CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
NICHOLAS
The murmur of voices wakes me, and the memory of being shot by my father floods back. I try to move, but I’m too weak — my shoulder hurts like a mother fucker.
“He’s waking.” A feminine voice enters my head, and I realize it’s that bitch, Elizabeth Sandford.
“About fucking time,” my father broods. “You, on your feet and get on with this wedding.”
That brings me to my senses. Wedding! I open my eyes and see my father standing next to Elizabeth’s father, Hubert Sandford, The Lord Bishop of Monchelsea, and is dressed in his full regalia. Hell no!
The Bishop starts to speak.
“In the presence of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, we have come together to witness the marriage of Nicholas Cavendish, Earl Lullington and The Honorable Elizabeth Sandford, to pray for God’s blessing on them, to share their joy, and celebrate their love.”
“Bullshit!” I interrupt.
“It’s not. It’s our wedding vows,” Elizabeth counters. “Daddy, tell him.”
“I…er,” the Bishop stutters.
“I agree, it’s bullshit,” my father adds. “Just get to the part where he has to sign the register — then, I can end his miserable life.
“I thought you would at least make this special for me,” Elizabeth whines.
“I’ll make things special for you later.” My father winks at her.
“I have to at least make some attempt at the vows,” Hubert Sandford intervenes with a green color flushing around his gills.
My father snorts.
“I don’t think you do. I’ve got a present for you outside, which suggests otherwise. One that I know you’ll be very interested in.”
The Bishop takes the register and signs his name on it. Elizabeth stomps forward and does the same, with a sullen expression on her face.
“You better do whatever I want tonight, my love.” She kisses my father on the cheek and hands him the pen.
“You seem to forget who's in charge here, Elizabeth. You do whatever I want, or despite my feelings for you, once that baby is born, you might find yourself the unhappy victim of an accident. I did it to his insane mother. I’ll do it to you as well — if you destroy my love for you with defiance.”
“I can’t believe you can say such hurtful things,” she whimpers on the verge of tears.
I laugh.
“What?” She stamps her foot.
“My father loves himself, nobody else. I’m his flesh and blood, and he’s going to kill me. You’re nothing but a willing vagina to him. I did try to tell you. Shame you’ll have to learn the hard way.”
“Shut up, Nicholas,” my father commands.
“Tell me that isn’t true.” Elizabeth throws herself at my father, and he glares at me over her shoulder.
“I’m just trying to make a better life for the two of us and our son. You knew I was a bastard when you fell in love with me. Don’t expect me to change. I’ll protect you with everything I have but defy me, in any way, and I’ll cut you down.”
Elizabeth sniffs back her tears. My head spins, and I’m not sure if it's the excruciating pain in my shoulder, or the sickening display in front of me. Part of me actually feels sorry for Elizabeth, only a tiny portion though. She’s brought this on herself by being a bitch.
“I only meant that maybe I could go on top tonight. I like the way it feels.”
My father pulls back and strokes her hair. “As long as I get to see those tits bounce, I don’t care what position you're in, on my dick.”
I make a gagging noise.
“Seriously, you’re going to buy that? And you…” I look at Elizabeth’s father. “You’re going to let him speak to your daughter like that in front of us. I mean, have you no shame?”
“If your father has outside, what I think he does, then no, I have no shame. I’m giving my daughter to your father in exchange for rewards beyond your comprehension. He can have carnal relations with her in whatever way he wants," the Bishop retorts.
I shake my head.
“Victoria was right. Everyone in this god damn society is an imbecile.” I’ve been sitting on the floor, against a wall, throughout this entire conversation. No doubt, this was where my father had his guards dump me. I push up to a standing position, but I’m dizzy due to blood loss from the gunshot wound. I rest against the table on which lies the register that requires my signature to seal the fake marriage.
“Sign the paper, Nicholas. Let’s just get on with the inevitable. I’m bored of the conversations. I’ve got plans for this society, and I’ve had to wait far too long to implement them.”
I stare him down with utter contempt.
“You’ve been in charge for almost thirty years. Why didn’t you take on the world during that time? Why do you need my thirty?”
My father turns to the Bishop.
“If I just chop his hand off and sign his name with it, does that count? Does he really have to sign the register himself?”
“For it to be valid, yes. I can’t in all conscience lie to God about marriage.” The Bishop makes the sign of a cross on his chest and bows his head.
“Yet, you can rape a little boy,” my father angrily replies.
“Some things can be overlooked.” The Bishop pushes the papers toward me.
“You're sick.” I snarl at him.
“Sign the papers, Nicholas.” My father steps up behind me, and the next thing I know, I’m falling to the floor in the throes of torment. My father has his finger stuck into my wound. He’s tearing the flesh farther away from the bone and rupturing more blood vessels to allow claret liquid to seep from the bullet hole. I should be stronger than him — under normal circumstances, I would be, but he’s rendered me into a small boy again, begging at his feet for mercy from punishment. I thought I deserved it, then, but now I know what a demented bully my father is.
“Go to hell!” I scream.
He digs deeper, and my head swims with dizziness.
“You think you’ve got something to live for?” my father asks, and my mind goes to Victoria. No, what has he done to her?
“Where is she?” I ask.
“Right now?” he laughs.
“Probably flat on her back with Laird McGuire’s dick in her cunt or ass.”
I shriek in anguish and beads of sweat start forming all over my body.
“Seems I found a use for the Scots in the society, after all. I bet he’s tearing her apart. I almost wish I could’ve stayed in London to hear the bitch scream. I bet it'll be loud. The very foundations of Oakfield Hall will be shaking with what he’s doing to her.”
“You bastard.”
My father removes his finger from my wound. I breathe rapidly, trying to get through the pain and anguish that I’m feeling. Victoria will be dying in a torturous way, and there’s nothing I can do to save her.
“I’ll ask you one last time. Sign the papers.” I roll onto my back, and my father places his foot on my chest.
I waiver. What have I got to live for? I’ve been an arrogant, rich brat all my life. The only good thing to ever happen to me was Victoria, and I’m the reason she’s going to die. I shut my eyes again, waiting for the inevitable.
“You might as well kill me because I’m not going to sign them. I’ll never make it easy for you to take over the society for another thirty years. I want to destroy it. Let’s hope my death does that.”
Silence. Nothing. I open my eyes again just as my father brings his boot down toward my face.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” A dreamy feminine voice floods my senses, this time. It sounds like an angel. Victoria, my Victoria. I must’ve gone to heaven. But, no, I’m still on the floor of a room in a castle in Scotland. My father lowers his foot, and we all turn to the door. Victoria stands there next to William — both have guns pointed at us. They’re dressed in jeans and sweatshirts, and both look ready for a fight. I’m not sure what I’m more shocked at: Victoria being alive, or the fact my brother has left Oakfield Hall, for the first time ever.
“I’m afraid Laird McGuire couldn’t uphold his end of whatever bargain you made with him. He came down with an unfortunate case of a hole in the head. Couldn’t happen to a nicer man, if you ask me,” Victoria continues cockily.
“Did my other son finally grow a set of balls?” My father steps forward, but William cocks the gun.
“I wouldn’t if I were you, Father.” The last word is spat with venom. “I don’t like the future you have planned for Nicholas and Victoria very much, and I’ve found that years of playing shooting games on consoles has left me with an excellent aim.”
“You would kill your own father?” The Duke raises a skeptical eyebrow, and I use his, momentarily, distracted gaze to shuffle to the side of the room. I need to regain my senses if I’m to help my brother and Victoria. Neither one is strong enough to survive the evil that could take place here.
“I’ve had enough of your games and self-righteous nature. You’ve no right to treat people the way you have. No bit of paper can decide my fate, only I can do that. The society ends here and now.” Victoria meets my father halfway across the room. William remains at the door with his gun aimed at the un-moving Bishop and Elizabeth.
“So confident, yet I see the shaking in your hands. Tell me, how far did the Laird get before William saved you?”
Victoria smirks when she responds, "Not far enough to break me.”
“Damn,” the Duke replies unhappily.
“Why can’t you just accept he doesn’t want you and fuck off to hell.” Elizabeth steps forward this time and wraps her arm round my father’s.
“Are you talking about the Duke or the Earl, Elizabeth, because I’m pretty sure I would pass on the former.”
“The Earl got me pregnant, you stupid bitch. He’s a cheater and a liar.”
“No.” Victoria maintains her poise and calm so gracefully that, despite the situation, I can feel myself getting hard in my pants. “The Duke got you pregnant when you opened your legs for him for a title. I’m guessing that, as Nicholas is most definitely the better looking of the two, you slipped into a little fantasy world at some point and imagined it was the Earl. I know he wouldn’t touch you with his dick even if it was on fire and needed a wet place to extinguish it.” Victoria raises an eyebrow at the end of her retort, and I let out a little chuckle.
“Are you going to let her speak to me like that? Kill her,” Elizabeth demands of my father.
“She’s the one with the gun. I’m afraid there isn’t much that I can do.” My father edges closer to Victoria. I’m wary of the action.
“But you’ve got your own gun in your suit jacket,” Elizabeth replies.
Everything happens in slow motion. My father growls and pulls his own weapon out. He fires at the same time as Victoria does. Thankfully, his shot skims past and into the wall behind. I turn to follow the path of Victoria’s bullet just as I watch it slice through Elizabeth’s chest. My father is behind her — he’d pulled her in front of him. Elizabeth gurgles blood from her mouth as the life drains from her. My father lets her slip to the floor. Victoria stands shocked at what she’s done, and it’s just the advantage my father needs. He grabs her and pulls the gun from her trembling hands and drops it to the floor. I’m on my feet as quickly as my blood loss allows me. William’s rushing forward at the same time, but we’re too late. My father has Victoria around the throat, and a gun pointed at her head. We both skid to a halt.
“My daughter.” The Bishop falls to the floor and begins last rites.
“I’ve failed you, Father,” Elizabeth speaks through struggled breaths
“No!” her father cries.
“I only wanted to make them see you’re a good man. It’s all you’ve ever taught me.”
“I know, my child, I know.”
Elizabeth tries to speak again, but only her final breath of life comes. She slumps lifelessly into her father’s arms.
“You promised me that she wouldn’t be hurt.” Hubert Sandford’s mask of piety slips. “I’ll make you suffer for this.”
Without even batting an eyelid, my father removes the gun from Victoria's head and shoots the grieving man between the eyes.
Victoria screams as he slumps forward in a heap on top of his daughter.
“Couldn’t have happened to a nicer man,” my father jests.
“How about you point the gun at yourself?” I counter and take a step closer.
“Uh, uh. No. You stay just where you are. I’m not a fool. Here’s what happens. If you want Victoria alive, then I suggest you both move out of my way. I’m going to take her with me as collateral for a while. It seems that I need to think of another plan.”
“Not going to happen. You’re going to put the gun down. We still have a weapon trained on you.”
“Yes, by the most stupid man in London.”
“I’m not stupid — I’m autistic,” William shouts.
“Same thing.” My father rolls his eyes.
“You’ve no idea about either of your sons, do you? Who we actually are? Autism hasn’t made me stupid. It’s given me the ability to focus. I can do things with a computer nobody else can. If you’d actually bothered to be a father to me, then you could’ve used my skills to further your stealing of artwork. But no, I wasn’t normal, so you disregarded me. And as for Nicholas, you’ve no idea what sort of man he is. You think he’s the arrogant bastard you’ve made him, and in some ways he is, but he’s a born leader with it. He’ll take the society into the future and make it great. You’ll just run it into the ground and have everyone, who doesn’t agree with you, arrested or shot.” William’s foot taps the entire time he speaks. I can tell he’s stressed beyond words, but he’s maintaining his composure, thanks to his tics.
“I don’t believe any of that for a moment. You’re both weak and feeble, just like your mother. Her genes have spoiled you both.”
“No.” It’s my turn to step up to the fight. “Her genes have made us the good men we are, despite the malevolence from you that runs through our veins. Enough games — you know that you won’t get out of here with Victoria. Let her go.”
Victoria’s watching me get closer and closer. Her eyes flick to the wound in my shoulder and anguish fills them.
“I’m walking out of here,” my father reiterates.
“And we’ll let you — just not with Victoria.”
“What do you see in her anyway? Elizabeth was the prettier of the two. She’s got no discernible features as far as I can tell. How can you let her ruin what we could do for this society? Isn’t there a part of you that wants more? We could rule the country together, you and me.”
“Victoria has everything. She’s beautiful, compassionate, and fiery. She’s made me see that there’s more to power than being a dictator. Plus, if you’d actually taken time to know her as a woman, not an object, you would’ve seen she probably knows as much about the art world as we do. Maybe even more.” With every word I speak, I’m edging closer to where my father holds Victoria around the neck. He pulls the gun away and points it at me.
“Stay back.”
It’s the chance I need. With the gun pointed away from Victoria, I’m close enough to leap at him. Despite the pain from my wound, I take him by surprise and punch him in the face. Reeling, he lets Victoria go, and she scrambles away. I need to disarm my father before he has a chance to fire off the gun again. I ignore the fiery spasms shooting through my body and wrestle him to the ground. I release his hold on the weapon, and I push it away. Now, we’re even.
“Give up Father. I’ll give you your life and a pension to live quietly somewhere, but this is over now.”
“Never. You weren’t born to lead.” He punches me in the shoulder, and I cry out, swearing I see stars.
Then, we’re on the floor and rolling over. I’m on my back when my father brings another blow down on my shoulder. If I have much more of this, I know I’ll pass out. That’s the last thing I want.
“William, do something.” I hear Victoria say.
“I…I…I…,” he stutters back.
I bring my good arm around and catch my father on the side of the jaw. He wavers a little but doesn’t fall.
“Why couldn’t you have just loved us?” I shout.
“Because he doesn’t have a heart.” I hear William shout — his voice filled with anguish.
A gunshot goes off, and my father’s body goes lifeless on top of me. William appears and pulls my father off me. Then disappears to the side of the room to tap out a rhythm. I notice the back of my father’s skull is missing, and my head swims with nausea. I don’t have a chance to retch, though, as Victoria slams her body onto the floor next to me and brings her lips to mine.
“I thought I’d lost you.”
“I love you. Everything he said was lies. I didn’t want to marry her. I want you.”
“I know. I know.” She kisses me again through her tears, which fall freely. I reach up and touch one.
“No more tears.” She’s cradling me in her arms, and I can feel the dark clouds looming again. I look toward William, and she follows my gaze. “Look after him for me.”
“What?” she stammers. “No, Nicholas.”
I don’t hear anything else for the world goes black.