Chapter 30
W hen I hear footsteps, I straighten my spine. But something inside me feels more settled than it’s been in days. He’s here. Connor. He hasn’t said anything, but I can sense him. That or I’ve completely lost my mind and wishful thinking is taking over.
There’s more than just the calmness of him being here. Or at least thinking he’s here. There’s the fear of what they’re going to do to him.
My hand stretches towards the edge of the mattress.
I can feel the hidden key. I might not be able to see, but I can still hear.
And the moment I sense that they’re hurting him, this key will be getting used.
I don’t know if I have the ability to stand and fight, but I will give it my all if I have to.
The footsteps stop. “Take a seat, son. You’re just in time for the show,” Mr. O’Malley says.
My head snaps up. He is here. Connor. I can’t see him and he doesn’t say a word to confirm my suspicions—at least at first—as what sounds like a piece of wood scrapes across the ground. A chair.
“I’m curious, Da. How do you think this is going to end?” Connor finally asks.
I want to call out to him, tell him to run, to save himself. Fear has me frozen, though. He’s here, which means whatever they’ve been planning to do to me is going to happen. Everything before it was just act one. Now it’s time for the main event.
“How it always ends,” Mr. O’Malley says.
“Sure,” Connor replies. He doesn’t acknowledge me.
Can he see me? Is he being kept in the dark too? I don’t move. I don’t say a word. Instead, I wait.
“Patty, call the men in.” Mr. O’Malley sounds excited. The sick fuck.
“Sure thing, boss,” Patty says, and then I hear him step towards the door.
“You really think I’m going to sit here and let you do this?” Connor asks.
“You don’t have any other choice,” his father replies. “It’s your life or hers. One of them is ending today.”
“Then I pick mine.” Connor doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t stutter. He’s confident in his decision.
“You’re prepared to put yourself in her place?” Once again, Mr. O’Malley sounds amused.
“Yes,” Connor tells him.
“No.” My voice breaks, but I know they hear me. Because their movements stop. “No, don’t you dare fucking touch him,” I growl.
“Oh, so she does have claws. Gotta tell you, son, she’s been a hard one to crack but I think I just found what makes her tick,” Mr. O’Malley hums.
“There was a time I thought I wouldn’t be able to do it, you know,” Connor says.
“Do what?” his father asks.
“Kill you.” Connor is calm, emotionless.
Mr. O’Malley laughs. “You can’t kill me. I made you into everything you are, boy. You think you’re going to take me out, you and your army of one? Look around, son. This is my kingdom. You’re only here because I allow it.”
“It’s just you and me down here, Da. Where’s your army now?”
The ground beneath me shudders.
“What the fuck!” Mr. O’Malley yells out.
“Guess it’s time.” I can’t see shit, but I hear the unmistakable noise of flesh hitting flesh. I take that as my cue.
I reach for the key and twist it around in my fingers until I can get it into the lock, which takes longer than I’d like. The whole time, I hear grunting, punches landing—on whom from whom, I have no idea.
I feel for the keyhole on my other wrist and then I’m free from the chains.
I slip a hand back under the mattress until my fingertips brush the glasses and quickly bring them to my face, my arms shaking with the sudden motion.
I haven’t been able to raise them for days and it takes a lot of effort to move.
I’ve been trying to stretch as much as I can while I’ve been chained up here.
I knew when I was free it would be harder to move the longer I stayed still.
The room comes into view, all my focus on one person. The only person who matters. Connor.
He’s fighting his dad. I knew that already, of course.
There isn’t anyone else in here but us three and no one is paying attention to me.
Connor throws a punch at his father’s face and then shoves the old man against the wall.
Mr. O’Malley pushes him off and strikes back.
Connor ducks and easily avoids the blow.
I can’t imagine what Connor is feeling right now. This is his father.
My eyes skirt around the room, looking for something, anything that I can use to help him. The table! I remember seeing a table!
I crawl towards it, trying to go unnoticed, and as soon as I reach the edge, I pull myself up.
My legs wobble, barely able to hold my weight as I use the top to support myself.
I shift through the instruments until I find exactly what I need.
A knife. My palm wraps around the handle.
I turn back and see Mr. O’Malley on Connor. Punching him. Fuck.
I take a step towards them, my knees give out on me, and I fall to the ground. While the noise has them both looking my way.
“How the fuck did you get out? And where did those come from?” Mr. O’Malley gestures to the glasses on my face as he jumps off Connor and storms towards me.
I smile. Good. Get away from him.
“Scared you can’t beat a girl when she’s not tied up?” I ask.
As soon as he reaches me, his hand tangles in my hair and he yanks me upwards. The knife is firmly clenched in my fist. I have the opportunity to use it and I… pause and look over to Connor. I don’t know what to do. I need to help him. I just don’t know the right thing to do anymore.
Connor stands, aiming a gun in our direction. His father’s direction. “Get your fucking hands off her.”
“How the fuck?” Mr. O’Malley pats himself down, obviously no longer in possession of the gun Connor is now holding.
“You’re too predictable, old man. I’m not going to ask you again. Get your fucking hands off her. Now,” Connor hisses.
“Or what? You’ll shoot me? You’re not going to kill me, son. You can’t,” Mr. O’Malley says.
“I can actually. And I will.” Connor’s finger skims the trigger.
“Yeah? Does she know what happens if you do? You think you can outrun this? The organization will follow you to the ends of the earth, boy. You kill me, it’s all on you.”
“It’ll be worth it,” Connor replies.
“You can’t outrun who you are. You will always be my son. Killing me won’t change that. I made you. Don’t you forget it.” Mr. O’Malley’s hand clenches tighter in my hair. I’m surprised it’s not ripping right out of my skull.
“Connor, you don’t have to do this,” I chime in. I can do it. He can hate me. It’s better if he hates me instead of himself.
Connor’s gaze flicks to my hand. He sees what I’m holding. “Actually, I do, babe. Do me a favor and close your eyes.”
“Why?” I ask him.
“Because I don’t want you to remember me as the monster who killed his own father.”
I can’t let him do this. Twisting around, I use every ounce of strength I can gather and throw my hand towards Mr. O’Malley’s chest. The knife pushes through and his fingers release their grip on my hair.
My body drops to the floor.
“You fucking bitch.” Mr. O’Malley’s foot connects with my ribs as he pulls the knife out of his torso.
Then the sound of a gunshot echoes off the walls. I look up and see Mr. O’Malley holding his right arm. Another shot and then he drops too.
“You won’t get away with this,” he grunts.
“I already have,” Connor says as he scoops me into his arms.
“Hi.” I smile up at him, my head resting against his chest.
“I’m sorry,” he tells me, but I don’t need him to apologize. I close my eyes. Because, for the first time in days, I feel… at peace.