I open the front door, and she crouches to greet a very excited Fiasco… The Potato… I still can’t believe that’s what my brother named him. With tears in her eyes as she pets him, she looks up at me.
“I’m going to pack.”
“What do you mean, pack?” I ask, following her storming small body to Liam’s bedroom.
“Liam hates me, Joe.”
“Sara…” I pause, watching her sit on the bed and frantically holding herself, swaying back and forth. “Sara, look at me.”
She doesn’t, she zones into the empty floor like it’ll give her a place to go that can give her an escape.
“He doesn’t hate you, Sara… He loves you… too much. You scared him. He’s not used to feeling threatened. His heart, he’s not used to being on the edge of it getting ripped apart.”
Her eyes snaps to me, shivering. “I never wanted to rip it apart, Joe. They were going to hurt him, hurt you. I was so scared.”
I move beside her on the bed, engulfing her in my arms. “It’s going to be okay. Some things are behind us, and you're safe now. No one is trying to kill you anymore.” I chuckle and she looks up at me, those eyes I’ve always loved. Letting her go is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.
“That’s true,” she whispers, wiping her tears with her arm.
“Why don’t you sleep a little.” I brush her hair away and watch her lie down in the bed and tuck her in. She grabs one of Liam’s shirts against her chest as if she’s preparing herself to lose him.
“I’m going to check if we can restore the electricity and check on Mimi. I’ll have security posted just in case.”
She nods, and I walk out of the bedroom, leaving the door open this time so I can keep an eye on her. Always keep an eye on her.
I was one of her stalkers, after all.
Forty-Seven
Liam
Fred screams. I’d scream too if someone had shot me in the dick. He deserved it. I should’ve chopped it off and shoved it in his mouth to choke on. All these girl's lives he’s destroyed, probably raped some of them and one would call this a small price to pay. I’m too gentle and I feel murderous this morning,murderous. I’m actually surprised at how gentle I am being. Especially after Tyler told me he stopped two men from raping Sara. I’m grateful that fucker did something right, but it only infuriates me that she let herself be taken from Tyler.
Fred whimpers on the floor while Tyler freezes, running his hand through his hair as he stares into the void created by his disgusting adoptive father.
For a second, a flicker of relief and sadness appears on his face, and I’ve seen that look when I save these girls when they’ve lost hope of any other life for themselves. Tyler looks like I freed him and motherfucker is actually making me feel sorry for him.
I look at my watch, eight thirty am. Mateo gathers the folders, and Damien makes a call to our cleaning guys. I guess this is the perfect time to have breakfast before I shoot, kill, and bury my evil uncle.
“Let’s have some breakfast and get on with our lives.” I blurt out.
They all look at me as if I’ve lost it. I have. I truly have. I’ve been focused on one thing, and that’s breakfast because it’s the normalcy of every day. It anchors me to know that no matter what I face, life keeps going.
Riviera must see in my eyes that this has nothing to do with a damn breakfast. He’s right. I can’t even stomach an ounce of food. I would rather choke on food than my own thoughts of how broken I feel and will feel in the next couple of hours. Sara might not be dead, thank God for that, but in my story, in my heart, I need to kill her character.
“Yeah, bro… Okay, yeah. Let’s… have breakfast.” Riviera looks over at Mateo.
Truthfully, I’m as frozen as Tyler. I can barely speak any words… Where should I begin? I hate him… but he’s my blood, although for what he’s done to Sara, blood will never be enough.
“I’ll make some eggs,” Tyler says casually, a spoken language of trauma and haunting silence between all of us, but I stop him.
“Why did you put her on that boat, Tyler?” He must hear the tone in my voice between needing a truth that can hold metogether or his death sentence. Fred’s whimpers from bleeding out can only motivate him to choose his fate carefully.
He pauses with an egg carton in his hands, placing it back down on the kitchen counter.
“I knew you’d come for her. The men you killed in the underground, they were going to rape her. I stopped them.”
“Why?” I ask sternly.
