54. Reed
Heated voices drag me out of sleep, and at first I think I’m dreaming.
The words are muffled by the bedroom door, blending together in a haze of pain and exhaustion.
I almost forget everything that happened this weekend, but then I try to move and agony floods my system in a ruthless reminder.
I lick my lips, tasting the cracked blood, and wince a little.
The voices continue and I strain myself, trying to hear whoever is out there, as I push up out of bed, but I can’t make it out.
I gently pull on a sweater before I open my door, until one of the voices becomes unmistakable. “Why the fuck are you here? Shouldn’t you be dealing with the fallout?” Wilder asks as I slowly start to move, and the voice that responds belongs to his cousin.
“I already did,” Caden replies, not sounding anywhere near as stressed as Wilder does, and for some reason that unsettles me.
The smell of coffee hits me as Wilder snaps back, “The way you dealt with Jason?”
I have no idea what they are talking about, but the second I appear in the hallway entrance, the silence between them is instant.
Wilder, who'd been leaning against the counter with a coffee mug in his hands, straightens so quickly he almost spills it all over himself.
Caden doesn't move though, he's calmly stirring milk into a mug, as though he spends every morning here in the middle of my kitchen. Still, the two of them look suspicious.
Fuck, did something happen?
“What’s going on?” I demand, and though Caden seems unbothered, Wilder looks stressed, as he takes a step toward me, setting down his coffee.
“Maybe you should sit down,” Wild says with a gentle smile, and panic takes over every part of me.
“Why?” I force the word out, running through all the possible scenarios in my head, as a knot forms in my stomach. “Did you find Eloise? Is Freddie okay?”
Wilder opens his mouth to respond, but Caden beats him to it. “I killed your father,” he states matter-of-factly, before taking a slow sip of his drink, and then looking at it with a frown.
I stare at him in disbelief, as Wilder closes his eyes and curses. “For fuck’s sake, Cade, you really need to stop doing that.”
Caden raises an eyebrow at him. “Doing what?”
“Saying catastrophic things with absolutely no warning.”
“I simply answered his question.”
“You could've eased into it!”
“There wasn't much easing available.”
They argue between themselves at rapid speed, as I look between them both, almost sure there is some joke that has gone over my head.
“I don’t,” I shake my head, trying to make sense of this. “I don’t understand.”
Again Wilder goes to speak, but Caden beats him to it.
“He was hurting you, and no matter what deal you made, he was going to hurt you again, and your brother, so I killed him.” He shrugs, setting his mug down.
“Have you got any caramel by the way?” There is nothing but sincerity in his tone, and again I feel like I’m lost.
“What?”
“Caramel, for my latte,” he confirms, glancing around the kitchen.
“I found vanilla, but I really do prefer caramel.” Wilder pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation, but I really can’t make sense of anything I am hearing right now, and finally Caden sighs.
“Maybe you really should sit down,” he suggests, but I shake my head.
“My father is dead?” I ask, and he nods. “And you killed him?” Another nod. “Why?”
This time it’s Caden who looks confused.
“Because he was hurting you.” He says the words slowly, as if he were talking to a child, and honestly right now, I think I need it.
“I’ve been looking into him for a while, and aside from all his other crimes, I don’t take kindly to people who hurt children. ”
His response only invokes more questions, as I try and fail to make sense of what is going on. “You were looking into him? Why?”
“Because Wilder asked me to.”
At that my stare snaps to Wilder, who looks beyond pissed at his cousin, and when I search his eyes, all he does is shrug.
“I didn’t want him to hurt you again.” The way he says the words lets me know he put this into motion all the way back in Zurich, when he patched up my wounds for the first time.
Even now he is watching me carefully, as if he is waiting to catch me if I fall, and I can’t say I blame him.
It’s like I can feel myself drifting somewhere else, back to my father’s office, or his den, my bedroom, the pool house.
Place after place, where countless violence occurred, mostly when I was still a child, and I search for some sign of distress at the news Caden just shared, but I come up empty.
I should feel something, right? Shock? Pain? Heartbreak?
Someone just told me that my father is dead, that they killed him, and I don’t feel anything akin to grief.
All I feel is relief.
A lifetime of fear has ended in a single morning, and I don’t even know how to come to terms with it. “You killed my father,” I repeat the words, letting them fully take hold of me. “My father is dead.” I’m not sure if I am questioning him, or trying to convince myself, but still Caden nods.
“They will say it’s a suicide due to his business dealings, but there will still be an investigation.” Then he checks his watch. “In fact, the police should be here any minute.”
I open my mouth to ask how he even did this, when there is a firm knock at the door, to which Caden only smiles in satisfaction.
“I’ll get it,” Wilder grumbles, glaring at his cousin, but Caden only moves to add some vanilla to his latte, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.
I, however, start to fall into a world of panic. “Wilder,” I stammer out, my pulse now hammering in my chest.
My father is dead and we have his fucking killer in my apartment, and now the police are here. What the fuck are we going to do?
No words come out when Wilder looks at me, but he nods reassuringly. “It’s okay, Blue, we’ve got this.”
He moves to open the door, revealing two officers standing in the hallway, both wearing that careful and practiced neutral expression that is reserved for delivering bad news.
It’s only at the sight of them that the gravity of this situation truly begins to take hold, and my heart starts hammering hard in my chest.
“Mr. Lamont?” They address him, but Wilder shakes his head, stepping aside,
“He’s in here, please come in.”
Both officers glance past him, their eyes sweeping across the apartment until they land on me.
I’m not sure what they must think given my current state, and I try not to panic, considering both Wilder and Caden seem completely at ease.
One of the officers steps further into the apartment, his eyes moving to settle on Caden, and he pauses for half a second.
Not long enough for it to be truly noticeable, but still I see a flash of recognition.
Fuck. They’re onto him.
Caden simply raises his coffee mug in greeting. “Morning officers,” he beams, and again Wilder glares at him.
Silence greets him, before the younger officer clears his throat, focusing on me. “Mr. Lamont?” he confirms, looking as uncomfortable as I feel, and I nod, not trusting myself to say a word.
Not when I know what they are going to say.
Not when the reason is sitting right here in this room.
Something I still can’t get my head around.
“We're very sorry to inform you that your father passed away earlier this morning.” I almost laugh at their words, because if they truly knew anything about my father, there wouldn’t be any apologies.
“My father is dead,” I say again, the words sounding worse every time I say them, and the officer nods. “What happened?” I ask, my voice shaking, and the two of them share a look.
“We are still investigating, but it appears he may have shot himself, we’re waiting for the coroner's report to confirm.” I nod along slowly to his words, trying and failing to appear calm, especially when one of them pulls out a small notepad. “We just need to ask you a few questions.”
Panic curls in my gut as Caden pushes toward us, but instead of any kind of outburst, he strolls casually over to the officers. “Can I get you boys a coffee?” he asks, his voice startling them both with his proximity, and I swear I see one of their hands flex, as if wanting to reach for their gun.
Do they know what he did?
Or can they just sense that he is dangerous?
“No, thank you,” the older one replies, focusing back on me, but the younger one appears to be on edge.
The questions they ask are pretty basic.
When did I last see my father, how was his mood, was I aware of any stress he was under.
I answer them honestly, surprised that nothing about the questioning feels aggressive.
If anything, the officers seem desperate to be done, both of them taking turns glancing toward the kitchen, where Caden once again retreated.
The man in question is frothing milk, making himself entirely at home as he makes himself another latte. When he notices them staring he smirks. “Are you sure I can’t make you boys one?” His question is followed by uncomfortable silence, before they focus back on their interview.
They go through the next steps, and give me their card in case I later think of anything I haven’t thought of. “My condolences, Mr. Lamont,” the older one says, climbing to his feet, and I force a weak smile.
“Thank you.”
Both officers turn toward the door, and Caden lifts his mug as they exit. When the apartment door clicks shut behind them, Wilder turns to glare at his cousin again, but all I can do is let myself drop back down to the sofa, ignoring them both.
“I can’t believe this is happening.” I don’t mean to voice the thought out loud, but I can’t help it, this is fucking insane. “I need to…” I trail off, not even knowing what I need, not when I feel like I can hear my own heartbeat.
Wilder moves toward me. “Blue,” he says tentatively, but I shake my head, as everything crashes together all at once.