Chapter 7
SEVEN
My hands are trembling, and I’m terrified. All eyes are on me, unblinking, their bodies unmoving. They’re waiting for me to speak, to do anything other than stare at them blankly, as if there’s not a single thought inside of my head.
If only that were true.
Everything is hitting me all at once, but I can’t let it show.
I cannot allow these people to see me as a weakling; because the truth is, I’m the woman of the man who they consider God himself.
Arlo deserves better than a little scaredy-cat to lead in his stead.
I clasp my hands together on my lap under the table, my knuckles turning white.
Whether it’s from the pressure from which I’m gripping myself, or the coldness that I’m feeling all of a sudden, I can’t tell.
“Arlo’s not here today,” I say, keeping my voice as flat and as calm as possible. Thus far, I’ve managed just fine. For the first time, I’m looking at everyone individually, not letting the fear show. Although, I probably reek of it. “So I am here in his place.”
“What’s the plan?”
Freya’s voice is like a soothing lullaby to my wrecked nerves.
She’s sitting next to her wife, Jewel, holding her hand tightly.
Something glimmers in her eye, and it provides a sense of security.
With Aria and Arlo out of the picture for the day, having someone on my side is a confidence boost I desperately needed.
“Hudson De Santis is dead,” I announce through a lump that’s preventing me from speaking for a moment. The tears slowly start forming in my eyes, but I swallow them back. This isn’t the time nor place.
My eyes flick over to Niko, and I can’t describe the expression on his face. It’s half-pain, but more than that, it’s pure and utter disbelief. He doesn’t believe me; not that I can blame him. The words taste bitter on my tongue, and a wave of nausea bubbles in my throat.
“And… Paul Simmons has escaped prison.”
Lucas all but jumps out of his chair, eyes narrowing at me. “What the fuck did you just say?”
“Do I need to repeat myself? What part of that statement did you not understand?” I snap.
My anger is starting to show, and there’s nothing I can do to hold it back.
It’s been there all this time, but with Arlo by my side, I was able to keep it at bay.
Now that I’m all alone, there’s no one to prevent me from bursting at the seams. Lucas’ loud voice starts to annoy me, but somehow, I manage to swallow the rage and remain calm.
It’s almost scary. I’m angry — furious, yet it’s not showing. It’s all simmering just below the surface, close to bursting out and yet, my face remains passive, stoic almost. I’ve never been one who can keep my emotions on the inside successfully, and I’m not sure how to act.
Lucas slumps back into the chair, staring at me in shock. His lips are parted, ever so slightly, and when he runs his hand over his face, I can see his eyes turning red, and a streak of tears running down his cheeks.
“Fuck,” he groans, then snaps out of it. “How did it happen?”
“Arlo’s trying to figure it out now,” I respond, swallowing the unease. “I have the footage. We’re all about to watch it together and see what the hell happened.”
“Does it have audio?” Jewel asks, bringing my attention to her.
I shake my head. “Unfortunately not.”
“I can read lips,” she shrugs. “It might help.”
“Alright, good,” I suck in a sharp breath. “Where’s Raven? I need him with me today.”
“He said he’d be a bit late,” Cove says, speaking for the first time today. “Arlo put him on a mission a few days ago, but he’s coming.”
I nod. “Good. Niko… are you going to be okay watching this?”
Niko is brought out of the daze he slipped into, eyes darting to mine. They’re blank. There’s no sorrow, no anger, nothing. As if he was able to flip the switch to his humanity off and within a moment, he becomes the stoic soldier he was raised to be.
“I’ll be fine.” he utters, no hint of emotion at all.
With a deep breath, I rise from the chair, ignoring the way my knees threaten to give out with the weight of everything I am holding.
I make my way toward the big computer behind Lucas, inserting the flash drive and finding the video.
Arlo got it mere moments after he found out his father was killed, and he immediately handed it over to me.
Hudson is dead.
The words are still foreign, and the fact is refusing to register in my brain. When I return to my chair, it’s like I’m glued to it. I can’t move a single muscle, my entire body is paralyzed. It’s Freya who presses the start button, with everyone turning to look at the monitor.
Jewel is the closest one to the screen, eyes narrowed while she stares at the video.
It’s in black and white, though everything is visible.
There Hudson sits, on the bed, reading a book.
A pair of glasses rest on top of his nose, his brows slightly narrowed in concentration.
From what I can tell, it’s a historical book of sorts, but the camera is too far away for me to be able to get a clear shot of exactly what he’s reading.
The entire wall is filled with images of him and Noelle. It’s grainy from my point of view, but I would recognize those two faces anywhere. Every couple of seconds, he glances at the wall, and something akin to pain flashes his eyes.
Then, with a deep sigh, he takes his glasses off, sets them aside on top of the book, and stands up to stretch. That’s when the door of his cell opens, and my heart starts racing inside of my chest.
I’m about to see how Hudson died.
The only man that’s ever been like a father to me is dead, and I’m about to witness his last breath.
I’m about to see the life drain from his face, and no matter how much of a brave face I’m putting on — I know I’m not ready.
I’ll never be truly ready for this. I’m nauseous and my whole body starts trembling.
A knot forms in my throat, there’s nothing I can do to prevent it from suffocating me, because right now, even breathing is difficult.
The man that enters Hudson’s cell is wearing all black. His back is facing the camera, and I can’t even see who it is. More importantly, since we can’t see his face, Jewel won’t be able to read his lips. However, the short girl still leans a little more in, eyes narrowed in concentration.
“What do you want?” Jewel says, her eyes glued to Hudson’s lips. It’s not her talking — it’s her reading his last, dying words. “How did you even get in here?”
Oh, God.
Hudson’s not on alert at all. His body is relaxed, his entire demeanor unbothered. Whoever this is, Hudson trusts them. He knows them. He knows the man that viciously took his life.
“You’re being odd,” Jewel says, her voice dropping an octave. “That means you’re either here to deliver some terrible news, or you’re here to kill me. However, given that you’re not someone that would ever be entrusted with any sort of news to deliver, I’d say you’re here to kill me, aren’t you?”
My heart is pumping so rapidly against my chest that I find myself getting dizzy. I’m either going to pass out, or get a heart attack, there’s no in between.
Hudson’s still not on alert. He crosses his arms in front of his chest, staring down at the man in front of him.
His face is passive, and all in me is screaming for him to snap out of it; to see the danger for what it truly is.
Yet, it’s useless. He’s already dead, and I’m witnessing his last moments.
The man takes a step forward, and whisks out a knife. His hand is gloved, gripping the steel handle of the sharp blade in his hands tightly. Hudson’s eyes slowly flick down to it, then he lifts an amused eyebrow.
“Oh, are you going to kill me, truly?” Jewel says, and at this point, I’m the one reading Hudson’s lips, too. I can practically smell the confidence and the arrogance in Hudson’s voice, and it fucking irks me. If he’d been more on alert, none of this would’ve happened.
“Go ahead. Try to kill me. You’re only going to get one chance. If you fail, I’ll not just kill you, but I’ll torture you until you’re begging me to die with your last, dying pathetic breath. You’ll know that the man who sent you to an early grave, is none other than the man you swore to serve.”
Fuck.
The anxiety, mixed with adrenaline slowly starts bubbling in my veins.
My palms grow cold, then sweaty, and I’m frozen in my spot.
Paralyzed, almost, and the sheer amount of anger that’s inside of me is not normal.
I’m so angry at Hudson for not seeing the threat that quite literally stood in front of him.
I’m angry at the man who dared to take Hudson out of my life, in one of the most brutal and terrible ways possible.
I’m angry at myself, because on some level, everything circles back to me.
In the end, everything is my fault. Everything is always my fault.
I suck in a sharp intake of breath when the man strikes. Hudson isn’t even moving. He’s standing there, completely still, awaiting for his inevitable doom. His body is still fucking relaxed, and it’s one of the most irking things.
The man strikes once, piercing the knife right below Hudson’s chest. A gush of blood immediately starts flowing out of the wound when the knife is pulled out, and yet, Hudson’s face remains unchanged.
There’s no pain, no sorrow, no regret — just the pure, deadly arrogance that cost him his life.
The man attacks again, and he angles his body in such a way that I cannot see the next spot on Hudson’s body being stabbed. I’m unsure whether it’s his chest, stomach, or even throat. All I’m seeing is his hand moving back and forth, as he whisks out the knife, then plunges it back into his body.
“Fucking hell,” Lucas mutters under his breath.
Niko’s not doing much better, either. His eyes are growing darker and darker with each passing moment, and whether it’s anger at the attacker or Hudson for simply taking it, and deciding to die then and there, I can’t tell.
Niko’s hands grip the edge of the table, knuckles turning white from the force. His body is shaking, his pupils dilating, and he reeks of murderous intent. He’s going to go on a killing spree after this, and no one is going to make it out alive.
Noelle is the star of the Campbell family, for sure.
She’s the one who pulled all the strings, and she’s the one people are terrified of.
However, I’ve heard stories about Niko, too.
He’s not the one to be taken lightly, and although he doesn’t participate as actively in the family business, he’s still a crazy killer, born and raised to take life.
When that’s mixed with anger, nothing good can come out of it.
Lucas grabs Niko’s hand, trying to calm his husband down. It’s not working, because Niko is seeing red. I admire the loyalty that runs deeply in this family, and it’s a blessing to be a part of it, to be one of them.
My eyes flick back to the screen, and Hudson’s down.
He’s lying on the cold, stone floor of his prison cell, eyes glued directly to the camera.
His torso is filled with blood, the inmate uniform coated in multiple shades of crimson.
I can’t even count the amount of wounds he has, since I can’t see anything from the sheer amount of blood.
The man looms over his body, covering Hudson’s face with his body for a brief moment. However, he doesn’t land the finishing blow. Instead, he pulls the hood of his black jacket to further cover his face, and exits the cell without so much as looking back at Hudson.
Like he’s some sort of dirt under his shoes, as if his life wasn’t worthy.
Then, Hudson’s mouth opens. He says something, and it’s clear that he’s in agony. The words are silent, as there’s no sound coming from the audio, but the moment he stops speaking, Jewel gasps audibly.
Her eyes widen in terror, hand covering her mouth. The disbelief is evident on her face, and she’s not looking at anyone except on Hudson’s lying body. It looks like the two are looking at each other through the camera lense, having a secret conversation.
“What is it, Jewel?”
I surprise myself with the amount of tranquility in my voice.
Jewel slowly turns to look at me, her voice barely above a whisper.
It’s weird seeing her like this. She’s always bubbly, full of life and overflowing with confidence.
Yet, right now, she’s a scared girl, too terrified to make her voice heard.
“He said a name,” she whispers.
“The name of the man who killed him,” I conclude, and with a stiff nod of confirmation, it’s as though everything in me is threatening to burst. Because somehow, I doubt Hudson would’ve let just anyone take him out.
Which means, the man who killed him is the fucking mole.
“Who is it, Jewel?”
Niko asks, his voice leaving no room for deception. He’s not asking her, not really. He’s demanding an answer, and I’d pray no one ever angers a member of the Campbell family enough to see the blood bath that would follow.
“Raven,” Jewel whispers, “it’s Raven.”