Chapter 33 #3
‘But where would I go? I’m not leaving you.’
‘Scarlett—’
‘She’s right,’ Jackson says, sliding into the driver seat and opening the glove box. ‘He could be anywhere. We don’t know that he’s here. She’s safer with us.’
That should probably make me feel better. It doesn’t. All I can think is that he’s out there. Pearson ruined Gregory’s life. He murdered my dad. Now he’s coming for us.
Gregory grabs my hand and pulls me forcibly from the Bentley. ‘Stay by my side. Don’t leave my side. Do you hear?’
‘Yes,’ I croak through my dry throat.
Jackson removes a black, leather box from the glove compartment and takes what I recognise from movies to be a Glock.
This can’t be real.
Jackson leads, holding the gun by his side.
Gregory pulls me with them by my hand, his determination the only thing making my hollow legs move.
I follow, turning my head left, right, as far back as it will go.
At the vestibule door, we line up, our backs against the garage wall.
Jackson clicks the safety off the Glock as he slowly moves towards the busted door.
I swallow vomit that rises to my mouth.
He kicks the door open then jumps through, turning left and right, poised to fire. He gestures for Gregory and me to step into the vestibule then radios Romeo One for a time check.
‘Ten minutes.’
Then there’s a heavy, wet breath on the line. It doesn’t speak but its presence is real. Something tells me it’s Pearson. If he’s jacked into the channel now, he could’ve been following our moves all night.
He’s here.
Instinctively, I grip Gregory’s hand.
‘Keep breathing, Scarlett,’ he says as calmly as the situation will allow.
I nod but I’m beginning to feel light-headed, slipping in and out of reality.
Jackson punches the button for the lift and holds the gun in front of him with two hands, ready for whatever waits behind the metal doors. He ushers us into the lift and takes one more look around the vestibule.
We’re silent as we rise to the sixty-fourth floor, the only noise coming from the whir and crank of the suspension cables. The sound of my own breath resonates in my ears. I hold a hand against my chest to keep it from exploding.
The lift pings and I think I could cry. I close my eyes as the doors begin to crawl open. Jackson leaps out and jumps left to face the double apartment doors.
‘Wait here,’ Gregory says.
‘No, I’m coming,’ I say.
He doesn’t argue but he doesn’t hold my hand either. His fists are clenched, his torso rigid. The apartment doors are ajar and the floor sensor lighting is dimly glowing blue. He’s in there.
Jackson motions for us to stand behind the left door. He moves to the right and raises his gun with two hands. I jump and maybe scream when he kicks open the door. In a split second, there’s a muffled shot, a yell and Jackson’s body thuds to the ground. ‘He’s in! He’s in!’ Jackson shouts.
Gregory leaps towards Jackson. There’s a pool of blood already forming beneath his leg. Gregory pushes both hands against his thigh.
‘Leave it! Get him!’ Jackson yells through gritted teeth.
Gregory glances at me, then at Jackson. I want to tell him not to go but the words don’t leave my mouth. There’s a loud bang then the sound of breaking glass from one of the doors off the lounge – the bathroom. Gregory runs towards the sound.
Without thinking, trembling and frantic, I pull my arms from my coat and bend down to tuck it under Jackson’s bleeding leg.
Using the sleeves, I tie a tourniquet. Jackson winces but doesn’t tell me to stop.
Another bang sends my body jolting. I shift to look toward the bathroom.
Thrashing. More glass shatters. The sound of struggle continues.
Then the gun that shot Jackson slides into the lounge with the power of a kick. Gregory and Pearson burst through another door into the gym, tussling, gasping, brutally fighting for their own lives.
‘Scarlett, look at me,’ Jackson says.
I look at him and try to breathe. My heart is thudding against the bones of my chest.
‘I need you to take my gun, Scarlett. Take the gun.’
I move down the two steps onto the floor of the lounge, as if it’s not really Scarlett Heath in my skin, adrenalin coursing through my veins, and retrieve Jackson’s gun.
‘Look at me. The safety is off. The safety is off and it’s ready to fire. Use two hands, Scarlett, and only fire if you need to. Only fire if you have a clear shot.’
My eyes burn. ‘I can’t.’
There’s another crash. Gregory and Pearson burst from the gym into the lounge. There’s a thick chain around Gregory’s neck and Pearson grips each end tightly from behind, strangling him. Gregory thrusts his elbow back three times into Pearson’s ribs. Pearson falls but doesn’t let go of the chain.
It’s happening so fast. I need to help him .
Gregory falls back on top of Pearson and with that leverage, his father pulls tighter. Gregory yanks at the chain, his nails breaking his flesh, and tries to use his legs to bounce out of his father’s grip but he’s stuck. His face is red. Each sinew and muscle in his neck and face is strained.
‘He’s killing him!’ Jackson shouts.
Gregory flips them both, so he’s face down with Pearson on his back. He jabs an elbow into his father’s throat, sending him crashing back.
There’s blood on the floor and I can’t tell who has the wound; they’re both smeared with crimson.
Gregory pounces, trapping Pearson’s arms beneath the weight of his legs.
Then he grabs him by the neck and digs his thumbs into his trachea.
Pearson kicks but Gregory strikes his face with a punishing fist.
My eyes are wide, shocked and panicked, as I watch Gregory strangle his father with bare hands.
Pearson struggles, his legs kicking and squirming on the ground. His body jerks. Once. Twice.
Then he’s still.
Gregory slumps back against the wall, one leg straight, the other bent. He unbuttons his shirt while he catches his breath.
All I can do is watch him, unable to move.
He looks at me, then Jackson, and crawls towards us. ‘Can you stand, Jackson?’
‘Yes. Help me.’
I’m looking beyond Gregory and Jackson to the evil bastard on the ground.
Pearson’s leg flinches. I slowly walk towards him and raise the Glock in front of my eyeline with two hands. My body moving on autopilot.
My arm shakes under the weight of the gun and what I know I’m going to do.
Suddenly, Pearson throws his hand sideways, picks up his own gun and points it at Gregory.
I have no time to think. I pull the trigger.
The bang brings with it an image of the boy from my dreams, holding my dad’s hand. They’re happy, playing in the rocks by the sea, but the attacker is there too. Then Dad is alone, dead in a hospital bed.
I open my eyes to see blood pooling around the devil’s head and splattered on the white walls.
This is it.
This is what it looks like. Revenge.
A father for a father. A father for the life of a son. A father for the man I love.
I drop the Glock to the floor and fall to my knees, turning my hands in front of my face as though they’re someone else’s. Then I stare at the dead body, now floating on a red river, a neat hole through one side of his head.
‘I killed him,’ I say, barely audibly.
I watch the pool of blood continue to expand.
Gregory is on his feet. I’m vaguely aware of two men leading Jackson towards us. Their voices warped and indecipherable.
The sweetest smell of flowers, fully bloomed lilies, fills my nose.
I look around me but can’t locate a vase.
A distorted face moves close to me, so close, it terrifies me.
And it’s staring right into my eyes. I flop my head to one side to see if I can work out whose face is in front of me but I can’t and it’s bright, so bright, a mix of bright colours.
Those colours are moving, spinning. The movement and the sickly sweet smell of lilies forces me to retch and retch again, a heave so hard, it tears my insides. Vomit projects from my mouth.
I’m cold. My body trembles, then I’m shaking uncontrollably. Until I’m moving through the air, weightless.
The distorted voices become sharper until I can make out some words. The room stops turning and colours separate into distinct lines. I’m on a sofa. Something warm, a hand perhaps, strokes my hair. There’s a face in front of me. A man. Slowly, the blurred face comes into focus. I recognise it.
‘Gregory.’
Sitting up, I wait as first Gregory then the rest of the room comes back to normal.
‘Give her this,’ Jackson says, handing Gregory a small glass of liquor.
I take it from him and sip. The brandy burns my sore throat.
‘Scarlett, I need you to listen to me,’ Gregory says. ‘Can you do that? Can you listen to me?’
I nod.
‘When we came home, we noticed the tyres of the Mercedes had been slashed. The door from the basement into the building had been broken into. Are you with me?’
‘Yes.’
‘Jackson put out but it was going to be at least half an hour. We all took the lift to this floor. When we got out of the lift, it was apparent the apartment had been broken into. The door was ajar. Jackson kicked open the door and was immediately shot at. Okay?’
‘Okay.’
‘Tell me what I just told you.’
I repeat Gregory’s explanation verbatim.
‘Pearson ran into another room but we knew he had a gun. You tended to Jackson and I ran to get a gun from my safe. It was the only way we could frighten him because he had a gun. Yes?’
‘Yes.’
‘I went to find him. I found him in the bathroom and he came straight at me with glass. He managed to dig the glass into my side. That’s how I have this.’
He moves his hand from a wound just below his ribcage.
I wince at the sight of blood, congealed and dark.
‘When he attacked me, I dropped my gun. I managed to kick the gun from his hand. We were tussling and ended up in the gym. He threw a chain around my neck. We struggled and I thought he was going to kill me. We were on the floor and that’s when I saw the gun.
I had no choice. It was self-defence. I picked up the gun and shot him in the head. ’
‘But—’
‘Scarlett!’ he shouts, pulling a hand roughly through his hair. ‘That’s what happened. Say it!’
‘But—’
‘Scarlett! Say it!’
He’s trying to protect you. I stare at the thick, angry burn mark around his neck.
‘Scarlett!’ he yells, rattling my body with two hands on my shoulders.
Silent tears fall down my cheeks. ‘That’s what happened,’ I croak.
Gregory wipes away my tears with his thumbs. ‘Now tell me what happened,’ he says.
I tell him three times in his words what happened before the police arrive.