, I’m getting right back on as soon as Aunt B is done cleaning me up.”
Rhodes stiffens. “No, you’re not.”
She lifts her chin defiantly at him. “I want to.”
“No.”
“You’re not the boss of me, Rhodes Royal. I’m getting back on that bike and you’re going to take me around like befo— ouch .”
Ivy winces when I apply the antiseptic to her cut. Rhodes takes a hacked step forward, his wild eyes pinned on her knee.
“That stings,” she whispers softly.
I pull the soaked cotton pad away from the wound. Looking up into her eyes, I find them glassy for the first time since she was hurt.
I’m about to offer apologies when Rhodes takes her hand, clutching her fingers in his with determined strength. I watch as he squeezes her palm and glances back at her.
“You’re the toughest girl I know. You’ve got this.”
Ivy’s tears disappear before they can fall, replaced with a smile that starts off small and grows until it stretches across her entire face.
She nods at me. “Go ahead, Aunt B. I’m ready.”
I bite back a smile. This would absolutely kill Thayer and there’s no way I’m going to do the story justice when I try to recreate it for her tonight.
I get back to work, disinfecting, drying, and eventually putting a Band-Aid over the cut on Ivy’s knee. Rhodes holds her hand the entire time and doesn’t say another word.
When I’m done, he looks up at her with those disarming eyes of his. “Can we watch a movie now? I’ll let you pick,” he adds, sweetening the deal. Then, softer, “Please.”
Her eyes stroke silently over his face. She must see the same worry in it that I do because she swallows and nods her agreement.
I’d anticipated that the afternoon might end there, so I say, “I put snacks in the cinema room if you want to go watch the movie there.”
“Thanks, Mum.”
The doorbell rings, surprising all three of us.
Rhodes throws me a questioning look when I sigh and shake my head.
“I think that might be your mom, Ivy. I told her you hurt your knee, I’m sure she wants to check that you’re okay.”
More like she wants to snoop on how the afternoon is going, but I can’t be mad. Having her here is going to make this experience that much more enjoyable. The woman is pure entertainment.
I head over to the door and open it without checking the cameras, already reprimanding her. “I knew you couldn’t resist getting involv—”
My words cut off abruptly when I find myself looking down the barrel of a gun. Confusion sweeps over me first, the cognitive dissonance of opening my front door to find a weapon brandished in my face rendering me dumb for a moment.
Then my gaze moves past the gun to the man holding it. Understanding and fear replace the confusion in one terrifying second.
Peter Gingrinch.
Peter, who was supposed to be in prison for at least eight more years. Peter, whose wealth and influence bought him a reduced sentence and early release based on good behavior.
Rogue was right and I should have listened, but it’s too late for that now.
I immediately bar the door with my arms, trying to close it behind me so he can’t come in. There’s no fear for myself, only for the two kids who are just inside. I don’t believe in god, but I find myself praying that they’ll go to the cinema room. That they won’t come after me. That Peter will never know they’re there.
“What the hell do you want?”
His jaw twitches, his face contorting in an angry rictus. Veins throb in his temple, rendering him even uglier than usual. “Nothing’s changed. You’re still the same entitled bitch I remember.”
“And you’re still the same spineless coward who can only pick fights with those more defenseless than them. Doesn’t your back hurt from bending over to punch this low?”
I bite back a gasp when he presses the gun to the middle of my forehead. Bringing his face inches from mine, he sneers, “Doesn’t your mouth hurt from saying stupid shit that’ll get you killed?” He licks his lips, bringing his gaze down to mine. “There are so many better uses for it too.”
Ice chills my spine and I have to repress a shiver. I’d rather he just kill me now then try and put his hands on me.
He pushes the barrel into my forehead to try to force me back into the house, but I won’t go. Not when that’ll bring me closer to the kids.
“ Move ,” he orders.
“No.”
“Do you think I won’t do it? You think I won’t shoot you in the fucking head?”
I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to buy more time, how to get him away from my house, from my k—
“Mum?”
My eyes close. A garbled sound of defeat rolls up my throat. My stomach plummets and constricts, fear taking hold of my insides and squeezing with deadly intent.
Peter sneers. “ Mum ? Now that’s an unexpected but exciting development.”
“Go to the cinema room, Rhodes!” I shout without turning. Addressing Peter, I add, “Leave him alone. He has nothing to do with this.”
The expression on his face contorts into a twisted, cruel smile. Before he can say anything, I feel the door open up further behind me.
I extend my arms to either side of me and place my body between Peter and my son, shielding Rhodes from his gaze.
“Go back inside,” I hiss.
Peter moves so fast that I don’t have time to brace myself before the gun is brought down on my temple. I cry out and fall to one knee, clutching my head.
Small hands grab my shoulders. “Mum!”
The terrified tenor of Rhodes’s voice slices a wound inside me that’s much more painful than the throbbing in my head.
I clutch my head, whimpering. “Leave, Rhodes. Run .”
“Stay.”
Blood trickles down my forehead and over my brow, dripping steadily onto my cheek. I lift my head and glare back at Peter. Horrifyingly, his eyes aren’t on me.
They’re on my son.
“Stay,” he repeats. He raises his gun and points it at Rhodes who recoils. “You’ve just made my plans significantly more interesting, little boy.”
“Let him go,” I plead, fear icing the blood in my veins. “I’ll do whatever you want, but please, please let my son go.”
Instead of answering me, Peter watches as Rhodes comes out from behind me. He positions himself in front of where I’ve fallen, his shoulders rolled back and tight.
“I’m not a little boy and I’m not going to let you hurt my mum,” he announces.
My brave Rhodes. As brave and protective of his father.
“Who are you and what do you want with her?”
I wrap my arms around him from behind and try to pull him down into me, but he won’t let me.
“Rhodes… Don’t .”
The blow to my temple is making my head spin. I’m dizzy and my brain feels addled. Nausea rolls up the length of my throat until I feel like I’m going to be sick. A cold sweat breaks out on my forehead, my vision tunnels, and I have to fight the creeping oblivion.
“And who is this ?”
I follow Peter’s gaze where it’s pinned somewhere above my left shoulder, instinctively knowing the situation is about to take yet another turn for the worst. I find Ivy standing in the doorway behind me, a look of shock twisting her features as she tries to make sense of the scene unfolding before her.
She stammers, her voice small and unsure. “Aunt B… What…”
Peter moves his gun from my son to Ivy and Rhodes goes crazy. “Let me go, Mum.” He thrashes in my arms, throwing his body every which way to try to free himself from my hold. “ Mum !” He rips at my hands, his fingers digging into my skin. “Stop, please. Let me go .”
I release him, hoping that he’ll go to Ivy and run. He lunges for her, but Peter gets there first. With a shove of his hand, he pushes Rhodes out of the way, sending him flying down the front steps.
I scream, too weakened by the violent blow to be able to move. Stars appear before my eyes and I blink them away, bathing my eyes in blood in the process.
“Rhodes…” I call out weakly, trying to hold on to my consciousness.
Rhodes tumbles down to the fifth and final step and pops easily back to his feet, apparently unharmed. His face is determined, his expression angry as he immediately lunges up the stairs once more.
But it’s too late.
Peter has Ivy in his hold before Rhodes has even cleared the first step. She cries as his hand wraps around her upper arm, his fingers digging mercilessly into her flesh. His hand is so large, it closes entirely around her small bicep.
She fights, kicking and screaming. When she feels cold metal touch the spot at the back of her neck, she freezes instantly. Her eyes widen, colliding with Rhodes’s.
He stops in his tracks, his hands going up.
“Please don’t hurt her.” His eyes are wild, darting from Ivy to Peter and down to me, unsure where to focus is panic.
I try to stand so I can help him, hating how defenseless I am. Both of my palms are on the ground and I’m pushing myself up when Peter pistol whips me a second time.
There’s nothing I can do to fight this blow.
I fall in a pile of bones, rolling onto my back.
Rhodes’s terrified scream echoes in my ears. “ Mum! ”
Almost like they’re weighted with anvils, my eyelids close against my will. I manage to blink them a few more times, but the effort to keep the void at bay is monumental.
“Let Ivy go,” Rhodes demands.
“No.”
Blink .
Rhodes shakes under the weight of his anger. “What do you want?”
“Revenge.”
“Why?”
“Your dear old mum here ruined my life.”
The fucking liar .
“I was going to kill her, but now I see there’s something that’ll destroy her and your family even more. And it’s this little girl right here.” He shakes a boneless Ivy who gives a pained whimper. “You both seem to care very much about her. She’s coming with me.”
“You can’t take her!” Rhodes springs into action. He leaps forward but falls back when Peter kicks him in the chest.
“No…” I whisper, the one syllable barely intelligible.
I should have let this playdate happen at Thayer’s house. I should never have opened the door. I should have checked the cameras. I should have immediately punched Peter in the face once I saw who it was.
I should have...
I failed. I failed. I failed.
Blink .
“Please…” I beg as Rhodes scrambles back up to his feet.
“ Shut up ,” Peter hisses at me. “Shut the fuck up before I change my mind and put a bullet in your skull.”
“You can’t take her,” Rhodes repeats more vehemently.
“Rhodes, I’m scared,” Ivy whispers, tears streaming down her face.
Blink.
My eyelids feel like they weigh a hundred tons, my blinking getting progressively more frequent as darkness calls to me.
“I am taking her,” Peter announces, voice devoid of all emotion.
Rhodes climbs the final step until he’s standing in front of Peter. He doesn’t flinch as the gun comes to him.
“If you’re taking her, take me too.”
Blink … Blink… Blink…
“Rhodes… No ,” I manage to utter.
He ignores me.
Blink .
His chin goes up. “I’m not letting you take her without taking me too.”
Peter’s cruel smile stretches sinisterly until he laughs, the sound spine-chilling.
Blink .
“If you want to die too, I can make it happen.”
Blink.
“ NO! ” My scream sounds louder than what I’m capable of right now. I realize it’s because Ivy’s voice joined mine, horror at Rhodes’s offer bleeding into her tone just like it did mine.
Peter waves the gun, urging Rhodes to follow him down the stairs.
“I’m sorry, Mum. I’m so sorry,” Rhodes whispers as he walks past me.
I see he’s not crying.
He’s scared and determined and the combination destroys me.
“Please…”
Rhodes is at the bottom of the stairs when he turns around. His eyes are glassy now.
“Dad will save you. I know he will.” He starts crying. “Please don’t die.”
Blink .
This time, my eyes don’t reopen. Before I go, my last thoughts are whether I’ll ever wake up again and, if I do, whether my son and my best friend’s daughter will both be dead.
Darkness takes me and I lose consciousness
A single tear slips down my cheek.
***