25. Revelation
25
Revelation
THEN
Haze Adams woke up with a start, unusual noises he couldn’t identify pulling him out of brief but much-needed slumber. The clock on the wall read 2:00 a.m. The young boy frowned as he eyed the flat-screen TV in front of him. It was nowhere near loud enough to bother him, let alone wake him when he was this exhausted. His mind wandered to his sister sleeping upstairs.
He’d been watching her almost every single night that week. His parents loved to confuse their youngest son for a babysitter whenever it was convenient for them, but, as opposed to the majority of fourteen-year-old boys, Haze didn’t mind. Desiree was easy to babysit. She always had been. All she wanted was for her brother to read stories with happy endings to her. Haze didn’t have the heart to tell her that she wasn’t born into the right family to get one.
Since Desiree had officially entered her “monsters under my bed” phase, Haze had learned to sleep with one eye open to be ready whenever she called. Heaven knew he was the only one who’d come running if she did. Indeed, Haze had been like a parent to his sister for as long as he could remember. He couldn’t possibly count the amount of times she’d accidentally called him “Dad” or snuck into his room after she’d had nightmares. It was nothing new. It was an everyday thing at this point. Desiree’s father constantly promised his daughter that he’d play with her, only to back out and leave her big brother to comfort her. She pretended that she didn’t mind, but she held back tears every time her dad closed his office door in her face with the promise to play tomorrow.
The noises hit again, interrupting Haze’s foggy thoughts.
He cursed. This had to be Tanner trying to get in through a window again. This was the fourth time this week. It sometimes seemed like Haze’s older brother’s mission in life was to forget his keys. Like it was on his everyday to-do list. Or maybe his parents had changed their minds and decided to come home from their snobby friend’s reception instead of spending the night at the hotel.
When the noises sounded once more, this time louder, Haze got up. Something was wrong. He knew it, but he still tried to keep the whirlwind that was his mind from jumping to conclusions. Surely, if someone was breaking in, the high-tech and expensive security system his parents had installed on the house would’ve gone off. They’d paid a fortune for it. If something was going on, he would’ve known , right?
His heart jolted in his rib cage when the power went out, soaking the teenage boy and the Adams mansion in complete darkness. No power equals no high-tech security system , a voice in the back of his head reminded him.
Something was definitely wrong.
His pulse quickening, the boy grabbed the first thing he could find that somehow resembled a weapon—which, in this case, turned out to be a large marble vase his mother kept in the living room—and started walking to the kitchen where he hoped to find a knife. With trembling hands, he got his phone out of his pocket with the intention to dial 911.
Little did he know he’d never get a chance to press Call .
Someone launched at him from behind, spinning him around and punching him in the face with a strength Haze couldn’t match. His mother’s vase shattered into a million pieces as his cell phone fell a few feet away from him. The pain was nothing compared to the fear he felt when he looked up.
There they were.
Standing in his kitchen.
The silhouettes.
They were masked, dressed in black, tall, broad-shouldered, and very probably armed.
“What the fuck? You said no one was home,” one of the men shouted as he analyzed the terrified teenager on the ground.
“They were supposed to be out tonight, I swear,” his partner replied in anger. They had somehow forgotten that the Adamses had kids. “We can’t have him in our way. Tie him up.”
Haze put up the fight of his life, his every attempt at hurting the intruders useless and unsuccessful. They were too strong. He was fourteen. They had years on him, and every punch he threw resulted in him getting kicked down, beaten up, and thrown to the ground.
His body surrendered when a very sharp and heavy object hit the back of his head, and he collapsed onto the cold ceramic floor.
“Fucking stupid kid,” one of them spit.
Barely conscious, he could feel the blood dripping down his forehead as his senses escaped him. The masked man who’d knocked him out held a gun to his temple. Haze didn’t doubt for one second that they’d have what it took to shoot.
“Listen, boy, we don’t want to kill you, but keep this up and we will.”
Realizing that he’d come at them again if they gave him the chance to recover, the masked monsters took Haze’s choice away by tying him to a kitchen chair and circling his hands with tight ropes. Then it was the tape on his mouth. They’d thought of everything.
One of the thieves started filling large black bags with random items lying around the house. His father’s autographed baseball, his mother’s expensive necklace. Everything they could get their hands on seemed to be a good match. Meanwhile, the other monster kept the teenage boy at gunpoint.
“I’ve got upstairs,” the masked man who had tied him up said and climbed up the stairs.
Haze screamed as loud as he could, trying to warn Desiree, who was fast asleep in her bedroom. The duct tape blocking his mouth made it impossible. He was praying that she had heard the commotion downstairs and hidden. Her bedroom was on the opposite end of the house, and it was so big he wouldn’t have been surprised if she hadn’t. Why was the damn house so big? Why did his parents need eleven bathrooms?
Somehow, this statement alone made this attack easy to believe for Haze. The Adamses were beyond wealthy and shamelessly flaunted their money to anyone who had eyes. This robbery had probably been planned for a while.
“Man, you have to see this,” the thief called from the second floor.
“If you try to escape, we’ll come back and kill your entire family. Do you understand me?” the man holding the gun warned through gritted teeth before joining his partner.
A lot of noises. Their footsteps running up and down the halls. This was all Haze could hear as he fought to free his wrists to the point of bleeding. He didn’t care about his life. He didn’t care about the pain.
He only cared about her.
Then, he heard the worst sound he could’ve ever imagined. It was barely audible. It was a creak. A door opened. He would’ve never heard it if it wasn’t for the complete absence of sound due to the power loss.
“Haze?”
Desiree.
That’s when he heard the gunshot.
“What the fuck did you do?” one of the masked men belted.
“I-I don’t know. I panicked. It came out of nowhere.”
Hesitant footsteps followed.
“What the fuck, Marc? You said we wouldn’t hurt anyone. You said… I didn’t sign up for this.” Panic could be heard in the man’s tone.
Haze held on to every word, praying, hoping, dying to hear them say that they missed. He just needed something. Anything.
He kept on trying to free himself from the chair he now called his prison and eventually ended up knocking it over. Still tied to the chair, he landed on his side and groaned in pain as the pieces of marble from the shattered vase on the floor cut his skin.
“We have to go to the police,” the man barked.
No. No. This can’t be happening.
This isn’t real.
This can’t be real , Haze thought.
“Are you insane? What do you think they’re going to say, huh? What’s going to happen? Thanks for your honesty, you’re free to go? No, fuck no. I’m not dying in prison.”
“Damn it, Marcus, you just killed a kid.”
And just like that…
Haze’s world stopped turning.
Distant sirens roared outside. Colton Gate was a small town. A gunshot at 2:00 a.m. wasn’t an everyday thing. The neighbors had probably called the police the second it had happened.
“We need to get out of here.”
“Are you insane? We can’t just leave her like this.”
“Listen to me. Listen… Do you want to be locked up for the rest of your life? Is that what you want? Because that’s what’s going to happen if we let them find us here.”
Silence.
“That’s what I thought. Come on, we have to leave. Now!”
And so they did…
They left, running back down the stairs and exiting through the exact same window Tanner always used to sneak in. This was probably how they’d found out about it in the first place. Burning tears filled up the teenage boy’s eyes as he started to hyperventilate, his throat tightening with every forced and agonizing breath. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real.
From there, he acted on instinct, using the pieces of marble on the ground to cut the ropes holding him prisoner. The blaring police sirens were getting closer. He ran upstairs, ignoring his blood dripping on the squeaky steps. When he reached the second floor, the boy screamed… the loudest, longest, and most heartbreaking scream of his life.
There she was.
On the ground.
Haze had never considered himself to be squeamish when it came to blood. But this was a whole other story. He’d never seen so much.
“Des!” he choked out. “No!”
He ran to the child, picking up the pale, blood-covered five-year-old into his arms and swaying her in a miserable attempt to comfort her, the way he always did when she had nightmares. Except that now her skin was freezing, and the nightmare was real. She was still conscious, crying and shaking as she fought for each gasp of air.
“No, no, no, stay with me. Des, don’t close your eyes. Des, don’t leave me , please!” he begged, shaking her as though he hoped it would change anything, patch up her wounds, and give her back her life. The life they’d stolen from her.
The blue-eyed little girl didn’t speak. She couldn’t.
“I’ll make them pay for this, I promise.” He sobbed harder. “I’ll make them pay.”
She squeezed her big brother’s sleeve as a reply, her delicate fingers holding him for the last time.
Then she stopped.
The shakes left her, the tears ceased, and the life spilled out of her eyes.
And, in that moment…
He knew.
She was dead.
His baby sister was dead.
Because he wasn’t strong enough. Because he couldn’t stand up to the intruders. The teenager cried, all the water his body contained. He cried enough tears to match the blood on the floor, and he held her, until the police forcefully removed him from the scene. Even then, he fought with all he had. As they took him away for questioning, he recalled the words the thief had said to him.
If you try to escape, we’ll come back and kill your entire family.
But there was no point…
His family was already dead.