silently - as if to say, “This isn’t our battle.”
My eyes snap back to hers, “You never spoke of him, mom. Why? Why did you leave it up to me to dig around? To find out on my own. Did you think that I wouldn’t find out? Look at me! I look nothing like any of you!”
She shakes her head as she pushes away from the table, “I can’t do this.”
I jump up, causing my chair to tilt backwards and crash against the wooden floor of the dining room.
“Exactly! Do what you’ve always done, mom.”
She whips around to face me, her eyes full of warning, “I’ve done nothing but love you! I didn’t have to, Gabriel. I did it because I promised her that I would!”
Her hand slaps over her mouth as her eyes grow wide.
I frown as I take a step towards her. She has tears streaming down her cheeks as she looks up at me.
“Who?”
She wipes the tears with the back of her hand, “Kat.”
“I’m not following.”
A sob escapes her trembling lips as she uses the back of the chair for support, “He… he cut you from her stomach. I watched it happen.” She pauses as she sucks in a shaky breath, “I couldn’t save her. I tried, but… it wasn’t any use. She was dead by the time he was finished.”
“What?” I breathe out, stumbling backwards.
“I couldn’t ever talk to you about it. I tried. So many times. I would stand outside of your door for minutes , waiting, trying, but I couldn’t.” She mumbles.
I grab at my hair as I begin backing away. I can’t digest this information. I need to run.
“Gabriel.” My father says as he stands.
“I… I need to go.” I say, my voice dangerously calm as I make my way to the front door.
The door slams behind me, and before I know it, I’m in my car. It’s in these surreal moments where time floats by, never acknowledging your hurt or pain. Your body just moves on its own, and it seems like it’s completely out of your control.
Gripping the wheel, pictures of the past flash through my mind. I always knew that I didn’t belong, but now that realization hits me like a ton of bricks.
When I get home, I immediately make my way down the stairs and into the basement.
I open the door to the room where Melissa is waiting cuffed to the floor. She doesn’t stir when I enter and approach her. Kneeling down, I smooth my hand over her hair.
“Are you ready?” I whisper, and she nods without looking up at me. I sigh as I remove the cuffs and help her to her feet. I haven’t fucked her. I haven’t so much as looked her way with lust in my eyes. There is only one woman that can satisfy me, and that is Dani.
“Go write your letter. Just like we talked about.” I murmur as I stand in the doorway. She looks up at me with somber eyes, “What if I have nothing to say?”
I give her a tight-lipped smile, “Everyone has something to say. Now go.”
She nods slowly as she approaches the desk. Sitting down, she picks up the pen and paper. She only writes a few words before she places the pen down and looks over at me.
“On the table.” I grit out.
Once she is lying down, I insert the IV into her arm and the whispers in my mind slowly dissipate with each drip of the fluid.
I ensure that she cannot feel anything before I begin cutting.
“Tell me about a happy memory that you have, Melissa.” I say, my voice wavering as I continue working on her. My breathing begins calming as I watch the blood pump from her arteries and begins staining the white of the sheet below her.
“There aren’t any.” She says softly, her eyelids weighing down from the loss of blood.
I close my eyes as I try and calm myself. She can’t go, not until she recounts a happy time. She must.
“Even the most miserable people have happy memories.” I rasp, my grip on the scalpel is tightening as my anger threatens to boil over.
“I… don’t…” She whispers. When I open my eyes, I see that death has already claimed her glossy gaze.
“No.” I say as I reach over and pat her