Page 107 of Mercy & Malice

He chortles, draining the rest of his whiskey. “You won’t get near me. All it takes is one phone call and you’re done. I’ll be rid of you, and you’ll be crying in your cell. Wishing you’d had listened to me. You’ll never outsmart me.”

“What makes you think I haven’t already?” I tilt my head to the side as I ask.

His stern demeanor wavers for a second before he spits, “You’re full of shit. You’ve always been all talk and no action. The same way you thought you were man enough to punish a weak little girl but couldn’t go through with it. You wouldn’t even make her pay for humiliating you. Like you really have the balls to come at me?” He laughs.

“Yes. Poison you actually.”

His face tenses as he states, “It’ll never happened. You don’t have the backbone to poison your own father.”

I make a show of looking at the clock on the wall. “Guess we’ll find out who’s right in a few more minutes.”

“You bastard. You come in here and threaten—” His mouth twists into a scowl as his head bobs slightly around. Confusion morphs on his face until his eyes finally land on the empty tumbler on his desk.

“What I really want to know before you’re no longer able to speak is how much do you regret teaching me that mind games are a punishment worse than death?” Death was too easy. After much research and medical guidance from an acquaintance, living in a useless shell sounded like the best plan. And if I fuck it up and he dies, it’s still a win-win.

“You son of a bitch.” He tries to stand but stumbles as he grips the side of his desk and falls back into his chair. “I will get you for this. You won’t win. You’re weak just like your mother. That bitch couldn’t hack it, and neither will you.”

“She wasn’t weak. She just wanted away from you so badly she didn’t consider the cost. And I get why.” Of course I wish she’d made a different choice than taking her own life, but I can also say I understand how making a permanent decision in a moment of desperation can cost you gravely.

He throws a few more slurs my way as he collapses to the floor.

Walking over to him, I stare down at the man who is the vilest human being I’ve ever known. “The best part is you will hear and feel every single thing that is being done around and to you. And you won’t be able to say a fucking word. No movement in your limbs, no ability to speak or communicate. You’ll be able to open your eyes. That’s about it. You’ll be bedridden and weak for the rest of your miserable fucking life. You’re about to take a stumble down the staircase, the stroke you’re having is a doozy. But don’t worry, Dad, Luca and I will preside over your medical care. There’s no chance we’ll let them pull the plug as long as you’re still breathing.”

Bending down, I tell him, “I hope you suffer through every ounce of the pain you’ve put out in the world, because you deserve every bit of it.”

I stand, watching as he fades a little further into his oblivion. The only thing left is his tumble down the stairs.

I’m the monster he created. But I can’t walk away from this. The monster he created is here to make him pay for what he’s done. and I’ll take whatever consequences come my way. Because he will suffer for the pain he inflicted on her. The fact that he thought that he could just walk away free, clear, and without consequence was his biggest mistake of all.

61

BROOKE

My mom’s name flashes across my phone screen. She looked hurt when I said I’d take the bus back to campus instead of riding back with her. But I just told her I wanted to stay with the team since we’re all supposed to ride the bus for away games per school policy. There’s no reason for her to make an exception to the rule for me. By the time the bus arrives at Belgrave, she calls again.

I’ll call when I’m in the car. But when I’m stepping off the bus, my phone rings again so I answer.

Her panicked voice is already speaking as I put the phone to my ear. “I’m on the way to the hospital. Vincent just called me and said Donald had a stroke. But he doesn’t have any other details yet.”

I don’t know what to say. Because I don’t want to be around him and I really couldn’t care less if the guy never recovers. It’d be best, right? One less evil man existing in the universe. When I look over to my car, I see Micah propped against the door, his arms folded, one ankle crossed casually over the other.

Mom informs me of the hospital Donald was brought to as I just say, “Okay.” Then hang up without saying if I’ll go or not. I don’t want to, but I hate leaving her there alone. Guilt. It literally still decides everything for me.

As I approach, I tell Micah, “We can’t do this right now. Your dad is in the hospital.”

“I know.” He pushes off, moving from in front of the door. “That’s why I’m here. I wanted to tell you the truth about what happened tonight.”

I stare at him for a few seconds, noting his calm, composed demeanor before I ask, “What did you do?”

His gaze drops to the ground before he looks me in the eye. “I drugged my father.” Micah pauses, gauging my reaction before he resumes his confession. “Then I pushed him down the stairs to explain the injuries I caused to make sure he’ll wake up paralyzed and completely immobile. He won’t be able to walk or talk. But he will still have his hearing and the ability to see everything going on around him. ”

That’s a lot to process, but I go back to the deal they made. “But he said he had proof that you killed Julian.”

“He did. I bought off the man who was keeping it for him. One thing about my father, he’s predictable. Luca and I knew that someone he was blackmailing would have the evidence. He’d never risk dealing with anyone he didn’t have a hold over.”

“Micah, you can’t trust some man who was willing to do that for your father.”

“No, not fully. But if Aldridge goes through with it, it’ll still be worth creating a prison for my father to live.”