Chapter 26
CHAPTER 26
NOAH (PRESENT)
I fired two last shots, the bullets lodging themselves straight into the chest of the man running full-speed toward me with a machete in his hands, his body lunging forward and hitting the ground.
A sickening thud from the guy’s head smacking on the ground echoed in the air before a loud silence fell upon us. My chest heaved up and down as my eyes scanned the front yard, the aftermath a complete bloodbath.
Piles of corpses littered the ground, including two of ours, their blood forming pools of the filthy gravel.
I’d tried to help one of them, but I’d quickly become a bit preoccupied when one of my father’s men tackled me to the ground and tried to strangle me—he was lying somewhere in this carnage with a nicely sized hole right between his brows.
“Not too bad for an old man,” Jamal’s voice broke through the quiet as he walked over to where I was standing.
“Who are you calling old? Besides, need I remind you that I’m the one who taught you how to shoot a gun?” I countered, raising a brow.
Before Jamal could speak, one of Nassim’s men, Ruiz, approached us. “We’ll take care of the bodies. Kai just informed us Nassim and Amalia made it out and are waiting for you in the basement.”
“Thank you,” I replied, giving him a small nod of gratitude. “While we’re down there, do you mind doing a sweep of the property?” I asked him. “There might be kids locked somewhere and I want them out, but be careful.”
“Of kids?” he questioned, a perplexed expression crossing his features.
My father had a predilection for taking children under his care and shaping them into his most faithful soldiers, exploiting their innocence for his own gain.
He knew that people wouldn’t pay attention to kids. They were meant to be naive and harmless, which was why it worked so well for him.
“Some might have been under my father’s thumb for a long time. That’s where their loyalty will be lying,” I explained.
“Prisoners’ cells are in that building over there.” I pointed to the weathered structure situated on the far right.
He nodded in understanding and turned on his heels, but I called out his name again, remembering something else. “There’s this kid called Sabiri. He has a full head of curly red hair. You can’t miss him. Can you make sure he’s cared for until I get back?”
We’d only crossed paths a few times during my captivity, but every time we did, something about him nagged at my chest, like I could see the pain in my eyes reflected in his. It might be nothing, but I wanted to make sure for myself.
Ruiz gave me another curt nod and left to relay to his crew the information I’d just given him. Nassim would be dealing with the aftermath, but I wanted to make sure his men were at least aware before they received orders from their boss.
Once he was out of earshot, I turned to Jamal. “Let’s get this over with.” I led Jamal toward the front door from which we’d emerged earlier with my gun ready in case of any stragglers that needed to be taken care of.
We walked through the house that I’d never been able to call home, its walls bearing the scars of bad memories and even worse nightmares.
When we’d left town and I’d learned what my father had done, I knew I’d never come back because all I’d ever known here was loneliness and a person who I’d been supposed to look up to and who couldn’t even look at me.
My father, if one could even call him that, had always been a stranger living under the roof, only there to remind me of my shortcomings and how much he’d wished I’d never existed.
I’d be lying if I said a part of me hadn’t longed for the father I never had. But all he’d given me was the burden of his name and the scars he’d inflicted me with and tonight, I’d put a final end to it.
Tonight, I’d shatter the shackles he’d drowned me with and free myself from the years of carrying his shortcomings as weighted guilt.
“So this is where you grew up,” Jamal said from behind me.
“Unfortunately,” I responded with a heavy sigh, reaching for the back sliding doors and pulling them open.
We stepped out into the now cool night air, a scent of smoke lingering from afar. It must be from the explosion we heard earlier while we were at the front.
My breath had caught in my throat, my stomach dropping, when I’d heard the sound of whatever it was that went off. I’d been rushing away from the scene at the front when Kai’s voice halted me in my steps, assuring me that Amalia wasn’t injured and that the blast was Nassim’s doing.
We swiftly made it to the intended building. As I reached for the handle of the heavy iron door and wrenched it open since it was already unlocked, memories of the countless times I’d been dragged, pushed, or thrown down those stairs flooded my mind.
I tried to push them away and focus on the task at hand as I descended the narrow staircase, the sound of our footsteps echoing off the stone walls.
But with each step that brought me closer to the cell in the basement, it felt like a path to a defining moment. One that dredged up conflicting emotions within me.
I wanted this chapter of my life to be over with. I wanted to break free of my father’s chains. But this man, despite how cruel and abusive he’d been toward me, was still my father.
He was still my blood and killing him would be permanent.
There would be no going back after this.
I felt the feathered touches of relief whispering across my ribcage at that thought, but it didn’t erase the small ounce of guilt settled deep in my gut.
Not even the sight of my father bound and gagged to a chair in the cell that had plagued my childhood and always appeared in my mind when his name was uttered could ease it.
After a brief moment of hesitation, I took a deep breath and stepped into the cell, leaving only a few feet away between us. I’d schooled my features, making sure none of my emotions flashed across my face because if my father was fueled by one thing, it was fear.
Especially mine. He’d used to thrive on it.
My father’s hands were currently restrained behind his back with ropes, his feet tied at the front. His typically polished appearance was now completely disheveled by the earlier explosion.
The light fabric of his suit was torn and tattered in places, blackened by soot and singed from flames. His skin was smudged with ash, streaks of sweat tracking down his cheeks.
Even his once carefully slicked back hair stood at different angles, blood and soot matting it to his forehead.
“Father, glad you could join us,” I greeted him in a nonchalant tone. I forced my gaze to meet his and when I did, it was blazing with anger, his features contorted with more resentment than I’d ever seen on him before.
My grip tightened around my gun, but I immediately loosened it, not wanting him to notice. “Take off his gag,” I told no one in particular.
Nassim moved toward my father with his gun drawn and yanked the rag out. The moment the fabric passed his lips, he expelled his fury.
“What is this foolish charade?” he gritted out.
His voice caused my gut to clench, the impact of his low and gravelly voice sending a tailspin of flashbacks to swarm my mind.
Noah, no. Focus.
I internally shook myself out of it and listened to the rest of his hate-filled speech.
“I knew I should have killed you myself,” my father stated. “I should have forced that bitch of your mother to get rid of you the moment she told me she was pregnant because somehow I knew, I just knew you wouldn’t live up to my name, even when you were mother’s womb.” Spittle flew from his mouth as he raised his voice in the end.
Before I could stop myself, I asked, “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you hate me so much?” I said, the words barely getting out from how much my voice shook. My chest heaved up and down, waiting for his response.
A cruel laugh left his lips. “You’re just proving my point, dear son. Your emotions were always the reason why I knew you would never amount to anything. You were my worst failure. You were weak of mind, so why on earth would I want you to be my heir only for your pitiful, emotional self to take over something that is mine ?” he explained, his words laced with venom. “You were always your mother’s son, always letting your emotions guide your decisions. You were just as useless as she was.” He sneered. “Speaking of which, I heard that bitch Camila died years ago. Wish I’d been able to find her and do it myself.”
Rage ravaged my veins, incinerating any self-control I was trying to maintain. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of reacting to his words, but I couldn’t stop myself from kicking my foot against the chair he was tied to, sending him plummeting toward the floor.
He cursed at me in Arabic, the last part of his insults cut short when his back slammed against the concrete floor.
I moved closer to where he was lying and stood above him. “Get her name out of your mouth,” I spat out, aiming my gun at his head. “And I am not your son.”
“You just keep proving me right.” He laughed in between coughs as he tried to catch his breath. “Besides, you don’t have it in you to kill me. You were never strong enough to do anything,” he mocked, his voice laced with venom.
I didn’t respond.
“Go ahead, shoot me,” he said, goading me.
I cocked the hammer back into position and placed my finger over the trigger but faltered. I tried to push his words away and just pull the trigger, but my earlier apprehensions slithered back into my brain.
He’s still your father.
Why was the abused always the one plagued with guilt? If the roles were reversed and my father was given the opportunity, he wouldn’t hesitate in pulling the trigger and finally having his wish of having gone fulfilled.
As if Amalia could see my reluctance, she walked up behind me and wrapped her arm around my own, her fingers resting on my hand that held the gun.
She leaned closer to my ear. “I’m right here,” she whispered softly, only for me to hear. “You can do it, Noah. But if you don’t want to, I’ll do it for you.”
I closed my eyes for a fleeting moment before meeting the gaze of the man who’d stripped me of so much.
When I’d seen him for the first time a few days ago, all I could feel was anger and resentment. But now, when I looked at the man who had been supposed to be my father, all I felt was indifference.
Complete and absolute indifference.
I wasn’t Noah Barrera anymore. I’d never truly been that person. Not because of what my father believed, but because it was never who I felt I was.
I was Noah Brown, the boy whose mother’s love nurtured him until he was strong enough to walk in his own lane instead of in the shadows of the monster who had raised him.
I locked my gaze with his, his eyes filled with a look of victory. Like he’d gotten the upper hand and proven himself right.
“That’s what I t—” His sentence died in a muted breath when I swiftly steadied the gun in my hand and pulled the trigger, shattering the last shackle that tethered me to him, keeping me from moving forward.
The bullet had ripped through the air and had lodged itself in between his eyes, the same way he’d done it so many times before to his other victims.
And this time, I’d done it to him.
I stood frozen in the aftermath of what had just happened. What I’d just done.
A humorless laugh fell from my lips. “I killed him,” I muttered.
The weight of the realization washed over me and suddenly, everything around me seemed to become muted. The space around me seemed so eerily quiet that I could almost make out the faint whispers of my own heartbeat, its thunderous drumming suffocating my hearing.
The air felt thick and oppressive, making it difficult to draw a breath, my lungs struggling against the force of what had just transpired.
My father was dead.
As I watched his lifeless eyes stare back at me, a jagged wound of torn and shredded tissues decorating the space between them, I waited for the waves of guilt or remorse to consume me.
But instead, I was met with an unexpected sense of relief.
I swallowed the unpredicted sob that wracked my chest, but I couldn’t stop the tears that followed from streaming down my face. I couldn’t contain them no matter how much I tried.
I couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason for them, but it strangely felt…
Good, almost… liberating .
A cloak still veiled me from my surroundings, but I felt the gentle touch of fingers intertwining with mine, and a familiar warmth pressing against my front as it guided me away from wherever I was.
A hand tenderly brushed my hair back in a soothing motion before it skated down the curve of my face, the pad of a thumb brushing away at tracks falling down my cheeks.
A voice called out my name a few times before I looked down to see the most beautiful shade of green. Love and reassurance transpired within her eyes as she gently grasped the back of my head, guiding it to rest upon her shoulder.
It was as if she was showing that it was okay to let it out, to feel the way I felt with no shame or inhibition.
The moment my forehead met her skin, I conceded to the floor of emotions that I’d let trapped inside for far too long.
My senses resharpened and the room came back to life. My tears flowed freely now, each one carrying with it a weight that had burdened me for far too long.
I’d thought I’d done the work, that I’d been okay, but perhaps I still had been lying to myself all these years like I’d done so expertly for so long.
Amalia didn’t say a word as she held me close, silently offering me solace. She still held my hand, her other one drawing back and forth on my back.
My emotions eventually subsided and my breathing steadied. I lifted my head from her shoulder, meeting her gaze.
She gave me a small smile and mouthed, “It’s okay. I love you.”
I opened my mouth to tell her the same when a sudden gunshot rang in the air. In an instant, she let go of me, instinctively reaching for her gun, while I swiftly drew mine up and aimed it toward the source of the sound.
My eyes widened when I found Jamal standing above my father. Tendrils of smoke billowed from the barrel of his gun, dancing into the air.
He glanced up. “Just making sure he’s really gone,” he explained, with a nonchalant shrug as he casually tucked his gun into the back waistband of his pants.
“You’re sick,” Nassim chimed in. “But I like your style. Wish I would’ve thought of it first.”
A laugh unexpectedly tore out of my chest, watching me off guard. I brought a hand up, clearing my throat. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t laugh, but…” I began, but it was cut by another burst of laughter.
To my surprise, Jamal joined in, his laughter mingling with mine at how ridiculous the situation was. It was probably quite inappropriate to laugh as my father’s corpse lay a few feet away from me.
Our laughter eventually faded into a comfortable silence, except for the occasional dripping of water that had plagued my childhood. The sound used to fill me with dread, but now it felt insignificant.
Before I could ponder on the thought, a stranger’s voice echoed in the quiet space.
“Now that that’s over, can someone get me out of here?” it said and I quickly realized that it came from the other side of the wall.
Oh shit, Gabriel.
Without saying a word, I briskly exited the cell and marched down the hallway, the others following behind. I rounded the corner I’d watched them take when they’d carried Gabriel’s body away last week and walked down another corridor, a cell that was about a quarter of the size of mine appeared at the end.
Gabriel, who was much taller than I’d anticipated, was standing at the door, his arm slung between the iron bars. His gaze lifted to meet mine as I approached. He looked worse than when I’d seen them drag his limp body out, but he somewhat still managed a faint smile.
“At last we met,” he greeted me, his voice raspy with exhaustion.
I moved to open his cell door, only to find it locked. Fuck.
Before I could ask, Amalia stepped in front of me with a set of keys in hand, solving my problem.
Gabriel diverted his attention to Amalia. “And it’s nice to see you again, Ines. Or is it Amalia?” he inquired, his tone laced with curiosity.
“Hey, Gabriel,” Amalia replied with a soft smile on her face. “Sorry about last time. I needed a distraction for this guy,” she explained, nodding toward me.
He shrugged. “It’s fine. I figured after hearing all of that,” he said, gesturing toward his right to the wall that separated our cells.
Once Amalia unlocked the door, he stepped aside, allowing her to swing it open. Stepping out of his cell, Gabriel stretched his arms above his head.
“Freedom feels rather nice,” he drawled. Then, with a playful smile, he looked at all of us. “Wait, I’m free right?” he asked, but despite his playful nonchalance, a hint of uncertainty lingered in his voice.
I huffed out a laugh. “You are,” I confirmed with a nod. “Nassim over there,” I began, pointing toward where Nassim was standing a few steps behind next to Jamal. Nassim lifted his hand as if to identify himself as I continued. “He’s the new Rai’s and will take care of whatever you need,” I reassured him.
Gabriel peered over my shoulder, raising a skeptical brow. “So he won’t stick me in another cell or use me as a property?”
Nassim answered his question. “The only type of property I like are buildings and I won’t stick you in any cell unless you give me a reason to.”
“That’s fair enough,” Gabriel agreed with a nod, seeming to accept his answer.
Amalia interjected as she wrapped an arm around my waist. “All right, I’m exhausted. Let’s head out.”
I slung an arm over her shoulders, pulling her closer to place a kiss above her head. We all trailed behind Nassim out of this hellhole.
And when we passed my father, I didn’t spare him another glance.