Maxwell makes a series of grunts and I walk closer, noting Marnie’s trouble and shedding my heels, enjoying the trimmed grass against my bare feet.
I’ve still got the ball Seb gave me in my hand, and I toss and catch it a few times, getting used to its weight.
“You want a go?” Seb asks, stepping aside and gesturing to the injured man like a proper gentleman.
“Don’t mind if I do.”
I stare at the man’s face. Not at the half obliterated by Seb but at the lines radiating out from his mouth, formed from his customary scowl.
I remember the scowl. I remember thinking no matter what I did, I always upset him. I remember most of all his fingers and how much they’d hurt, twisting, pinching, digging their nails into my flesh, making me squeal in pain for his gratification.
When I curl my arm back, I think he tries to move, tries to get away, but I pitch the ball right in the centre of his face, my lips parting as it makes a wet smack, jerking backwards, tumbling him in slow motion to the ground.
As soon as his body comes to a rest, I stamp on his fingers, twisting my bare heel into them, feeling them as well as hearing them crack, going back for seconds, thirds, fourths, going back until I’m sure they’re all broken.
I feel a rush as Richard runs past me and I give chase. He’s probably as scared now as I was back then, an equation that fills me with a thrill of satisfaction.
It was a shock when he stripped in front of me, masturbating to completion, but he was a gentle creepy weirdo. I’m not after vengeance. Just a little smack of justice will see me right.
He stumbles and I grab his shoulder, digging into my pocket for the knife. I slit his ear off, quick and clean, then push him away. He scrambles to his feet and runs again without needing to be told, and I spin on my heel, waggling my new trophy for Seb’s pleasure.
Other guests escape to either side of us, as Seb walks straight towards me, ditching the bat so he can pull me closer, hands behind my head as he claims my mouth like it’s another trophy. One I’ll gladly offer him whenever he needs.
“I love you,” I tell him, deciding there’s no point in holding onto my secrets any longer. “Even if you never love me back.”
“Of course, I love you back, you dolt.” He lays a trail of kisses along my jaw, ending with a nibble on my earlobe. “I should have told you that a long time ago. I should have been there for you instead of torturing you and it’ll take a lifetime to make it up to you, but luckily, I have one lifetime up my sleeve.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
SEB
As I stareinto Esme’s eyes, seeing more in them than I ever dared to hope I would, movement from my left side catches my eye. I retrieve the bat as Allain takes a tentative step in my direction, his eyes glancing up the curve of the hill.
There’s no one there coming to help him. All that’s left inside the house are a few loyal friends of my mother, laying out the next step in my plan.
The remaining staff, having been told what awaits them if they don’t follow directions, have already departed the scene. We accounted for them all, not wanting to leave anything to chance.
His security systems have been disabled. Calls to their head office, blocked. He was too cheap to hire actual security men for this event.
“Esme!” Marnie Black tentatively advances towards the two of us, not having run far. Her taut skin is waxy, eyes blurry with inebriation. “Tell your friend to put the bat down.”
Esme’s smile is beatific. “No. I don’t think so.”
Allain tries. “Listen to your mother—”
“She’s not my mother,” Esme snaps. “And you’re not my father. You’re two sick and twisted perverts who deserve everything that’s coming to you.” She hooks her eyebrow at me, questioning. “They have something coming to them, right?”
I sweep her back into my arms, kissing her, laughing against her cheek. Relieved to find her as enjoyable as always. Relieved that she’s not pushing me away.
A hand lands on my shoulder and I turn, swinging. Allain falls to his knees, blood gushing from his broken face.
Esme clutches my arm and there’s a split second where I think I’ve gone too far, that whatever weird bonds of malice that hold this family together are too strong to withstand the blow.
Then her smile returns; the sun peeking out from behind thunderclouds, shining silvery bright as it lights up the world.
I extend the bat towards her. “You want a turn?”
And her eyes look enraptured, the way I hoped they would.
