I’ve lost count of the number of parties I’d been to my entire life. In a lot of ways, they had all been useless and predictable. I would leave each one swearing to myself that that one was the last, only to find myself at another one and dying of boredom, except the one that had changed my life, the one where I first fell in love with Gabby. That was one I would never forget.

A funeral wasn’t exactly a party, but it was a Thornton event which made it extremely sought after, especially given the circumstances.

The manor was a jungle of noise and faces, a circus where everyone was dressed in elegant black. Marcella’s casket was placed amongst a forest of roses, not exactly funeral material, but they had been her favorite, or so David kept telling everyone with just enough emotion to almost make me believe he cared.

I wasn’t convinced. A man like David, someone who hurt young girls and had sexual thoughts about his own daughter, was incapable of feeling. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he really had loved Marcella. But the odds were slim.

No one came to offer Gabby their sympathies. No one was sorry for her loss. The crowd huddled around Cordelia and David, a horde of flies around a mound of shit. The majority fawning over David were women. Those offering their condolences to Cordelia were men. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what was happening.

David Thornton was officially single, a filthy rich bachelor. And Cordelia was young, beautiful, and vulnerable.

No one was there for the woman in the casket, except Gabby.

The moment we entered through the open front doors, she made a straight line to the parlor. I stayed close, but left her to continue without me at the parlor doors, giving her the space she needed to say her goodbyes.

She was the only one there, ironic considering there were hundreds of people there to see Marcella. But it gave Gabby the privacy she deserved, so I couldn’t complain.

Gabby wore a simple, black dress with a U collar and teacup sleeves. The top part clung to her chest and hugged her waist before flaring at the hips and falling nearly to her knees. There were flats on her feet and a satin, black ribbon fastening her hair to the back of her neck.

She appeared so small, too vulnerable. All I wanted was to gather her up into my arms and hold her until she was no longer so rigid.

But I didn’t.

I remained just a few feet behind her, close enough to be there if she needed, but far enough away not to crowd her.

The truth of the matter was, I didn’t know how to behave. Since I told her the news, she hadn’t exactly acted the way a normal person would. She barely seemed affected. I kept waiting for her to fall apart, or realize what this meant, but the last three days had been reasonably normal. She spent most of it cleaning the house, or making calls to her school and Professor Weber. She did some homework and we made love several times, but never any mention of her mother’s death.

I didn’t have the best relationship with my mother. I only saw the woman, at the most, ten times in a whole year and only during social events. But I would still be sad if she died. I would still be heartbroken, because no matter what kind of mother she had been, she was still my mother.

Gabby didn’t seem to have that mindset.

I didn’t judge her for it. I couldn’t imagine what her life had been like with that family. I don’t think I would have come back if I were her, not when Marcella had done nothing to protect Gabby her entire life. What kind of mother allowed that? I rarely ever saw my mother, but when I had needed her for something that happened at school, or when I got in trouble, she had always been the first one to fly out and straighten things out. She had always — in a sense — been in my corner, taking my side ... well, the Kincaid name’s side; whatever I did reflected on the family. But I always liked to believe she did it for me as well.

“Hey you made it.”

I turned at the sound of Eric’s voice, but it was the steadiness of it that startled me, the fluidity of it.

He stood in a crisp, pristine tux, tie done up, shoes shined, hair a perfect helmet combed back from his cleanly shaven face. Eyes the clear blue of a summer afternoon peered back, clear and focused.

“Eric?”

His grin was lopsided with a sardonic quirk perking up one side. “Were you expecting someone else?”

At a loss for words, I only just shook my head.

Eric stepped around me until he was between me and the open doorway to the parlor. He peered in to where Gabby stood at the casket, small hands knuckle-white around the edges, head bent low as if in prayer.

“Mom didn’t know half these people,” he surmised with a dismissive jerk of his shoulder. “Half of them hated her. The other half, she hated. The irony, right?”

Still too wrapped up in the sight of the man sober, I wasn’t fast enough to formulate an answer.

“But she would have liked that you came.” His head tipped in my direction, an almost puppy dog gesture. “You were like a second son to her.”

I finally found my voice.

“I’m really sorry for your loss, man.” I offered him a hand. “She was a great lady. She’s going to be missed.”

He accepted the shake, but there was a pause before the contact, a subtle hesitation of someone amused by an enemy’s uncharacteristic gesture.

“Thanks, and yeah, she was and she will be.” He unfurled his fingers first and pulled back, but remained where he was, watching Gabby again. “I never cared about her. Gabrielle,” he clarified when I felt my eyebrows twitch in confusion. “From the day Mom brought her home, she never meant a thing to me. I didn’t love her, like her, or hate her. She was like a pet that everyone decided to get, but never asked if I wanted, but I was fine with that. She never took anything away from me. She never got in my way. Honestly,” he peered over at me, “I barely knew she was here half the time. She was like this little mouse that scurried in and out of the walls, so careful not to be seen. But Cordy always knew. Maybe because it was another girl in the position to steal away our parent’s attention, but Cordy hated her with a passion one usually reserved for rapists and child molesters.” He chuckled. “I guess in Cordy’s eyes, that’s exactly what Gabrielle was.”

The words came to a slow halt, not as if he’d run out of things to say, but more like he was waiting for all of that to sink in before divulging the rest. So, I said nothing and waited for him to continue.

“I didn’t expect to see her here,” Eric went on slowly, eyes on Gabby once more. “Not today. Not ever. Once she walked out those doors, I really thought that would be the end of it. Yet, every Sunday, there she was, this tiny ghost huddled in some corner, counting the minutes until she could leave.”

“Did you know?” The question evicted from my mouth without consent and hung in the heavy perfume of roses pouring from the parlor. “About the things he was doing to her?”

Time spanned between us as he remained lost in his own head and I stood waiting for an answer, an answer I wasn’t wholly certain I wanted to hear. Eric and I had been friends for years, closer than brothers. If he had known ... if he had stood by and let Gabby get hurt based on his lack of interest, funeral or not, I couldn’t guarantee I wouldn’t flatten the guy.

“Eric?”

“She sent me a text just before.”

I blinked at the unexpected response. “What?”

His hand slipped into his pocket and returned holding his phone. He held it out to me without a word.

It was unlocked, coming alive in my grasp with just a swipe of my thumb across the screen. The name across the top read Mom, followed underneath by a gray block containing Marcella’s final words.

“The world knows. Everything I’ve fought to protect, to hide is out in the open, in print, waiting to ruin our family. I can’t watch everything I’ve worked towards fall apart because of one mistake I made. Maybe I should have listened to your father and aborted. Maybe things could have been different then. Maybe Kieran would have married Cordelia. Maybe Gabrielle wouldn’t be in danger and he wouldn’t be threatening our family now. I don’t know if that would have changed what we’re facing, but I know he will never forgive me. Not after this. He will punish me and I’m not strong. I can’t fight anymore. I’m so tired, baby. My only regret in all this is how it will affect you. I want so much for you to be happy, my sweet baby boy. You’re my brightest light, my reason for fighting for as long as I have. It was your face that kept me sane. Don’t ever forget that. Don’t forget how much I love you. I wish we could have had more time and we will. Now that I’m free, I can finally be with you always. You just might not see me, but I’m there. I promise. Your ever loving mother, forever with kisses.”

“Jesus.” I hadn’t realized I’d spoken out loud until Eric chuckled.

“Yeah, crazy, right?” But there was a thickness in his voice I didn’t miss, nor did I acknowledge, because that was not what men did. “He killed her.”

I didn’t know what to say, or if there was anything to say. I could only stare at the words, no longer reading them, but unable to look away.

“We all knew,” he went on, quieter now. “You don’t miss the crying, or that initial crack of a slap. You can’t overlook the bruises the next morning. But we all did, because it wasn’t us and she was nothing to us.”

“She was your sister.” Text message forgotten, I lifted my gaze to the man standing before me, rage working up from my belly to fill my throat. “She was your baby sister. You were her older brother. You were supposed to protect her.”

“Was I?” Eric glanced back at me, one eyebrow raised. He seemed to consider his own question, then shrugged. “Perhaps I was ... if we were in a different family, in a different life. In this one, she was nothing to me.”

I wanted to punch him in the mouth. I nearly did but he unexpectedly turned his entire body to me as if already waiting for it. The motion startled my fists into pausing. He glanced at them, then back up at me, his expression brutally uncaring.

“What did she mean you threatened her?”

The perpetual hopping was making it impossible to keep up with the strings of conversation, but I doubted he meant threatening Gabby. One, because I never would, and two, because he already made it clear he wouldn’t care if I had.

“Perhaps you should ask your father,” I opted, already knowing that wouldn’t be enough. He was on a mission and my half answer would not cover his satisfaction.

“I’m asking you.”

At the casket, Gabby straightened. Her tiny frame moved as if to draw away, but she remained over her mother’s corpse. I wondered if she was still praying, or cursing the woman.

“He took Gabrielle,” I mumbled, keeping my voice low. “He had her in some ... sex dungeon. I told him I would ruin him if he didn’t give her back.”

Eric hummed and bobbed his head slowly. “He always was sick in the head. He took me once to this ... club, I guess. The women were strung up with fish hooks to the ceilings.” He gave his head a hard shake as if dislodging that memory. “The hooks were pinned through their skin. Their arms, legs, backs ... pussies. There was blood everywhere. The floor was slippery with it and the whole place smelled of piss and pennies.” He kept rocking his head. “There were men fucking the girls, with the hooks still ... attached to them. They were sobbing and begging them to stop, but no one did. Every so often, a hook would tear and the girl would scream...” He raised a hand and scratched at his cheek bone with one finger. “I was sixteen.” He laughed unexpectedly. “I couldn’t get that image out of my head for months. I couldn’t sleep without an entire bottle of whiskey first. Never told my dad, of course. Christ, he’d skin me alive and pin me to the ceiling like those girls. I was a Thornton. I’m supposed to have nerves and balls of steel.”

His story brought to mind my adventure with my own father and I wondered if it was some kind of rite of passage. Maybe all fathers took their sons to torture chambers as some proof of manhood. Who knew? But it did explain why Eric had been such a messy drunk.

“But anyway,” he went on with a wave of his hand. “That’s not important anymore. I see you got her back and she looks unharmed so I’m assuming it all went well.”

He never asked why a father would take his daughter to a sex dungeon. He didn’t even seem phased by the reasoning behind it. I didn’t know how to take that.

“Not all scars are visible,” I muttered.

Eric nodded. “This is also true. So,” he glanced at me questioningly, “is she all right?”

He never failed to surprise me.

“She will be.”

Again, he bobbed his chin and faced the casket once more. “Good. That’s good. I think she deserves it more than any of us. And I’m glad she has you. You’ll be good for her. I mean, I never saw it coming, but...”  his mouth turned up in a rueful grin. “I seem to have missed a lot the past few years.”

Gabby took that moment to turn away from the casket. Her eyes were bloodshot and red rimmed, but there were no tears on her cheeks. They widened when they spotted Eric. I wasn’t sure if it was the sight of her brother that had her pausing, or that he was actually sober. Whichever it was, she overlooked it quickly and started forward.

“Eric.”

He inclined his head slightly. “Gabrielle.”

Both stood and awkwardly stared at each other, neither saying anything for several seconds.

“I’m sorry,” she said at last. “I know she loved you dearly.”

Eric only nodded, but didn’t repeat the sentiment. It didn’t seem to bother Gabby.

“Are you leaving?” he asked instead.

“Yes.”

“That might be best,” Eric mused. “I’m assuming we won’t be seeing you for Sunday dinners anymore?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Good.” But it wasn’t said maliciously. If anything, there was relief in the response. “I have a feeling it won’t matter much after today.”

Gabby said nothing, but turned her attention to me. I had my hand out to her before she even reached for it and her tiny fingers slipped seamlessly through mine. I drew her to me and tucked her in close, giving her all the comfort I could with just that touch.

Eric looked between us, his gaze assessing. I wasn’t sure what he was searching for, but it curled his lips when he seemed to find it.

“Take care of her, yeah?” he said to me. “She’s the only Thornton you’ll be seeing for a while. As tarnished and broken as it may be, someone has to carry the line. Someone needs to make sure people don’t forget we existed.”

By the time Gabby and I exchanged bemused glances, Eric had spotted something over our shoulders and was leaving our trio to join a group of men at the end of the corridor.

He said something and ushered them away.

“Can we leave?” Gabby as as we started towards the main part of the house. “I don’t want to run into David.”

I peered down at her. “I’ll stay for as long as you need to.”

She was quiet as we reached the foyer. Her green eyes took in the gold and crystal, the lavish display of wealth. She lingered on the stairway leading up to the bedrooms. Her bottom lip curled beneath her nipping teeth.

“I’d like to see my room before we go, if that’s okay?”

My answer was a palm against her lower back and a gentle nudge in the direction she indicated.

We started up, the worn carpet muffling our ascension. At the top, I let her take the lead.

“I wasn’t allowed to take anything, except my clothes and your journal when I left,” she murmured softly, turning right. “I had to hide it in my suitcase or I’m sure I wouldn’t have been allowed otherwise.”

The corridor stretched on for what felt like forever, curving slightly the deeper we went. The row of doors and oil paintings ended, becoming smooth walls on either side to the very end where a single door stood, simple and brown, opposed to the cream and gold of all the other doors.

Gabby peered back at me from over her shoulder, her hand resting on the simple doorknob. “You don’t have to come in.”

I started to tell her she wasn’t going anywhere without me, but she’d already pushed the door open and was stepping inside.

It radiated blue and black, a sinister dankness reserved for horror movies. Grimy, dull light oozed through sheer drapes over a single window in one corner, illuminating hardwood floors and not much else, despite it being the midafternoon. Nothing came into view until the lights were slapped on, but even then, the duo of light bulbs overhead cast a sickly, yellow glow over the dusty furnishings, of which there were barely any.

A twin sized bed was pushed into one corner. Next to it was a single end table that matched the dresser on the opposite side of the room. Three, low bookshelves formed an L along the third and fourth wall, each one stuffed with battered copies of textbooks.

“I always thought if I read smart books, I would get smart enough to escape,” Gabby said, catching me studying the spines. “I stole all those from Eric, believe it or not.” She offered me a conspiratorial grin. “He never noticed.”

I heard myself snort. “That explains why he could never find his books in class.”

She moved away from me and drifted towards the bed.

There were no posters on the walls, no pictures on the dressers. It held the basic emptiness of a prison cell.

“This was your bedroom?”

My dorm rooms held more life and color. I was sure even prisoners were allowed ... more. This was depressing to the extreme. Hell, even her apartment had been more cheerful.

“Yes.”

To my surprise, she went on her knees, one hand braced on the wooden bedframe. Her ponytail swung over one shoulder and brushed the floor, leaving streaks where it disturbed the dust. She reached beneath, nearly disappearing to the waist. I started forward, ready to help, but she was already pulling free.

In her hands, she held the ugliest teddy bear I’d ever seen in my life. It was a patchwork of sewn bits of old cloth and only the odd clump of brown, matted fur. It was missing both eyes and his nose was coming undone, straggly bits of thread poking up like spider legs. All four limbs must have fallen off at some point and were crudely stitched back into place, but badly; the left arm was nearly by the left leg and the right leg was dangling from the middle of his crotch. The poor thing had been through hell and back, but Gabby brushed him off lovingly, sending a shower of dust into the stream of light coming from the window. They glittered as they joined all the others across the floor.

She pushed to her feet and faced me, bear hugged to her midsection.

I looked from her to the bear, then back, but I didn’t ask; if she was willing to return to that hole for it, I wasn’t going to stop her from keeping it.

“Ready?” I asked instead.

She nodded.

We walked out together. She shut off the light and closed the door on that part of her life for the last time — if I had anything to say about it. I captured the hand closest to me, the one not gripping the ratty toy, and guided us back.

The people were gone.

The foyer was empty, the front doors closed.

I checked my watch, half certain the ceremony was supposed to be an all-day affair, ending with the lowering of the casket into the Thornton family plot later that evening. Even Gabby’s eyebrows had pulled together. Her gaze roamed over the foyer, searching for signs of life.

At the bottom, we both stopped and stared at the utter emptiness of the place.

“Do you think they went to the cemetery already?” I asked.

Gabby lifted one shoulder in uncertainty. “We should go.”

No sooner had she spoken when the unmistakable crack of heels reverberated along the walls and vibrated beneath our feet. We both exchanged glances just as a willowy figure rounded the corner and skittered to a stop at the sight of us.

Cordelia batted thick lashes equally startled. “What the hell is going on?” she demanded. “Where is everyone?”

My fingers reflexively tightened around Gabby’s.

“Come on.”

Instinct had me propelling us in the direction of the front doors. My whole focus rotated around a single, basic necessity: to get Gabby out of that place. I didn’t care if I was being paranoid. I wasn’t taking any chances, not with those people.

“Oh good, everyone’s here.”

We’d barely made it across the room when Eric appeared from the same direction as Cordelia, his pace brisk, his features set.

“Eric?” Cordelia turned to her brother. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Eric checked his watch, then scanned the room. “Where’s Father?”

“Eric!” Cordelia snapped again.

I nudged Gabby back and placed myself slightly in front of her, blocking her from the pair glowering at each other.

Eric must have noticed the movement, because he tore his attention away from his sister to focus on us.

“You’re still here?” He checked his watch again. “I thought you were leaving.”

“We are,” I said briskly. “We were just about to.”

He nodded slowly, a gesture he seemed to be in the habit of doing a lot. I briefly wondered if he’d always been a frequent nodder, but decided it wasn’t the time.

“You should probably head out,” he decided evenly. “I’d like a word with sadistic Father and my dear, cold-hearted, bitch of a sister.”

Cordelia sputtered, but was ignored.

“We’ll leave you to it,” I stated, already nudging Gabby further towards the doors.

But something caught Eric’s eye and his gaze dropped to the bear in her hands. He blinked once and his eyebrows shot up on his forehead. His mouth curved into a massive grin that actually showed teeth.

“Theodore Roosevelt, you son of a bitch. I’ve been wondering what happened to you.”

Cordelia, momentarily distracted, stared at the toy as well. “Is that that filthy thing you accused me of throwing away?” Her voice rose an octave, becoming sharp nails when it rebounded off the walls. “You burned all my porcelain dolls over that piece of shit!” Anger blazed behind her eyes, illuminating them like blue flames. They rounded with murderous fury towards Gabby. “You stupid bitch! You stole it!”

She took a single step forward only to come up short when Eric blocked her path.

“Are we still children?” he asked her with a calm uncharacteristic to his usual manner. “It’s a stuffed bear, they were stupid, ugly dolls.”

“I loved them!” Cordelia shrieked.

“You’ve never loved anything in your life,” Eric retorted with that same easy declaration. “I’m over it, and you should be, too.” Ignoring her snarl, he pivoted around to me and Gabby. “I should have known, honestly. You were the only person I never thought to ask when he went missing.” He peered down at the bear again. “But at least he got plenty of love in my absence.”

“This is insane,” Cordelia blurted. “Where’s Father? Where is everyone?”

“I sent them home,” Eric declared without missing a beat. “You, Father, and I are going to have a long overdue conversation. I think we should use the parlor, don’t you think? Mom’s already there, so it’ll be symbolic.”

“What the hell are you talking about? What’s the matter with you?”

I was wondering the same thing. In all the years I’d known him — granted, he was drunk and high for most of it — I had never seen Eric like this. He’d never been so calm, so ... detached. There was an eerie coldness to him that was making my spine prickle.

“Gabby, we should go,” I murmured just for her ears.

She didn’t protest, but she did step away from me and start towards Eric. The unforeseen decision spurred my panic. I nearly lunged after her, but she was already moving away from me.

Without a word, she pressed the bear into Eric’s hands.

Eric glanced from it to her and almost grinned. “Keep him, but you need to go now.”

Gabby took it back with a quiet murmur of thanks.

I reclaimed her fingers when she returned to me. My grip was a bit tighter than was probably necessary, but I wasn’t letting her turn back a second time when I forcibly marched her to the doors and out. Gravel sprayed beneath our hurried strides. I was practically dragging her after me in my determination to get her to the car. My free hand dug out the keys.

My muscles didn’t uncoil until we were nearly four blocks from the manner. Even then, I kept glancing into my rear view mirror, half expecting to see a mushroom cloud pluming up over the treetops. Ridiculous, but the ominous sensation of just having escaped something horrible wouldn’t shake loose until we were just pulling into our driveway.

“Kieran?”

I hadn’t realized we’d stopped and I was still clutching the wheel until Gabby touched my arm lightly.

“I’m okay,” I lied.

“No, you’re not,” she whispered. “Because I know I’m not.” She bit her lip before I could see the tremble, but not quick enough. “He’s going to do something terrible.”

I said nothing.

I pushed open my door and threw myself out into the brisk, late October chill. My skin prickled in all the places cold sweat had collected. It dampened my clothes to clammy flesh and I had to roll my shoulders to shake it loose.

At her door, I eased her out and pulled her into my arms. My lips stamped into the hollow at her temple.

“I love you,” I told her.

“Even if—?”

I cut her off. “No matter what.”

Her nose was cold when it brushed the side of my neck. The brush of her lips warmed it almost immediately after.

“Let’s get inside.” I started to pull back. “We’ll get out of these clothes, take a shower and—”

I never got to finish when a white cruiser turned in behind my car. Its lights were off, but the grim expressions on the two police officer’s faces when they ducked out were all serious. In my arms, Gabby stiffened, but remained where she was.

“Mr. Kincaid?” the driver asked, coming the long way around my car to stand on the other side of the hood. His partner hovered by the trunk, properly blocking us in.

“Yes?” I turned my body to face them at an angle each while keeping Gabby just behind me.

The driver fished out a pen and notepad from his breast pocket and flipped it open. The pen was clicked once, all business.

“I’m Officer Hale, and this is my partner, Officer Friske. We’re here regarding a missing person’s report made by Watchtower Security.”

I should have known they would call the police. Of course they would. Jeremy may have known the risks of being a bodyguard, but even he was a person and his absence would definitely be missed.

“Is this about Jeremy?” I inquired.

Officer Hale neither denied, nor confirmed my question. “We were informed that Mr. Myles was under your employment when he went missing. Is that correct?”

Rather than respond, I closed the passenger side door and turned in the direction of the house.

“Would you gentlemen like to come inside? We can talk more comfortably there,” I offered, already making my way to the doors with Gabby’s hand in mine.

“What are you going to tell them?” Gabby hissed under her breath.

“The truth,” I stated simply.

They followed us in and I took them into the main sitting area, the one overlooking the driveway and their cruiser. My offer of coffee was declined and we took the two sofas opposite to each other.

“So, was Mr. Myles under your employment during his disappearance?” Hale repeated, pen poised over his notepad.

“He was,” I confirmed. “And I reported him the moment I realized he was missing.”

“To the police?”

I shook my head. “To his company.”

Hale peeked down at his notes. “Mr. Myles was in the security business and you hired him for yourself?”

I knew that he knew that wasn’t the case, but I also knew he wouldn’t ask me any straight questions, which meant I would have to be careful with my answers.

“For Gabby,” I replied. “Jeremy was supposed to be with her during her daily activities when I couldn’t be.”

“Gabrielle Thornton?” Hale glanced at his pad once more, then pointed the end of his pen towards Gabby. “That would be you, is that correct?”

Next to me, Gabby nodded.

“It says here that you were missing as well.” He snapped his pad shut and fixed his gaze squarely on her. “Yet, you’re sitting right in front of me and Mr. Myles is dead, so can you tell me what happened?”

To her credit, her voice barely wavered as she retold her story to the police. She told them everything, right from the very beginning. I didn’t stop her. The more they knew would lessen the chances of them accusing her of somehow killing a fully grown man and hiding his body.

By the end of it, Hale had filled eight pages of notes and was still scribbling away while we waited for him to finish. His partner remained mute, but watchful, studying us. His expression hadn’t changed once in the last fifteen minutes. I was beginning to think he’d turned into a statue, or fallen asleep sitting up.

“I have to be honest.” Hale raised his head and fixed us with his dark eyes. “This is probably the craziest case I have ever had to deal with and I’ve been on the force for nearly fifteen years.” He rubbed a large hand over his face and back into his brown hair. “We’re going to need to corroborate what you’ve told us. We’ll need the numbers for this...” he consulted his notes. “Tiberius Rutherford, your professor, and your father.”

I dug out my phone and gave him Weber’s number, and David’s.

“I don’t have Tiberius’s,” I said, stashing the device away once more. “But I can tell you where you can find him.”

“Have you found Jeremy?” Gabby cut in once I’d finished rattling off the warehouse address.

Hale, to my surprise, nodded. “We got his location from the man who killed him in the first place.”

“What?” Gabby and I blurted on unison.

Hale and his partner cast sidelong glances at each other, communicating in that way partners did when they’d been together for a long time. Finally, Hale fixed his attention back on us with a resignation of someone about to do something that went against his moral compass.

“Do you know a Wilkens Ansel?”

I didn’t, but Gabby nodded. “He’s David’s driver.”

Hale accepted that with a twist of his lips. “His home was broken into last night and he was badly beaten.”

“Oh my God!” Gabby gasped.

Hale continued. “His wife and children were left unharmed so we believe it was a targeted attack. Luckily for us, he managed to fight back. One assailant fled the scene. The other was rendered unconscious in the struggle and we were able to take him into custody.” He paused, tapped his pen against the open page of his pad. He glanced at his partner again briefly before focusing on Gabby again. “They were hired by your father. We’re not yet clear why, but we believe it has something to do with the incident three days ago.”

“What incident?” Gabby squeaked, voice muffled behind the hands she’d mashed to her mouth.

Hale scratched his jaw absently. “Bruce Paxton was found dead. He’d fallen out of his office window.”

Gabby made a choking sound. Her hands dropped from her face and flattened against her stomach. All the color in her cheeks were gone, making her eyes enormous against the stark contrast.

“Did you know Mr. Paxton?” Hale prompted.

The jerk of her head spilled the tears clinging to her lashes. “He was David’s lawyer.”

Hale nodded in confirmation. “We have video surveillance showing Mr. Thornton leaving Paxton’s office right after the accident. We think the two incidents may be connected with what happened to your bodyguard and ultimately, you.”

I didn’t see the connection other than that David was a psychopath with serial rapist and killer tendencies. It brought to mind all the girls he’d hurt in the past and if any of them actually survived. For all anyone knew, he could have killed hundreds of people and used his power and money to conceal the crimes. It wouldn’t have been the first time.

“But we’re still investigating,” Hale finished, closing his pad. “The information you’ve given us will help us bring those responsible to justice.”

No sooner had he finished speaking when the walkies strapped to their shoulders crackled to life. A woman’s voice, garbled and barely intelligible hissed a series of codes words that had both men reaching for the devices.

The partner reached it first. He brought the talkie to his mouth and responded briskly.

“This is unit one-four, copy.”

The voice returned with more cryptic words and numbers that meant nothing to me, but had the two officers staring hard at each other.

“Copy,” Friske responded. “We’re with them now.”

Gabby’s head turned and I found myself caught in her fear. I took her hand, assuring her that, no matter what, I would keep her safe.

“Ms. Thornton,” Friske shifted his body forward in his seat. “Do you know an Eric Thornton?”

Gabby nodded, but said nothing.

The two officers passed another look between them.

“There’s been another incident.”

CURSED.

It was whispered in hushed hisses as stretcher after stretcher was wheeled down the steps of Thornton manor to the waiting ambulances. White sheets stained in splotches of crimson seemed to glow in the bright canopy of sunlight, leaving no mistake in anyone’s mind that there were no survivors.

Next to me, huddled just off to one side, away from the prodding eyes of neighbors, media cars, cops, and paramedics, Gabby stood rigid and pale. The skirt of her mourning dress swayed in the brisk breeze, twisting around her naked thighs. She seemed unaffected by the cold.

I hadn’t wanted her to be there. I had protested vehemently. Nevertheless, somehow, I found myself behind the wheel of my car, following Hale and Friske back to the place I’d sworn to myself I would never let Gabby return to.

The crowd had already been there, gathered just behind a wide stretch of caution tape. They kept getting jostled and moved every time one ambulance left and a new one arrived; the driveway wasn’t nearly large enough for the number of vehicles and busybodies. But no one wanted to leave. What should have been a time for privacy and respect was filled with gossip and rolling cameras. Their lack of compassion made me want to kill someone.

“We have a live one!”

The announcement sent the circus into a frenzy. Camera shutters snapped, voices rose, bodies pressed forward, stretching the yellow tape in their excitement to see which Thornton survived.

Gabby never moved. She barely blinked. Her expression was a mask of sadness and hope. The latter crumbled when David was wheeled out, an oxygen mask strapped to his face. He was rolled into the ambulance and sealed in. Unlike the others, the siren squealed to life. Lights flashed as the vehicle roared down the road.

“He lives,” she murmured so quietly, I almost didn’t hear her over all the chaos.

I started to face her, but she was already turning away, arms clasped around her stooped frame. She started back to the car, ignoring or not noticing the microphones being shoved at her as hard as the questions being hurled. They were held back by several uniformed officers, allowing Gabby to pass unharmed.

I waited a full second longer to watch the forth stretcher being brought out, the body concealed beneath the sheets.

Marcella, maybe? Cordelia and Eric had already been taken away. David was on his way to the hospital. There hadn’t been anyone else in the house, except Marcella. But it didn’t make sense that they would take her on a stretcher. She was already in a coffin.

I made my way to where Hale stood in deep discussion with another officer. Both looked up when I approached.

“What happened?” I demanded.

Hale finished whatever the two had been talking about before fixing me with his full attention.

“From what we can tell so far, Eric Thornton arrived with the intention of killing his father and sister. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

I frowned at the implication. “Of course not. Why would I?”

“Because, Mr. Kincaid, you’re with the only surviving sister, which makes me think either Eric let her go intentionally, or she was next on his list. Did you see Eric at the funeral?”

I nodded. “It was his mother’s funeral, so yes.”

“Did you talk to him?”

“Briefly,” I admitted.

“What about?”

His notepad was out again, his pen poised on a clean page.

“His mother,” I lied. “We paid our condolences and left.”

“So, you didn’t see David or...” he consulted his notes, “Cordelia?”

I shook my head. “Not until we were leaving, and we only saw Cordelia.”

He scribbled that down.

“Not David?”

“No.”

He made a humming sound that was neither positive or negative.

“Several witnesses claim that Eric asked them to leave.” Hale looked up at me. “He told them that the family wanted to be alone with the deceased. Do you know anything about that?”

“No.”

“So, when you left, were the guests still there?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“And you didn’t question as to why the guests were gone?”

Impatience tightened my lips. “All I was thinking about was getting Gabby home. We only came because it was her mother’s funeral. We had every intention of leaving the moment she said her goodbyes. Why everyone was gone made no difference to us. We were leaving regardless.”

He made that annoying mmhmm noise.

“Am I a suspect, Detective?”

The man actually chuckled. “Believe it or not, you’re the only person in this mess who might actually be clean.”

“Gabby didn’t do anything,” I bit in. “She’s innocent.”

He peered past me to where Gabby was waiting in the car. “You might be right. Unfortunately, I still have to cross all my T’s and dot my I’s. It’s all such a damn mess.” He shook his head slightly. “If what she told me is true, all that stuff that happened to her ... I can’t even begin to comprehend it.”

I felt myself relax a fraction.

“Are Eric and Cordelia really dead?”

He nodded. “Yup.” He sighed heavily and snapped his notepad shut. “From the layout, he cornered his father in his office and shot him while his back was turned. Then found his sister in the foyer and got her next. He called the police, told us what happened, before turning the gun on himself. There was a text message on his phone from who we’ve discovered may have been his mother accusing his father of being the cause of her suicide. We think Eric may have been wanting to avenge her death. Although, there isn’t a mention of Cordelia, but there are mentions of you and Gabrielle.”

“Jesus,” I mumbled, staring at the blank windows glowering down at us. “Who was the fourth body?”

“Oh!” His pad was flipped open and turned to the proper page. “An older man. The help, we’re assuming. He was found in the kitchen. Eric got him first. We haven’t identified him yet.”

“Jameson,” I ventured. “It had to be him. I don’t recall his first name.”

Hale scribbled that down. “And he was?”

“The butler.”

Hale rocked his head slowly from side to side, hand still darting across the pages. “Messy business,” he muttered under his breath. “We’ll hopefully get a better picture of things if David makes it.”

“He’s still alive?”

“Yup.” The notepad was tucked away inside his breast pocket. “Lost a lot of blood. They’re taking him in for surgery, but fingers crossed he makes it.”

Fuck that. I had my fingers crossed that he’d die, suffering horribly, but even that was too good for him.

“Someone will be in touch,” Hale finished.

Thoughts of David surviving followed me all the way back to the car and all through the drive home. It plagued me while I cradled Gabby that night in our bed. It gnawed at me every time I closed my eyes.

That bastard couldn’t be allowed to remain on earth. He had done nothing to deserve that life. He had no right to become a constant reminder to Gabby of the things he’d done to her, the things he could still possibly do. How could I let him continue to stain her life? She would never know peace so long as he was still breathing and I wouldn’t stand for that.

“Kieran?” Gabby’s groggy murmur pulled my attention down to the head she had nestled against my chest.

I tightened my arms around her. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

She sighed once and drifted back to sleep.

She would be safe. I swore to myself that I would see to it.

I LEFT HER BUNDLED in the sheets with a note on the end table to assure her everything was fine and that I would return soon. I had every intention of returning before she had a chance to read it, but I figured it was best to be safe rather than sorry.

At my car, I dug my keys out and climbed in, careful not to slam the door. I cast the dark windows of our home a final glance before pulling out.

The hospital, despite the late hour, glowed bright against the inky horizon. Cars entered and exited the parking area, loading and unloading patients. The speakers crackled with announcements, each one calling out a code.

I parked away from the building, away from the cameras I knew I couldn’t avoid if I were to pass over the threshold. Slipping into a hospital and killing someone was only made to look simple on television. In reality, I couldn’t simply waltz in there dressed in doctor’s coat, stuff a pillow over his head and wait for him to flatline. I couldn’t be seen anywhere near the place, whether his death was made to look intentional or accidental, I had to remain distant from it. The only question remaining was how to insure it was done properly. Eric had tried, but his failure meant a lifetime of that monster in Gabby’s life and I couldn’t have that. I wouldn’t. He and all his many shadows and toxic touches needed to be removed from our future ... permanently.