After my long interview, I say goodbye to Sasha, who hands me a bag full of leaflets with information pertaining to support groups, psychiatrists, and the like. After a warm hug, she releases me, and the officer guides me through the halls and up the elevator towards the ward where my father is currently staying. I don’t know why, but I feel … numb. It is as if the last few hours didn’t just happen. Reid is gone, and I thought I would feel overwhelmed by grief like anyone else who has just lost a loved one would. But, right now, all I feel is grateful—grateful that it was Reid who died and not Richard.
What does that say about me?
I am actually angry with Richard for making me feel this way. Even now, when I should be running a mile in the opposite direction, his call is so loud that I can’t help but hurry to answer it. After everything he put me through over the years, I want to mould my body around his and hear the words “I love you” fall from his lips.
“He’s in this room,” the officer says, pointing towards a white door. “Are you going to be okay? I can stay for a little while if you need me.”
The officer curves his lip into a soft smile. It’s rather endearing. He’s not attractive in any way, but a small smile can often go a long way.
“No, it’s okay. I can take it from here. I’m sure my father will be anxious to see me.”
“I’m sure he is.” Placing his hand in his pocket, he moves away from the door. “If you need me or if you can think of anything else you’d like to add,” he starts to write something down on his notepad, “you can call me anytime—day or night—on this number.” He rips the page and hands it to me. I look down briefly and notice his first name is Richard. I have to smirk at that. “We’ll be in touch at some point soon, but I’m only a phone call away if you need me before then.”
I look up to him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
There goes that smile again.
I watch as he walks away before composing myself and opening the door. I don’t even bother knocking.
As I step through, Richard’s looking out the window, but quickly turns his head in my direction once he hears the door. He’s lying snugly in bed with his shoulder bandaged and his arm in a sling.
“I suggest you shut that door,” he warns before I even have a chance to walk through.
I do as he asks, sauntering over to his bedside. Richard watches my every step intently. “How are you feeling?” I ask, knowing he doesn’t give a shit about that at the moment.
“Care to tell me who that fucker was who attacked you? He looked familiar.”
Cautiously, I approach the bed, but I keep my distance at the foot of it. I don’t know how angry he still is with me, so it’s probably best I keep out of grabbing distance.
Once I sit down, I look into his expectant eyes. They’re dark … just like his soul. I often wondered what I would find if I could ever reach into those eyes of his. Even when I was just thirteen years old—when the abuse began—I questioned what sort of man could do what he did to his own daughter. I thought I understood when I learnt his secret. He still doesn’t know that I know.
“He was someone I worked with.”
“Did you fuck him?” he asks, interrupting me straight away. I know his true agenda. He just wants to find out how many men I’ve fucked since him. I bet it angers him deeply that I’ve had others. I know that if I hadn’t had the abortion and run away from the hospital that day, I would still be his and his alone now.
There’s just no escaping him.
“No,” I answer on a sigh. “We never had sex. It wasn’t that type of relationship.”
“Then, tell me, what the fuck type of relationship was it?”
“He was a PI, and I helped him from time to time. We were planning on saving up enough to leave the country together and run a bar.”
“Never would have happened.”
I gaze into those dark orbs of his, and I know now that every word he speaks is the truth. As long as Richard exists, he’s never going to let me go.
“I know that.”
“Then, why did you plan it—knowing full well that I was going to stop it in the end?”
I momentarily look away. “I thought I could …” I trail off.
“Could what? Escape me? Is that it?” He starts laughing. “How long have you known me? Even when I was miles away, I knew where you were. I always—and I do mean always—knew where you were.”
I snap my head back to him. “Then, why did you leave?”
“Why does that matter now?”
“Because you were there, and then you weren’t. What would have happened that night on your birthday? What if, after you’d fucked me, I had been the same timid girl I’d always been? Would you have thrown me out like you did?”
I watch as he grips the sheets tightly underneath his fist. “You know full well I wouldn’t have.”
“Exactly. I think you and I both know that I shocked you that night. In fact, I shocked you so much that you had to escape to France for a year to cope with it. Did knowing that your own daughter finally wanted to be fucked by you just as badly as you wanted to fuck her scare you that much?”
“Shut the fuck up,” he seethes.
“That’s it, isn’t it? You couldn’t stand the fact that you had turned me into someone who is just as sick and perverse as you are.”
“Shut the fuck up,” he repeats again. I know I’m pushing it, but I can’t help myself when it comes to him.
“Why did you change your mind about me?” I ask once I hear his breathing start to calm a little.
“What do you mean?”
“Now, I’m a willing participant. Doesn’t that turn you off? I thought the very idea of me begging you to stop was what got you going.”
“Scarlet,” he warns under his breath. He only needs to utter that one word, and I know he means business. “We’re not going to talk about that now because we still have some unfinished business. Business that involves you fucking your own sister’s husband!”
His rage is so fierce that he sits bolt upright in bed, nearly getting out. I know he’s desperate to hit me, but we both know he can’t do it here.
What a predicament he’s in…
“You abused me for years, and they never believed me. Every member of my family deserves every single thing they get.”
“And what were you planning on doing?”
I smirk. “Showing them of course. I’ve been biding my time.”
He leans forward, gritting his teeth. “No more. This shit stops here, Scarlet, or, so help me, I’ll fucking kill you myself. You got it? I’ll deal with that shitbag, Porter, but for now, you’re moving into my house and towing the fucking line. No more bullshit. And especially no more men. You got that?”
“Why no more men?” I can’t help the smile that rises on my lips. I love pushing his buttons.
Richard huffs before finally slinking down into his bed. “The only man you will ever fucking need is me.” He eyes me up and down before saying, “I mean it, Scarlet. This shit stops. Right here. Right now. No more.” He suddenly shakes his head like he’s thought of something. “I should have seen this coming. I was weak, and I let you play havoc with me and our family. From now on, you behave like a nun. No more whoring yourself.”
My lip curves up. “What? Not even with you?”
“Don’t play with me, Scarlet. You’re already walking a very thin line. I’ll never forgive you for what you did to Amber.”
He turns his head away in disgust, and right there, all thoughts of playing with him fly out the window.
Rage. That’s all that’s consuming me right now. Pure, fire-fuelling rage.
After everything, he still sides with Amber.
It’s always been Amber.
I’m about to tell him so when—all of a sudden—the woman herself walks in. Following closely behind her is Porter and my mother.
“Oh, baby,” my mother says, rushing towards me and giving me a hug. “Are you okay?” I nod in her shoulder before pulling away. She scans her eyes over my clothing.
“Donated by the hospital since my clothes were taken as evidence.”
My mother—ever the dramatic—throws her hand over her mouth as tears pool her eyes. “Thank God your father was there to save you.” I almost roll my eyes.
It’s not long before the attention she briefly focused on me is redirected to Richard. She’s soon fussing over him like they’re still married. A part of me wonders whether she still loves him. I bet she does—or what passes for love with my mum.
“I’m sorry to hear about what happened,” Amber says, coming in for a hug. I stiffen, but tell my body to relax. I may hate her guts, but she’s supposed to be my sister, and at least she’s being kind to me right now.
She pulls away, smiling. “I guess you won’t be going to Spain now.”
And right here is an all too poignant reminder as to why I have always thought that Amber is such a bitch.
She has the nerve to casually shrug her shoulders like nothing major has just happened. It’s apparently no big deal that her sister was just been attacked and raped. When she turns and rushes for her daddy, throwing her arms around him, I realise then that he has always been her number one priority. I mean very little by comparison. But that isn’t what cuts me to the quick. It’s the fact that he feels the exact same way about her. This is their family, and I’ve never really been a part of it.
As I watch Amber bury her head in Richard’s shoulder and watch him smile adoringly at her as he closes his eyes, the rage comes back tenfold.
She will always be his number one.
“I’m going to go home and get some rest.” I need to get out of here before I say something stupid.
My mother snaps her head to me. “Are you sure?” I nod my head before turning my attention to Porter. He smiles at me, and I can’t help but smile back.
“Remember to gather some clothes and take them back to my house. You know the code, so you can let yourself in.”
I gaze at Richard, who’s warning me with his eyes. I know he’s pissed because of Porter, and I know he still wants control. This way, he gets to enforce it with my family as witnesses.
“Oh, that’s a good idea,” my mother says, looking expectantly at me. “You need your family now, and living with your father is a great opportunity to get to know him again. Get closer to him.”
If only she knew!
“Scarlet can move in for however long she wants. In fact, I have so much room that she could live there permanently if she wanted to.”
I already know that there are no “ifs” in his scenario. I won’t have a say in the matter.
“Oh, Richard, you always were such a softy when it came to your daughters. I know Scarlet will appreciate it for now, but pretty soon she’ll want to meet … someone,” she says with an emphasis on “someone” rather than a young man or woman. “And she’ll want to live with them instead. Maybe even start a family.”
I raise my eyebrow at Richard, wondering if he’ll comment. He knows he can’t. What can he say? I won’t let her? She’s never going to leave my house ever again because she’s mine?
I would really like to know his long-term goal for our little venture. I know he has plans for me. Plans which involve making me his and knocking me up. Having us live together like one big, happy family. How on earth will he eventually explain himself to my mother and Amber?
“Well, the offer’s there for as long as Scarlet wants it.” I almost laugh, but then he cuts me a warning glare again before kissing Amber’s forehead and squeezing her to him.
I’ve had about enough of this shit.
“I’m going,” I say before I really lose it. “I’ll see you all tomorrow.” I have no intention of seeing any of them tomorrow.
As I say my goodbyes and walk out, I wonder what it is I am going to do. I know I can’t go back to my flat. I certainly can’t live there after what’s happened. What’s more, that will now be the first place Richard will come looking for me.
Grabbing a taxi, I ask him to take me home and wait for me once we get there. The place is sealed off, and the police are still inside. Once inside, I notice the officer I now know as Richard standing there, looking at all the blood still on the floor. As if sensing me, he looks up and smiles as he strolls towards me.
“Unfortunately, you can’t stay here right now. Is there somewhere else you can go?”
I nod. “Yes. I’m simply here so I can gather some clothes and my bag. I have a taxi waiting.” I point outside where the officer looks.
“Okay,” he says, nodding. “Go get what you need.” I start to walk up the stairs when he says, “Where will you be staying? So we know where to contact you.”
Shit. I should have realised this would happen. “At my dad’s tonight. Tomorrow, I’m not so sure.”
“Let me know,” he replies, walking away.
I know why he wants to know where I am at all times. It’s just in case this killing in self-defence turns into a murder. Not that I have anything to worry about as far as that’s concerned.
Grabbing a bag, I get to work throwing in what I can to last me for a few days along with some makeup. I quickly change, and when I’m ready, I grab my things and head downstairs. I gain the officer’s attention, pointing to my phone and bag in the living room near to the coffee table. “I’ll need those,” I say.
“Of course,” he answers, grabbing my things and handing them to me. “Are you going to be okay tonight?”
I don’t know why he cares so much. I guess it’s his job to care—or at least to act like he does. I nod anyway just so I can get the hell out of here. Suddenly, my flat feels claustrophobic.
“Thank you,” I say again as I walk out. Luckily, the taxi driver opens his door and gets out. He takes my bags from me, placing them in the boot. I thank him too, and before long, he’s asking me where to go next. Remembering I have the key to Reid’s office, I give him that address, and we’re soon on our way. After all, there’s money there—half of which I earned fair and square. All I want is my half. I’ll leave some, since I’m certain the police will be onto it next once they’ve dealt with the crime scene.
Now that I’m here, I fetch the key out of my bag and let myself in. All is quiet as I take the stairs one by one. I reach his office door, which is shut. I open it little by little just in case someone’s here, but when I push through, all I’m met with are white walls, a big mahogany desk, and an opposing black leather chair in front of me.
I waltz through and quickly make my way over to the painting. I pull it open and take a deep breath as I enter my birthday. To my delight, it clicks open, and I see the money is still sitting there. I hurriedly take my half. I’m tempted to take the lot, but half is more than I need right now to live on whilst I think about what to do next.
It’s only when I’m about to shut the door that I notice the envelope to the side. I should walk away, but it’s calling to me to open it. Whatever it is, Reid wanted it kept safely away in there for a reason.
With my curiosity getting the better of me, I pull the envelope out and sit down on Reid’s chair. I hastily open the envelope and pull out its contents. Straight away, a couple of photos fall to the floor. One is of me a few years younger … roundabout the time Reid and I met. It’s a photo of me out on the street. He must have taken this without me looking.
The other photo makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. It’s of my father. He’s standing by his Ferrari, and by the looks of things, he’s about to get into it.
Pushing them to one side, I spy an older-looking document. When I open it, I see it’s a birth certificate. It’s Reid’s. For some reason, he told me he was a couple of years older than he really was. Looking at his birthday, I realise he was only a couple of months older than I am. His mum’s name is Bridget Marks, and his dad’s name is…
My blood runs cold when I see his name. My thoughts scramble, and my head grows dizzy. But then, through the cloud, everything becomes clear. Now, it all makes sense. Why I was so drawn to Reid from the moment I met him. Why I let him dominate me like he did. It wasn’t just because he simply had a knack for it. His force was strong because—all along—my subconscious somehow knew.
Like father, like son.
In the end, my father really had gotten the son he had always wanted. He just didn’t know it.
All of a sudden, I start laughing, and pretty soon, I can’t stop. That’s two things I know now that my father doesn’t.
I smile as I gather everything and put it back. I’m still smiling as I grab the bag full of money. But all that changes when I spot a photograph on Reid’s desk. It’s a photo of us together. Reid’s arm is around me as he takes a selfie of us. We’re smiling brightly as our gazes are fixed towards the camera. I remember that day. It was the day when Reid and I decided to enjoy some time off from work. We wanted to live a little and do the touristy thing. It was a beautiful, hot day, so after going to Madame Tussauds and the London Dungeons, we decided to take a boat trip on the River Thames. That’s when Reid took that photo. He did it right before he bought me an ice cream and proceeded to tell me how much he looked forward to whipping me and licking my cunt later.
I wipe my eye, and it’s only then I realise that I’m crying. It’s like everything that’s happened is suddenly dawning on me.
Richard, furious with me over Porter, was going to hurt me in a way more painful than any other man ever could.
Reid, having no idea of the threat hanging over my head, attacked Richard.
Reid, unaware of the sick irony of it, raped me.
Richard attacked Reid, and now he’s dead.
Then, it strikes me. All of these events literally revolved around me, and I had the knife. I made the choice. Would I have done it differently given the chance?
I close up and go down to the waiting taxi. As I get in, I notice that the driver is staring at me with a worried expression.
“Where to now, love?” he asks in a soothing voice.
I roll off Richard’s address, wiping my damp eyes as I do. I’ll stay there tonight, since I know he won’t be there. Tomorrow, bright and early, I’m going to set off for somewhere else. For where, I don’t yet know.
Looking down at my phone as the taxi’s driving, I notice several missed calls from Stuart and a couple of text messages. I’m normally good at answering, so he’s obviously concerned.
Stuart.
Such a sweet boy with a heart of gold. I’ve easily let myself get lost in him. But with Richard still in my life, I know that will never happen. I text back.
Sorry I haven’t answered until now. Things have been hectic, and I lost my phone for a while. Will be in touch. xx
I know I’m being a bitch. I should end it now before I break his heart. At some point, I will have no other choice but to end whatever it is we have.
I don’t even look when my phone pings back. Instead, I wait. Once we get to Richard’s place, I pay the taxi and let myself in. Once I dump my bags, I take the stairs to his room and practically throw myself onto his bed. I’m exhausted after the night I’ve had.
My stomach grumbles, reminding me that I haven’t eaten, but I’m way too tired to fix anything to eat. Besides, I will need to get up bright and early tomorrow morning in order to hatch a plan.
A plan that involves getting myself as far away from my father as possible.