Chapter 42
SAGE
My whole body is screaming at me; my skin still feels like someone is holding a torch too close to me. The burning and stinging sensation travels through my whole body, and I can’t help the silent tears sliding down my check. Frankie is driving, but he won’t tell me where to. While in the hospital, he insisted I come home with him, but I knew my body was not ready to leave the hospital. I hesitated at first, especially after seeing that Frankie was in the van that tried to kill me. I wanted to oust him right there, expose him for who he truly is. Then he told me something that quickly changed my mind.
If you don’t come with me right now, Saxon and Saint will be dead in the next hour. I’ll make sure of that. So, I suggest you act normally and sign this release paper so we can leave. If you make a scene, they’re as good as dead.
I immediately signed myself out of the hospital against the doctor’s advice. There was no amount of pain that I could be in that would make me stay and take the chance of my family dying. Leaving the hospital, Frankie pushed me in my wheelchair to his waiting car. Putting me in the passenger seat, he then proceeded to place zip ties around my bandaged wrists.
“Is this entirely necessary? I mean, look at me Frankie,” I winced as he’d tightened the zip ties around my badly torn up, and heavily bandaged, wrists. He hadn’t answered me. Hell, he hadn’t even looked at me.
“Frankie, what’s going on? Why are you doing this?” I pleaded, as he got into the driver’s seat, starting the engine, and pulling out of the parking lot. Again, no answer, not even a small glimpse out of the corner of his eyes.
“Where are you taking me? Where are the guys?”
“Shut up, Sage. Please, just shut up.” His voice was pained, as if he was conflicted about what he was doing. A tone that displayed so much emotion, yet so little at the same time.
“Uncle Frankie, please. Are you in some type of trouble?” I’d lowered my voice in hopes that my smaller, childlike voice would crack the stone that had encased his once gentle heart. He didn’t answer again. I’d stared at the side of his face, his profile looking so much like my father’s it triggered a sharp pain in my chest.
“I can help you if you are—if you’d just tell me what’s going on?”
“Shut up!” he’d yelled, making me flinch in my seat. Gone was the calm, silly, caring, and generous uncle that briefly raised me. In his place sat a stranger, unrecognizable and tormented by his own actions. I wondered if who he was before was an act this whole time.
We have been sitting in silence since that outburst. I glance at Frankie again and try once more to get some answers. “Are you going to hurt me, Frankie?” I turn my head back to the front, staring out the windshield at the darkness outside. We are traveling towards the hills. Towards the canyons near the quarry. The one I loved to visit as a teen. I don’t know where he’s taking me, or if he’d truly going to hurt me. I have to assume yes, or why would he be doing this in the first place?
“Did you try to kill me that day? I saw you in the passenger seat of that van.” The air suddenly shifts; the weight of the world feels like it’s crashing down on me as the inside of the car begins shrinking around us. I know his answer, but when he finally speaks, it becomes so much more real.
“Just know, this is all your father’s fault. You can thank him soon enough.” I can’t form another question, a response, a retort—anything. I am completely speechless. What was my father’s fault?
We finally reach the end of the road at the top of Ruhn Canyon. A massive white, Mediterranean style mansion, with beautiful arches and gardens filled with luscious flowers of every color that line the exterior, comes into view. Greenery expands the length of one side, the vines climbing the architecture so perfectly it looks like this house is straight out of a magazine. The house is absolutely breathtaking, and I can’t stop staring. I don’t even notice the man who opens my door until it’s swinging open so abruptly, I jump in my seat.
Rough hands grab my shoulder, my skin burning beneath his grasp, and I groan in pain as he drags me out of the car.
“Don’t fucking touch her, Tim. I can get her.” Frankie’s voice comes from around the car. As the man drops his hands from my shoulders, I inhale a few deep breaths until the pain begins to subside a bit.
“Bring her inside,” Tim orders; my uncle gestures for me to follow the guy I know to be Mayor Harrison’s head of security. I follow slowly, taking in my surroundings and looking for any and all exits. Three men are positioned around the front of the home: one at the front door and the other two near the driveway. With the house sitting on the hill, there’s only one way to enter the estate, and that’s through the driveway. It would be fairly easy to see someone entering from quite a ways away. I can see the guards each have a pistol attached to their hips, and Tim has a small pistol tucked into the back of his pants.
I follow Tim into the open and elegant foyer, through a series of long hallways adorned with Mediterranean style decor and plush runner carpets that look to be brand new. We finally reach the end of the hallway that opens up into a massive conservatory-like room. The whole room is constructed with windows—the walls, the ceiling, everything. It allows me to see the night sky, which is speckled with bright, beautiful stars. I can’t help but admire it.
“Sit down.” Tim’s grumpy voice draws me from my trance. Annoyance quickly takes over my senses, and I give him a disgusted look.
“Watch yourself, girl.” I do as I’m told, taking a seat in one of the many plush white chairs that fill the room. Frankie walks up beside Tim and both of them start whispering so low I can’t hear. This only irritates me more.
“Why don’t you share with the room what you have to say, Frankie?” I know I’m playing with fire, but with the pain and the pure exhaustion, my attitude is harder to conceal. Both men look at me. Frankie gives me a look that screams “Shut the fuck up,” while Tim gives me a look that says “Your time is coming.” Like I said, I’d reached my limit of fucks to give the moment we left the hospital. Now, I’m just vexed. Pure rage and wrath course through my veins as I stare at my so-called uncle.
Without answering me, both men leave the room, leaving me alone with my hands still zip tied together, rubbing against my bandages, which inflames my road rash even more. There’s a door that leads to the back of the house from the conservatory. However, one of the men from the front of the house is now standing in front of it, looking out to the forest. That exit is a no go. I scan the room to see if there is anything I could use to free my hands or use as a weapon, but the room is fairly empty except for the six chairs that are placed sporadically throughout. There are two ways to enter or leave the room: one door at the far end of the room and another located at the opposite end. Large arches frame each opening, and I can’t help but admire the beauty of this home.
While searching the room, something catches my eye at the opposite entrance that we had entered previously. Not something, but someone. It’s a woman. A gorgeous older woman, with dark auburn hair, bright blue eyes that shine against the moon’s light, and her complexion is utterly flawless. She gestures for me to be quiet with a delicate finger pressed against her soft pink lips. She’s hiding from someone, no doubt Tim and Frankie, but then she lifts a piece of paper up with a black bold message written in smooth cursive.
They’re coming to rescue you. Stay calm. Everything will be okay.
I read and reread her message over and over again, hope suddenly restored with a simple message. I can’t help the small smile that touches my lips as I look back to the beautiful angel of a woman, and then it dawns on me.
“Gloria?” I whisper to her. She responds by nodding once and giving me a sympathetic smile that warms me from the inside out. No wonder my father liked this woman. I don’t even know her, but her presence alone makes me feel calm, serene, but most of all, safe, under the circumstances. I stare into her eyes for a long moment before she turns the paper over and starts writing another message on the back. Muffled noises fill the hallway where Frankie and Tim had disappeared to, and she writes faster. Finally, she caps her marker and turns her paper around for me to read.
I won’t let anyone hurt you. I promise.
I can’t help the tears that fill my eyes. I believe her. I’ve never met Gloria, or even knew of her existence, yet I believed with all my heart she would do anything and everything she could to protect me from her brother, my uncle, and possibly her own husband. As a single tear falls down my cheek, Gloria gives me a reassuring smile before the sound of footsteps reenter the room, and then she’s gone. Frankie, Tim, and Mayor Harrison are now in the room with me, staring down at me as if I’m a disease they don’t want to get too close to, for fear of contracting it.
“How much longer do you think it will be before he shows up?” Mayor Harrison says in his condescending, arrogant politician voice of his that makes my skin crawl.
“I’d assume not too much longer; they are insanely protective of her,” Frankie says, lifting his wrist and checking the time.
“Yeah, so protective they left her unguarded at the hospital, and that kid just let you take her. Some crew you got there, Frankie.” Tim cackles as he eyes me. I look at Frankie and can’t believe the man I’ve trusted my whole life is letting some hired security guard talk down about his own family. But he isn’t family, he’s a traitor, and I pray the guys show no mercy to him. Blood or not, he is no longer an uncle of mine.
“How long will it take after they’re both dead for the funds to hit the account?” Mayor Harrison asks, his question directed to Frankie. This time, he pulls out his phone and starts scrolling before he answers.
“It takes roughly three weeks after proof of death.” Putting his phone back in his pocket, I can’t help myself anymore. I need to know.
“Why are you doing this? What’s in it for you?” Tim’s and the mayor’s laughter fills the room while I wait impatiently for an answer. Is the answer that obvious, and I’m just too dumb to realize?
“The fact that her father never told her makes this whole situation that much more comical,” Harris says between laughs. “Go on, tell her, Frankie.” I turn my head to Frankie, the threat of tears stinging the back of my eyes, but I won’t let them fall. I won’t give them the satisfaction of watching me cry. Frankie clears his throat and takes a step closer towards me.
“Your father created trusts for you and your brother. A hefty 1.5 million dollars to each of his children the moment you turn twenty-eight years old. Once you reach that age, your trusts would be handed over for you to do as you wish.”
“So that’s it? It’s all about money to you?” I yell, unable to control my anger.
“NO! It’s not just about money, Sage! Your father left me nothing! Absolutely fucking nothing. His will stated that I was to be your legal guardian and take over the responsibility of raising you two. I was only twenty-eight years old! He gave me nothing but the burden of his kids. I was given nothing, not the house, no money, nothing to do with his estate, and he expected me to just raise both of you, out of the goodness of my heart!” I’ve never seen Frankie raise his voice like this, anger seeps out from every pore. Anger that has been built up and stored for so long, and he’s finally letting it go.
“Your father came to me before he died and expressed his concerns about the possibility of someone murdering him. He said he had a feeling he was being tailed and had a gut feeling something bad was going to happen.” Frankie laughs—an evil, sadistic sound I’ve never heard him make before; it makes the hairs on the back of my neck raise. “He was right because once I learned of his little affair, I told my two friends here. Lucky for me, they have connections that could make it look like an accident. Luther told me about his will and the trusts he had set up for you and Saxon. So, we made a plan, burn the house down with all three of you inside, and, poof , the money would be mine.”
“But Saxon wasn’t home that night,” I whisper.
“Imagine my anger when I learned that you were saved and Saxon wasn’t even at the fucking house!” I wince at the sound of Frankie’s outburst. My gut churns with the realization that my uncle killed my father and tried to kill me and Saxon too. Our own uncle wanted us all dead, for money. For a fucking paycheck. I can’t look my uncle in the eyes anymore. He looks like a monster, a demon, a wolf in sheep’s clothing—the person responsible for taking my father away from me. He’s a stranger I’ve never seen before, a man fueled by his own greed, who is willing to go to extensive measures to get what he wants.
“Why?” I still can’t comprehend all this. “Why did you hate Dad so much? Your own brother?” From the outside, my father and Frankie had a wonderful sibling relationship, always close and communicative. There was never any sign, to me at least, that either one hated the other. It was never even a thought in my mind that they had any animosity towards one another. It doesn’t make sense.
“Ah, yes, your father, my brother. The picture-perfect man he was. Loved by the club, by the citizens of this town, even winning the nickname ‘The Real Mayor of Golden Heights.’” I look to the real mayor at this comment. His face twists in annoyance and anger. “Your father was the golden boy of Golden Heights. Always the light of our mother’s eye, and when your grandfather, my father, handed over the club on a silver fucking plater to Luther before his own death, I knew where I stood in that family. As if he didn’t have another son standing beside him on his death bed. Like I was a shadow of his favorite son.” Frankie’s gaze drifts off somewhere outside of the room we all occupy. As if speaking of his past magically teleported him back in time.
“You always said you didn’t want to the responsibility of being in charge of the club. If you truly wanted more responsibility, you never did a damn thing to show it,” I say, my chin lifting high with defiance. “This is all to do with jealousy, then? You couldn’t bear the thought of others seeing you as a lesser man than my father? Do you know how childish that sounds, Frankie?”
“No, my dear. This isn’t about jealousy; this is about stepping into the shoes that were mine from the start. It wasn’t until I found out about his little affair that the wheels started turning in my head. I knew everything needed to look like an accident, especially if I wanted to gain the spot of president in the club. Which I deserve.
“These fine gentlemen here were all too excited to assist me with my plan, especially the mayor. You see, he couldn’t have his wife murdered. No, that would look too suspicious if Luther and Gloria just so happened to turn up dead. So, I enlisted their help with the promise of a nice hefty amount of the money once it was delivered. You see, I would have killed you both a long time ago, but since this all had to look like an accident, I needed more time to reconvene, replan, and ensure the steps were precise and measured so they’d never lead back to me. Plus, it would have been too suspicious if the pair of you died immediately after the fire. You know what I mean?” The smile Frankie gives me sends chills down my spine. Evil, complete and unequivocally evil.
How had I gone all these years thinking Frankie was anything but a demonic being walking this earth? Walking plainly in our lives? Playing this character of loving and present uncle, while all along, he was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. A phony, masquerading around as a heartbroken brother who lost his sibling in a tragic accident. Had I been so blind to miss the signs? Racking my brain, I can’t even remember there being any signs to see.
I can’t hold back the choke and shakiness of my breathing. It feels like an elephant has just sat on my lungs, and my world is spiraling around me. Since my father was murdered, I’ve been living with pure evil. A man who wanted me and my brother dead. Everything feels like a movie; this couldn’t possibly be my own life. It all sounds so insane, so far-fetched I can’t quite wrap my head around it all. While I’m sure I’m about to have a panic attack, their laughs fill the room once again as they stare down at me. Their psychotic and deranged hyena laughter makes bile rise in my throat, but when I look up again, my racing heart begins to slow, and I inhale a few deep breaths to bring me back to center.
They are here. They are here to save me.
“What a riveting story you have there, Frankie,” Saxon’s voice silences the room, and all heads snap to the archway. “You made one mistake with your plan, I’m afraid. You thought you were on the same playing field as us, but damn, how you are so very, very wrong, Uncle.”