Chapter Forty-Nine - OLIVER
The front door of the house is open when we pull in up in my car. Pax jumps out and he’s running up the steps before I even get the Camaro in park. West and I follow a few seconds behind. Pax is in the living room, gun out, pointing it at each hallway and corner, like he’s clearing a war zone.
“They’re in back. Fighting.”
All three of us turn, and I swear to God, Paxton Vance is a hair-trigger away from blowing his mother’s head off.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he says, lowering the weapon. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I’m afraid this is where I come clean, Paxton.” She smiles, but it’s a sad smile. “We’re all going to come clean today. But there will be no day of reckoning if Katya Kalashova kills Mrs. Conrad before it’s over. So I suggest one of you go stop that from happening.”
“Shit,” I say, running through the kitchen. When I get to the porch I see Katya sitting on top of a bloody mess of fur that I think might be Weston’s mother.
“Kat!” I yell.
She looks up at me, covered in rage, and hate, and… sadness.
Pax and I reach her at the same time. He pulls her off, but she’s wielding a scalpel through the air like she’s gonna kill anyone who gets close.
“Kat,” I say, when Pax backs off.
She is like an animal. A cornered animal who has been abused so many times, for so long, that she no longer cares if she lives or dies.
She is mad. Crazy with the things she’s endured over her short life.
“Kat,” I say again. But she just spins, one arm outstretched. Her blade covered in blood. Dripping blood.
Pax leaves her to me and pulls Weston’s mother to her feet. She is spitting words at us, but I don’t hear any of it. I only hear the ragged breath of the girl I love as she comes to terms with her life.
“Kat,” I say, my arms outstretched. “Give me that blade.”
She shakes her head at me and then the tears start. They stream down her red cheeks, cutting through the dirt and filth that covers her face like brand-new scars. “My sister is gone. I’m going to prison. Who cares about anything anymore?” She looks over at Lucio Gori, who is nothing but a man encased in blood. “I killed him,” she sobs.
But I shake my head. “No, Kat. You defended yourself.”
“She is,” West’s mother yells. “Going to jail. That was not self-defense. That was murder.”
“Shut up.”
Every head turns to find West standing on the small back porch of the house.
“Just shut the fuck up,” he says as he descends. “If I have to hear one more lie—”
Cops come out behind him. Guns drawn, yelling things like, “Drop your weapon,” and “Hands in the air.”
Men in blue are everywhere after that. They are a swarm and they are pissed off that their little quiet college town just had a domestic terrorist attack and a murder all in the span of fifteen minutes.
Mariel is talking to them. Trying to explain what happened. How appalled she is that one day after closing on the house next door and witnessing a party that required her to call police almost a dozen times, she is now up to her neck in murder. How could this quaint little town be harboring such debauchery? Surely she should pack her bags for the safety of Kentucky before anything else happens.
If I wasn’t in handcuffs, I’d salute that woman for her cunning and patience.
But when she explains how the dead man was trying to rape the young woman in my arms, she drives the final nail in the coffin.
I almost smile at the irony.
But it’s not really ironic. He would’ve raped her. He did rape her. How many times, I might never know. But if anyone deserves the title of rapist, it’s Lucio Gori Senior.
I just wish he was alive so he’d have a chance to experience what it’s like to live with that label.
We are all taken to the police station. West and me and Pax in one end of the small holding area. Katya and Mrs. Conrad somewhere else out of sight. Mariel is there too, explaining how Pax and I heard the girl calling for help when we were walking up to visit her and ran to her aid.
Pax is grinning the whole time.
West, on the other hand…
“Weston,” his mother kept screaming, as she was handcuffed. “Tell them who I am! Tell them—”
He never even looked at her.
I have no idea where his father is, but he won’t get away.
Any time now the new evidence is gonna come in. I wait for it. I hope I am here to see it happen.
But no such luck. Nolan’s lawyers arrive and start throwing their weight around and two hours later, we have given the statements Mariel made us memorize this morning and we are all released.
When will I stop hoping?
When do I ever get lucky?