by Logan Chance
“No it's not.” I shake my head. “It's a prescription for toxicity.”
He steps towards me, but I hold a hand out. “I should've given up hope after Ian told me you and him ran into each other.”
His ‘what the hell are you talking about?’ look doesn't stop my tirade.
“It’s ok. I know you were busy and had a life. I just kind of thought…” I let the bitter words trail off.
“Rhi,” he clutches the back of his neck with his hand and rubs, “what did you think?”
“We were friends, best friends, and you vanished. Ok, I get you thought I was your sister…” This is definitely what it feels like to lose your mind, because I'm losing mine right here and now. Five minutes ago, I thought he was my brother and to my horror the feelings didn't shut down, so I'll give him that. But this is all too much. “I just thought you would have kept the charm,” I finish.
“Charm?”
I touch the dove on my neck, yank it off and throw it at him. “Your other half.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Ian told me he ran into you at an airport.”
His eyes narrow on me.
“He said you handed him your charm and told him to give it to me.”
“Rhi, I never saw that motherfucker.” He pulls open his desk drawer and slams his hand down on the desk. “And I never gave him this charm.”
“You kept it?” There's a tunnel effect happening to me. A distorted long tunnel, shifting and changing, and there's a light at the end, but I’ll never reach it.
“Of course I did,” he barks out.
The tears in my eyes spill over. “Are you going to tell me what all this is about?”
“No,” he says.
“How are you so sure this is all lies?” I hope he’s positive. But, why would my dad lie about something like this? He always hated Xavier.
“Because I found my real father, and of course ran some tests.” He runs a hand through his hair. “But, didn’t really need to. I’m a spitting image of him.”
I brush a loose strand of hair from my face. “I want to go back. Now.” Yes, I've gone crazy, because I'd rather take my chances with Ian and my father on my own terms.
“Rhiannon, come on. You want to go back to the monster?”
I don’t say anything.
“Your wedding is in a few days.”
“I know.”
He bites the corner of his bottom lip and then stalks over to me. Clasping my face in his hands, he crashes his lips to mine, taking the last piece of my sanity. I'm dizzy from his kiss as his tongue traces mine. And then he releases me.
“Krista will be here shortly. She'll pack your things, and Dean will take you back.”
When he's gone, I retrieve my necklace, drop to my knees and cry.
30
Xavier
Ah, the day of reckoning has arrived.
31
Rhiannon
Seventy-two steps until my life ends. Mendelssohn’s Wedding March wafts from the strings of the tuxedoed orchestra serenading my death. The white-satin bridal gown and veil cling to me like a shroud.
One.
Two.
Three. I count to calm my galloping heart.
Cold eyes at the end of the aisle lock with mine, daring me to run. The golden wings of the turtledove necklace hidden within the bouquet of white roses fisted in my hand, cut into my palm.
Four.
Five.
The robed priest smiles under the watchful eyes of the marble saints. Murmurs of “So beautiful,” and “God bless” turn to wailing shrieks of horror as a shot rings out, dancing across the crescendo of the wedding march.
God isn't here today. And there will be no marriage, only death at this red wedding.
‘Cause apparently that’s just my luck. My father’s men rush the church and Ian follows behind. I glance back to Xavier, my almost husband, standing at the dias beside the priest, with a gleam in his eye and a wicked smile curving his lips.
“Kill him,” my father orders, his voice echoing off the stained-glass windows.
Fear claws its way up my spine. Because, even though I had no idea this wedding wasn't to Ian until I got here, that it was to Xavier, even though I felt nothing amid the swarm of eagles in my stomach, even though I didn't want this wedding either, I would throw myself in front of the bullet to protect him.
Xavier doesn't flinch at my father’s words. “Right on cue,” he takes a step down from his ledge he was gracefully standing on, “as expected.”
My father steps closer, passing through the stand off of men with guns drawn. Shell-shocked, I stand frozen midway up the aisle, not sure which way to move, The room has all but cleared out, leaving only Xavier, his men, and my father with his. Oh, and me. A sitting duck caught in the crossfires, hoping no one shoots.
“You were a hard bastard to flush out. I paraded your daughter everywhere, and it took quite a while to get you to show up. A few more minutes and we would have been hitched,” Xavier says ever so cool. So icy. Frigid. “Good thing she's not my sister. Not sure the priest would've gone for that.” He moves closer. “Marshall says hello.”
My dad halts his steps as Xavier continues. “Must've really killed you that your wife loved your best friend—my father.”
I gasp. My heart pounds against the beading of the bodice of this suffocating dress. But, it’s ok, I don’t dare breathe. The room is silent, only the sound of harsh breathing as Xavier’s light chuckle echoes through the space. “That is serious hatred: frame him for a crime he didn't commit, bring his wife and young son under your care.” His voice slices through the air with hatred. “Produce fake documents to convince him I'm your son. All while torturing your wife with the woman he really loved under her roof.”
My father's lips press into a thin line. “You're insane.”
Xavier shrugs, pulling a gun from the back of his tuxedo. “I think we’re all a little insane. You’re the sickest fuck of all. You killed my mother because she found out the truth: you fucked up our lives to punish your wife for loving another man, and you used us to punish him for something he couldn't control.”
My head spins at the twisted mind of my father.
“Shoot him,” my father bellows.
No one moves.
“You think these men are here to protect you?” Xavier tsks. “Wrong again. They are loyal to me now.”
“What are you talking about?” My father’s eyes shoot to the men who now lower their guns. “What is all this? Rhiannon, come with me.” He holds out his hand, demanding with his eyes for me to take it.
“No, that won’t be happening. She listens to me now,” Xavier says.
And when I turn back to face him, the barrel of his gun is aimed straight at me.
Panic rushes over me, a state of fear settling deep into my bones. “Xavier,” I whisper.
He takes one tentative step forward, aiming his black weapon at me.
“It’s time for atonement.”
My confused eyes lock with Xavier’s icy stare. My heart doesn’t dare beat for fear of setting anything off.
My father drops his hand, backing away from me slightly. “What do you want?”
“To set Rhiannon free. You can’t hurt her now. No one can; not even me.”
And he pulls the trigger.
And the bullet hits me dead center.
And there’s blood, so much blood flowing down the white of my dress.
And then it all fades to black.
32
Xavier
"As burns this saint, so will burn my soul. I enter alive and I will have to get out dead."
God looks away as Rhiannon thumbs through the red blood of her white dress. My eyes remain on her father’s face, watching the look of pure horror cross over his.
And then Rhiannon falls in a crimson and white heap, her bouquet of white roses falling from her grasp.
I step over Rhiannon’s beautiful, bleeding, body, an
d lean over Al DeLaurio who’s on his knees trying to bring his daughter back to life.
“You’ll pay for this,” he threatens.
“I already have.” I pass my gun off to Justin by my side.
“Fuck you.”
Footsteps sound in the somber church. Footsteps of someone that has been well paid by me to drive the final nail in the coffin. He moves closer, and DeLaurio sneers. “Ah, you remember Francis Jensen, right?” Al doesn’t answer. “Of course, you do. The coroner who pronounced my mother dead? Thought it only fitting he should return the favor.”
Jensen leans over Rhiannon’s body, clinically inspecting her. “She's gone,” he says, solemnly.
I lean down to whisper in DeLaurio’s ear.
“This is your punishment. Remember this lesson.”
33
Rhiannon
They say when you die, you hear angels sing. You see a bright light and walk happily into the unknown.
They lie.
I see and hear nothing. I feel nothing. The man I love killed me. Murdered me. Denying me a chance to live the life I wanted. I’ll never forgive him. But there is no forgiveness in death.
My mind’s hazy from the nothingness before me. This is death. The afterlife. The fifth phase of the moon, and the journey is just beginning. My exaltation—my Heaven or Hell. Let my spiritual evolution begin.
You know what?
It all kind of sucks.
There’s an unfamiliar smell, and my body jostles slightly as if I’m being carried away. And I’m cold.
Is this hell?
Has Xavier cast me into the depths of hell by setting me free in his demented, wicked way?
The smell becomes more pungent, and I blink back the tears forming.
“Take it slow,” a familiar voice says.
“Where am I?” I don’t recognize my scratchy voice.
“Halfway across the country now. You were out for a while.”
I open my eyes, and the blackness turns to soft colors of tan and grey. Clouds drift by. Heaven is very bland. “Where is the pearly gate?”
I blink, and Dean comes into focus with a small smile. “This isn't heaven. It’s Xavier’s private jet. Do you want some water?”
I nod, confusion streaming through me as Dean stands and heads to the back of the cabin. “What happened?” I whisper mainly to myself.
“He was right about the fainting when you see blood.” He laughs, walking back toward me and holding out a small glass. “It wasn’t even real blood, and you were out.” He snaps his fingers together.
I sip the cool water, letting it trickle down my dry throat. “Xavier shot me,” I whisper again.
The image of the gun in his hand, him pulling the trigger and ending my life, brings back tears.
I glance down, wiping at my blood-stained dress. “I’m not dead?”
“Hardly. That was some show, huh?”
“Show?” Is this my purgatory? To be stuck with Dean while he speaks in riddles?
“Yeah, I kept telling him it wouldn’t work.” He runs a hand through his hair, a smile illuminating his face. “But, Xavier was confident you’d faint when you saw the blood.”
“I don’t understand.”
He turns and rifles through a cabinet beneath a flat screen tv. “He’s been planning this all for so long, and what a chance he took with you.”
“How so?”
“The gun was a prop gun, but it sure did the trick. Your dad bought it—hook, line, and sinker.”
I sit up. “My dad thinks I’m dead?”
“Dead as a doornail, kid.”
I take another sip of water. “Why did he do this to me?”
Dean glances at me. “Were you happy? Did you really want to marry Ian?”
“Well…”
He cuts me off, “Because I hear they perform weddings in prison. You can visit him, and conjugal visits might work out.”
The thought of visiting Ian in prison makes me smile for a second, but I would never. “Well...no, but...”
“Your father is a really bad guy. The Feds have been after him for years. So, Xavier cut them a deal in exchange for your freedom from all of that.”
“Freedom how?”
“You’ll see.” He pulls clothes from the cabinet and tosses them on the chair beside me. “You can change out of that dress.”
He turns on the tv, and I get bits and pieces of what happened on the news. My father, in handcuffs, is ushered away from the church by the man Xavier met at the opera. A federal agent. My mind spins from the intricate planning used to take my father down.
“Alfred DeLaurio, alleged mob boss, taken into custody by federal agents.” scrolls across the bottom.
I grab the remote and shut it off. My brain is on information overload, but there's one important piece I still need. “What about Xavier?” I ask, grabbing the change of clothes.
“What about him?”
“Will he be coming to see me?” I ask afraid of the answer.
Dean blows out a breath. “Rhiannon, he has to lay low until the trial. Maybe even out of the country.”
“Oh.”
“Do you understand what’s going on?” He sits down beside me. “You’re dead. You will have a new name, new identity, everything from your old life is over.”
I think back on everything I’ve left behind. My mother. My friends. And then I think about whether the price for my freedom is really what I want?
As if Dean can read my mind, he says, “Look, if you don’t want this, we can always take you back.”
What I really want isn’t sitting here on the plane with me.
“Xavier felt this was the only way. He didn’t want your father to use you from jail, or worse. Who knows if your father will even face prison time.”
“Why didn’t Xavier ask me? Or at least tell me?”
“He couldn’t risk it. He needed it to look real.”
Well, he deserves an Academy Award for the acting job he did in the church. Was it all an act? Everything leading up to it? I know he cares. I know there’s even love there. But not the kind like me. I’m in love with him.
Now, he’ll be busy with being a witness in my father’s trial, and after, who knows. And I’ll do…
“Dean?” I ask. “What will I do?”
“Same thing you always have. You can start your card business, and don’t worry, Xavier has you all set up in a cottage by the ocean in North Carolina.”
“I guess I can start from scratch.” I smile a little. The possibilities are endless, even though finding another backer to fund my cards might pose a challenge. I head back to the rear of the plane, clothes in hand.
“Rhiannon, or should I say Brianna?” He smiles, when I look back at him. “That’s your new name, Brianna Stoneworthy.”
“Oh, ha ha on the name. Are you serious?”
He holds up his hands, placating me. “Hey, I didn’t pick it.” Then he turns serious. “You do know Xavier was the one who backed your business, right?”
“Inscription Prescription Rx,” I whisper.
Tears threaten to spill once more, and I escape to the privacy of the bathroom. Breathe.
34
Rhiannon (Brianna)
“Bri, these cards are great today,” Sadie says, grabbing the last of the new cards I had printed yesterday and placing them on the shelf of her quaint gift shop: Cardston’s Cards.
“Thanks, hopefully these sell as well as the last batch.” People love my cards, and I couldn't be happier. After the shock wore off, giddiness set in. I'm free. I make my own money, and I can spend it any way I want. I can drive wherever the urge takes me. Anything I want. The world is my oyster and North Carolina has plenty.
I watch her position the display and run a hand through my now shorter hair. To go with the new me, I tried dying it a few weeks after I arrived, but in the end decided the natural auburn color suited me better.
Six months ago I was murdered.
Six months ag
o Xavier Stone ended my life to have me begin a new one.
And now I’m reborn, as Brianna Stoneworthy, a greeting card designer who lives on a sandy beach town in North Carolina. When Dean left me here, he told me to lay low until after the trial, a request I remain loyal to. I won’t put anyone in jeopardy.
After saying goodbye to Sadie, I head toward the beach. The light breeze promises that Spring will soon be here.
I wrap my sweater tighter around me, losing my fingers in the long sleeves. It's a different beautiful here than Maine, and I love it just as much. Wild horses and barbecue. Sometimes we have everything mapped out, but it's only a pitstop to the real destination.
The rolling ocean crashes against the shore, and I stand at the edge, watching the push and pull. Just like my heart with Xavier. God, I miss him.
I’ve dealt with missing Xavier in my life once before. But now, knowing the man he’s become, and everything he did for me, the pain is harder to control. Just remembering his soft touch is enough to bring me to my knees. LA feels a lifetime away, but I would travel there in a heartbeat if I knew we could be together. But we can't. Not with my father’s upcoming trial flashing on the national news. I cringe every time it comes on.
Along with all of his illegal dealings, he’s also being charged with Hannah’s murder.
It’s sad how one person’s actions can affect so many around them.
It took me a while to fully comprehend my father’s selfishness; not caring he was destroying those around him. Even Ian. He was so caught up in the fame and money. The greed of office consumed him.
Xavier is nothing like them.
When the tide begins to rise, I head home to the cozy, one-story, bungalow Xavier set me up in. It’s perfect. He even remembered the wrap-around porch.
When I round the corner of the street leading to my house, I spot my mom’s car in the drive. Yes, he even saved my mom. And she helped save me. Turns out she was his inside informant. After a stint in rehab, she joined me here in her own house across town.