I draw my gun and aim it between his eyes.
“What? You’re going to kill me like this? The great Lucifer? The legend of hired killers? After torturing my father, all I deserve is a bullet? I’m disappointed.”
“I didn’t torture your father just because he sold me. For that, I could’ve just put a bullet between his eyes. What mademe hate him was that he gave me something I never had, the illusion of a family, and then sold me off like a bunch of fucking bananas. That, I could never forgive.”
“And me? You know everything I did. I hate you, damn it. I’ll hate you even after I’m in hell.”
“I wanted to spend days torturing you. But I’ll give you a quick death and then go find my wife. I’ll tell her everything, and if Jackie asks how I killed you, I’ll tell her the truth. I’ve never lied to my woman. I’ve omitted things, yes. But lied? Never. So when I tell her I sent you to hell, I don’t think she’ll take it well if I also tell her I tortured you. That’s the only reason you’ll get such a quick death.”
I raise my hand and see his eyes widen in fear.
For the last time, I regret not being able to work on him the way I want. Then I pull the trigger.
Chapter 51
New Orleans
“The doctor told me everything’s fine. The sedative dose you were given won’t harm the baby,” Beau says from the doorway of the suite where I’m staying at their house.
I nod in agreement.
I had to tell them about the pregnancy before they sedated me again, but even so, when I woke up, I panicked. It was only when a second doctor came to examine me here in Louisiana that I finally calmed down.
I’m surprised to see him here. During the days of my previous stay at his house, he hardly spoke to me.
When I once commented to Lucifer about it, he answered honestly that his friend was probably still deciding whether he liked me or not, because Beau is as constant as a mountain, and his feelings about someone never change.
Back then, I assumed he didn’t like me. But since he picked me up at our home yesterday in New York, after the unknown man, whom I think must’ve been a special bodyguard,saved me from Martin and took me there, he’s been nothing but protective and kind.
“Where’s Lucifer?”
“You still want to see him?” He answers my question with another.
“Yes, I do. At least to talk.”
“At least?Sounds like you’re still weighing whether he deserves your forgiveness.” Despite his calm tone, I can sense his anger surfacing.
“My family took him in, and he repaid us by killing my father,” I say. But deep down, I feel confused, because now I’ve had time to process the little I know about the chaos my life became since yesterday.
I remember clearly the man who saved me from Martin calling my brother a pedophile.
Was my father one too? Is that why Lucifer killed him?
My heart breaks at the thought because even though the rules I was raised by say I must love and honor my family, I know this: Lucifer would never have killed my father, knowing how much it would devastate me, for no reason at all.
“If I were him, I’d have killed him too,” Beau says, confirming there was a reason behind it. “In fact, I’d have been much crueler.”
“Why are you here, talking to me?” I ask, trying not to shiver at his words. I need answers.
“Because Lucifer loves you so much he might not have the courage to destroy your illusions of a happy family. So I’m here to literally be the devil’s advocate.”
“What do you know?”
He walks to the window and stands with his back to me for several minutes. I’m propped up on pillows, too weak to get up, but at the same time, I want to rush to him and demand he tell me everything. Contradictorily, I also want to send himaway, because something tells me what I’ll hear will change me forever.
“Please, I need to know,” I finally decide.
He turns to face me. “Your father worked as a supplier for a group of pedophiles.”
