Angry rumbles of distant thunder had woken me up a few minutes ago. While I listened to the rain pelt my bedroom window, something repeatedly thudded on the floor below. The sound of the thunderstorm had masked the noise that came from downstairs, and I bolted up in bed when I heard a lamp topple over. As bright sheets of lightning lit up the night sky, I threw my covers back and hurried down the hall to my parents’ room. Their door was open, and the light was on, but neither of them were there.
“Griff—”
Mom?
I raced down the stairs and hurried to the only room that had a light on. I froze when my eyes settled on my parents. My father was straddling my mom, and his bloody hands were around her neck. Streaks of blood smeared on the hardwood floor beneath her blonde hair. In her hand was the cord to her favorite lamp that used to sit on the table between their reading chairs. A short distance away, the lamp with the stained-glass shade lay toppled on the floor.
“Griff,” she gurgled.
“Griffin,” my dad called out to me in a firmer tone.
I looked at him and then quickly back to my mom. She was struggling to breathe.
“Griffin, son, I need your help,” he said as my mom’s hands tried to claw at his face.
He leaned his head back out of her reach and shook her neck violently. I quickly learned that it was her head hitting the floor that had been making the thudding noise.
“Griffin,” my dad urgently said and drew my attention to him. “Griffin, remember our man-to-man talk not that long ago?” I nodded. “Remember what I told you about women? Remember what I said about how they can’t be trusted and will cheat on you?” I nodded as I recalled our talk a few weeks ago on my twelfth birthday. “Your mother has been cheating.” My mother continued to grab and claw at my dad’s hands and arms. “Not only on me, though. She’s been cheating on you too. The son of a bitch she’s been seeing also has a son. She bakes with him, helps him with his homework. She was replacing both of us. She doesn’t love us anymore.”
What?
I turned to look at my mom’s pale face. Our eyes met, and I couldn’t tell if she was sorry or not.
“Griffin, I need you to show me that you’re a man and help me put an end to it. Come over here and hold her arms down.”
I didn’t feel as though I was even walking toward them, but I ended up kneeling in her blood, pressing my hands down on her wrists. Through my tears, I looked into her eyes. Weakly, she stretched her hands up and wrapped them around my wrists and forearms. It wasn’t an act of aggression, but I thought she was telling me goodbye.
My eyes shotopen as the thunder continued to roll from last night’s storm, pulling me away from my hell of eighteen years ago. Soft glowing green lights on my nightstand told me it wasn’t quite five in the morning yet. Adrenaline pumped through my veins while my pulse continued to race from the abrupt wake-up. It was too late to try to go back to sleep. I had to be in the office today, and I needed to stop by my aunt and uncle’s place on my way. We planned on riding to work this morning as Uncle Lars wanted to discuss details for this weekend’s party at his place.
The posh parties were typically a guarantee for a variety of sex, and I was looking forward to that part. Being the wealthy son of Miles Evans certainly had its perks. After my grandfather died, my father ran the company with Lars as his second in command. I was set to inherit Evans Financial and would be the CEO after Lars felt I was ready.
I tossed back the white sheets and stretched when my feet hit the dark hardwood floors, then strolled to the window. Sliding the blackout curtains to the sides, I could see low-lying fog hovering over the lake out back. A light drizzle of rain still fell, which negated my idea of going out for a jog this morning. I liked to jog in the mornings following the nightmares because it helped me shake the memories from my conscience.
That wasn’t going to be possible today. I read the news and had multiple cups of coffee as I ate breakfast until it neared seven o’clock. While standing in my walk-in closet, I dressed in charcoal Italian wool pants, a black button-down shirt, and a black tie with faint navy diagonal lines. Giving myself a glance of approval, I grabbed my silver Omega watch and put it on as I walked down the stairs. The weather still looked shitty, so I grabbed my overcoat and headed out.
While driving to their estate in the drizzling rain, I thought about the few meetings I needed to attend today. I’d grown tired of these bullshit tasks and was ready to move up at least to second in charge. What more was I required to do to prove my worth and loyalty to the company? My name should've been enough.
I drove along the familiar private road that stretched about seventy yards from the main road to my aunt and uncle’s estate. My father had a heart attack at work shortly after my mother was killed. At twelve, I came to live with my mother’s sister, Marlowe, and her husband, Lawrence.
Quickly, I dashed up the red brick steps to the door so as to not linger in the rain. Aunt Marlowe had been talking in the entryway with Audrey, their maid, and when I stepped inside, their conversation broke up. Audrey hurried toward me, greeted me with a smile, and took my coat.
“Are the roads bad out there?” Audrey asked as she hung up my coat.
I shook my head and gave her my assessment of the roads as my aunt listened in. Audrey had been with Aunt Marlowe and Uncle Lars before I moved in as a kid, and she had always been kind to me.
“Come in and have some coffee, Griffin,” my aunt suggested.
I followed her to the country-style kitchen and sat at the table that overlooked their fog-covered lake in the back. Faintly in the background, I could hear a hand spanking flesh. I remained quiet until Audrey brought over a mug filled with coffee and then left the kitchen.
“Where’s Uncle Lars?” I asked innocently.
“He’s disciplining Riley,” my aunt whispered.
I raised my eyebrow at her.
Riley was Audrey’s fourteen-year-old son and lived here. We were sixteen years apart in age, so even when I lived here, I never really got to know Riley. He was always around, though, and I’d heard he was as smart as a whip, but often in trouble. Audrey, being a single mom and trying to keep a grip on her son, had turned to Lars many times to discipline Riley and help guide him.
“What did he do?” I inquired, just before I took a sip from my pale blue mug.
