Chapter 45 Chloe
I made sure my hand was placed over the peephole before I knocked.
Footsteps approached not too long after. Heavy and slow. I knew it was Arthur.
The door swung open. Arthur appeared, his mouth already opening to ask who the hell was knocking at this hour. He never got the chance.
I swung the gun.
The butt of it connected with his temple in a solid, sickening crack that sent him stumbling backward, one hand flying to his head, the other grabbing the wall for balance.
I smiled.
"WHAT THE—"
I stepped inside. Closed the door behind me. The gun was heavy in my hand. I'd bought it from a pawn shop in Tampa. He said I'd have to wait three days, but five thousand dollars for a six-hundred-dollar gun ended that discussion. The bullets were free.
Ava's scream cut through the room first. Then Olivia's. They were standing in front of the couch, both of them frozen in place like deer caught in headlights. A movie was playing on the screen—looked like Imitation of Life. The irony.
"Chloe—" Ava started, as if she could talk me down.
"SIT DOWN."
My voice didn't sound like mine. Ava sat. Olivia didn't move. I stepped closer and pointed the gun at her chest.
"I said sit the fuck down."
She sat.
Arthur was on the floor, blood seeping between his fingers where he was holding his head. He was groaning, trying to push himself up.
"You," I said. "On your knees."
He looked at me. For a second, I saw something like defiance in his eyes. Like he thought he could talk his way out of this. Then he saw my face. He got on his knees. Slowly, his dignity hit the floor before he did.
"Chloe? Is that you?"
A voice drifted from the top of the stairs, slick and oily. Caspian stepped into the light of the landing, a glass of scotch in his hand, wearing silk pajamas. His eyes landed on me and a slow, predatory grin spread across his face. He looked happy—excited, even.
"You're back." He started down the steps.
I leveled the gun at his throat. "Keep coming, Caspian. Down here. Next to your sister."
His smile faltered.
He didn't go where I told him. Of course he didn't. He thought he had ownership over me. But I wasn't as easy to control as before. His eyes never left me.
"Stop fucking looking at me like that. You make my fucking skin crawl. Are you expecting a thank you?"
He looked confused.
"Pucker up," I yelled.
Before he could react, I swung the heavy steel barrel across his face. The metal shattered his front teeth and split his lip to the bone. He hit the floor clutching his mangled mouth, his eyes wide with a terror that finally matched my own.
Ava and Olivia started whimpering loudly.
I pointed the gun at Caspian. "Don't be like him and try me."
I turned to face all three of them.
"Now I want you all to do what I did for fourteen years," I said. The gun was steady. "Shut up. And listen."
The room was silent except for Arthur's labored breathing and Caspian's muffled groans.
"I was ten years old when you killed my mother," I said, looking at Arthur. "I watched you put your hands on her. I watched you push her off that balcony. And I heard you tell the police she jumped."
Arthur opened his mouth. My sneakered foot connected with his chest. He fell backward, gasping.
"I said shut up."
I turned to Ava.
"You moved into her house. You slept in her bed. You wore her jewelry. You took her name, and you let your brother put his hands on me while you pretended not to notice."
Ava was crying now. I grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head back.
"You think crying fixes it? You think tears undo fourteen years?"
I let go and turned to Olivia.
"And you. You stole my words. You put your name on them. Half the name isn't even yours—you're not a Landry."
Her head snapped back from the impact of the back of my hand across her cheek. I hit her hard enough to draw blood.
"Chloe, please, don't—" Ava started.
"Shut up. You don't get to say my name. You don't get to do anything except sit there and listen to what you took from me."
I paced in front of them, the gun swinging at my side.
"I missed everything. My childhood. My friends. My prom. Graduation. College."
I stopped in front of Arthur.
"You told people I was crazy. You drugged me. You locked me in a room with a man who touched me whenever he wanted because you needed him to keep your secret."
I raised the gun. Pointed it at his chest.
"The reason I'm going to kill you isn't because of what you did to me. It's because you looked at your own daughter and decided she wasn't worth even loving."
I laughed. It came out hollow.
"I've been putting on a good front, but when no one's looking, I feel like I'm rotting from the inside out. I search for the pieces of me, and I can't find a single one. My soul is in pieces, and I can't start to put it back together until you all don't exist to remind me."
"Chloe—"
"Don't say my name. You ain't worthy."
My finger tightened on the trigger. The world narrowed.
Suddenly, massive arms wrapped around my chest, yanking me backward. The gun was ripped from my hands.
"NO—" I thrashed. "Let me go! He has to pay!"
"Chloe. Chloe, stop. It's me. It's Cartier."
I went still. My chest was heaving.
"You were at the pier!"
"I'm a lot of things, Chloe, but I'm not an idiot." Cartier grunted. "I got a couple miles down the road and realized something felt wrong. So I doubled back."
"I had him," I whispered. "I almost had him."
"I know."
He didn't let go.
Arthur was still on his knees. Ava was sobbing. Olivia was curled on the floor.
I spat in their direction.
"Fourteen years. You're monsters. You aren't even human. You're leeches that grew fat on my mother's blood and my life. You're parasites. I'mma kill you. Eventually I will."
"Chloe, that's enough." Cartier's voice was firm.
He carried me out of the house, stepping over the splintered remains of the door. He placed me in the backseat of the black SUV. He slid into the driver's seat and immediately dialed a number.
"I got her," he said the second the call connected. "She's okay. I'm moving her now."
He looked at me in the rearview mirror. "Killian is three miles out, Chloe. You'll see him in a minute."
"I don't want to see him," I snapped. "I know what he's going to say. He's going to talk about 'the process.' He's going to talk about letting 'justice' prevail. I don't want his logic right now."
Cartier shook his head and kept driving.
I sat in the dark, my chest heaving, my throat raw.
I pulled out the burner phone from my hoodie.
Chloe: The deal we talked about at the pier. I need you to handle it. Now!!
I hit send.
Then I leaned my head against the window and watched the beach house disappear into the shadows of the palm trees.
If the law wouldn't give me justice, and Killian wouldn't let me take it with my own hands, then I would let the shadows do the work for me.