Chapter 30
KIT
The bright, intrusive lights of the city hurt my eyes, their sharp embers darting past the car window like uniform fireflies.
But I can’t look away, my sight blurring until every streetlamp is haloed above me.
How have I never appreciated the way London glows before?
After facing true darkness, I’ll never take it for granted again.
Damian and I are driving in Lucien’s car after deciding we were best placed to return my mother’s property.
The others are taking Damian’s car back, and we’re planning to pick it up tomorrow.
Or burn it and buy a new one. The car was a gift from Lucien after all.
I think Damian would rather drive something more…
symbolic now, something he’d taken from his father by force rather than received under the pretence of false niceties.
It’s not yet dawn. The sun is still in slumber beneath the horizon, hiding from the cool winter’s morning, and the streets are quiet, or as quiet as they’ll ever be in the suburbs of London. We’ve passed eleven cars on this road alone.
Damian is driving… carefully, what with our precious cargo hogtied in the boot. He’s hit almost every bump and pothole on the road, and even the occasional curb.
“There’s another,” I point to a jagged, crumbling cavity in the tarmac.
Damian turns the wheel slightly, aiming straight for the hole. My seatbelt strains as we’re jostled up and down in our seats. The corresponding thunk from the boot brings a pleased smile to my face.
“Urgh…”
“Sounds like he’s waking up,” Damian states blandly.
I nestle back into my chair, thankful for the heated seating. “It’s about time,” I yawn. “We’re nearly home.”
“That place isn’t our home. We’re never stepping foot in there again.”
“I know,” I sigh. “But I’m too tired to find a better word right now.”
Damian captures my hand as we turn more sharply than necessary onto what was once our street. He uses our joined fingers to grind the gear stick and steer us recklessly onto our drive.
Clunk.
Damian bypasses our usual parking spot and pulls the car up to the front steps. “Are you absolutely sure this is what you want to do?” he asks, gently squeezing my hand.
I nod resolutely. “I want him to pay. I want to humiliate him as much as he humiliated me.”
Damian’s eyes bore into mine, looking beneath the fresh pain to find the deeper truth for himself. What he unearths must satisfy him, because a dark, foreboding grin spreads across his lips. “Let’s get started then.”
It takes longer than you’d think to untangle a semi-conscious body from the back of a car. Still, Damian perseveres, and after a few heavy-handed pulls, Lucien slips out of the vehicle and lands headfirst on the front steps.
Oops.
With Lucien returned to where he belongs, we don’t linger.
Damian takes Jane’s knife to Lucien’s tyres, because why not, before tucking it carefully into his jeans.
Then, he takes my hand and leads me down the long, winding drive.
Luckily, Damian’s gym shoes were in his car.
They’re a couple of sizes too big for me, but they’ll do until the shops open later.
We’ve taken Lucien’s wallet, and Damian’s ensuring those accounts remain open to us for the foreseeable future.
I don’t know how. For now, I’m not asking too many questions.
Before we leave for the final time, I take one last look at the beautiful home I thought had welcomed me all those years ago.
A chill skates down my spine as I spot a figure watching us from the shadows of the master suite.
I can imagine my mother’s pursed lips and scornful glare as she looks down upon our offering, on the sorry state of the man who had her deceived for so many years.
Then, she turns. The heavy curtains fall closed behind her, and a few moments later, the outside lights cut out, casting Lucien into solitary darkness.
The message is clear. She doesn’t suffer fools. Lucien will be gone by breakfast.
A weight lifts from my shoulders as we pass the wrought iron gates that we once mistakenly thought kept us safe. Without a second glance, Damian and I walk into the dying night, not caring that we’ll never see our childhood home again.