by Mark Ayre
She might already be too late.
Thirty-Three
Abbie returned to her car and drove to Jess and Eddie's. When no one answered her knock on the door, she picked the lock and slipped inside.
From the living room, she moved to the kitchen. Both were empty. Resisting the urge to call out to Jess or Ed, Abbie moved to the stairs and climbed, light-footed, attempting to reduce the groans and moans of old wood compressing beneath the worn carpet.
At the top of the stairs, Abbie found an empty bathroom. Next along was the spare room, soon to become baby's bedroom. Since it had damaged Abbie's back the night before, Ed had transformed the spare bed back into a sofa which looked no more comfortable. On it sat Jess, a hand on her stomach. She was taking quick, shallow breaths. Her face was red, her brow glistening with sweat. There were tears on her cheeks. By her side sat Eddie. He had an arm around her shoulder, fear in his eyes. The couple weren't looking at each other. They were looking at the gun.
When Abbie entered, everyone jumped. Jess and Eddie looked to Abbie then back at the gun. The potential shooter didn't look around. His eyes were fixed on Eddie.
"I came looking for you," said Abbie. "Wanted you to know it was okay you didn't get the gun to me in time. It's not okay to use it for your own purposes, though. That I can't allow."
No one said anything. It was like looking upon a tableau. Abbie feared what the scene could become within a split-second and with the flinch of a finger.
"Michael," she said. "Don't ignore me. I've been speaking with your mother. I know why you're here. You don't have to do this."
Michael twitched at the mention of his mother but still didn't look in Abbie's direction. His teeth were gritted. He was determined. He truly believed this was something he had to do.
From Michael, Abbie looked to Jess. Watched the way she breathed.
"You're in labour?"
Jess nodded. Abbie looked back at Michael.
"It's Eddie you want. Let Jess go."
Michael said nothing. He didn't shake his head and still didn't look towards Abbie. Jess sobbed.
"She's innocent," Abbie said. "She has no idea who you are."
"Abbie—" Eddie began.
"Shut up," said Abbie. To Michael, she continued, "Jess doesn't know Eddie's your father."
Silence. Michael remained focused. Shock and anger rendered Eddie speechless. Jess spun, looked at Eddie, looked at Abbie, looked at Eddie, looked at Abbie.
"What?" she said.
"I asked if you knew Danny Dean," Abbie said to Michael. "I wish you hadn't lied."
Michael said nothing.
Jess said, "Abbie, what are you talking about?"
Her face was growing redder. She was clutching her stomach. She was in the very early stages of labour. As yet, there wasn't much pain. It would only get worse. Stress and fear were the last things the expectant mother needed.
"Michael, let Jess go. Please."
"I'm not going anywhere until someone tells me what’s going on,” Jess said.
"Don't be stupid," said Abbie.
"You're the stupid one," Jess said. "Eddie doesn't have any children. I'm carrying his first. Is that really what this boy thinks? Is that what he believes? He's standing here with a gun; he's obviously unbalanced."
Michael's skin paled. Afraid anger might lend him the confidence to pull the trigger and end Eddie's life, Abbie spoke fast.
"If you're so sure, look at him. Look at Michael, and look at your husband."
"What?" said Jess. "No. What? Why?"
"Look at them," Abbie repeated. "When your husband was a teenager, he slept with his girlfriend's friend and got her pregnant. When the baby was born, he offered to pay the mother decent maintenance if she promised to keep the child out of his life. The mother, a woman named Nell, accepted because she needed the money. Her parents paid her rent in a town many miles away. She only returned with her son, with Michael, when her parents died, and Nell inherited their home."
Jess was still staring at Abbie. "No." Whether she knew it or not, she was refusing to look anywhere else.
"Look at them," Abbie pressed. "Just turn your head. Look."
Still, Jess resisted. Abbie thought she might never look at her husband again if it meant she could ignore the truth of Abbie's words. Abbie was ready to keep trying. Before she needed to, Jess' head snapped to the teen with the gun, then to her husband.
Eddie couldn't look at Jess, but Jess stared at him.
The resemblance between father and son wasn't immediately apparent but was there. More than the way they looked, Eddie's eyes, cast towards his lap, revealed to Jess the truth.
"No," she said. "No. No. Ed, how could you? How could you keep this from me? How could you abandon your own son?"
Shame held Eddie's tongue. He kept his eyes in his lap. Wouldn't look at his wife.
Taking her hand off her stomach, Jess thumped Eddie's leg with a fist.
"Edward Dean, you answer me now. You say you love me, so you answer me right now."
Abbie was watching Michael. The boy hadn't yet pulled the trigger, not because he was riveted by the conversation, but because he hadn't found the courage. Conversation distracted him, gave his fear an excuse. A prolonged period of silence could mark the end of Eddie's life. Then again, so could someone enraging the teen.
Eddie said to Jess, "I'm sorry I never told you about him. We'll talk about it later. Right now, I have a gun pointed at my head. You think I'm an arsehole for not wanting to raise him, but I was a kid; I was stupid. And that I didn't feel up to raising the boy does not mean I deserve to be killed. Or do you disagree, Jess?"
Before Jess could answer, Abbie stepped in. Throughout Eddie's speech, she had watched Michael grow further and further incensed. Knew he had never been closer to pulling the trigger. Realised she needed to retrieve the situation from the brink.
"The boy has a name," said Abbie. “It’s Michael, and how dare you question his actions when you have no idea what he’s suffered because of your abandonment."
Focusing on Michael, Abbie continued, "I get why you're angry. Eddie abandoned you. You tried to reach out, and he rejected you. You grew up in a tiny flat, forced to watch your mother fall apart. Addiction claimed her, and because of that, poverty claimed you. Your life was miserable. Then you returned here, and what do you find? While your mother fell apart and you struggled to put food on the table, the father who abandoned you had found happiness. He had a wife, and a home, no money worries. Worse, while your mother's debts trapped you, while loan sharks banged on the door, you learned Jess was pregnant, and this time, Eddie was sticking around. The father who condemned you to a life of misery was about to bring another child into the world, a child he would treat how you always wanted to be treated. A child he would give the life you had for so long craved. That you saw all that, internalised all that and didn't immediately storm around to attack your father, to demand an explanation, shows you have courage, heart. Two things your father has never shown."
Face crumpled with misery and anger, Jess was staring at her husband again. She wished Michael wasn't there or that Abbie was lying. Wished her husband dared to look at his son. She didn't know what to say. She wished she, too, could be braver.
"I pushed you over the edge today," said Abbie. "You were already tangled up, confused, hurting. I gave you a gun and a speech about what a good father Eddie wanted to be for his unborn child. I gave you means and motive. Few could resist an opportunity at retribution when handed to them on a platter like that. While I was saving Eddie, you came here, pointed a gun at Jess and waited for your father to return. Now all you need is the courage to pull the trigger. Or that's what you think. But I'll tell you what I told Eddie when he wanted to kill Leona—it doesn’t take courage to kill someone you hate. It takes courage to spare them. Your father’s a coward, Michael. I need you to be brave. I'm begging you to be brave."
There were tears in Michael's eyes. He was staring at Eddie. Now his
hands were shaking.
"This isn't the same as with Leona."
Michael was on an emotional knife edge. What on Earth was Eddie doing? Did he want to die?
To the cowardly, cheating father, Abbie said, "Just shut up a minute."
But Eddie couldn't, "Leona killed my brother. She was a murderer. I was justified in wanting to end her life. How many children have grown up without a father? I'm sorry, kid, that your mother couldn't look after you, that she spent the money I gave her on drugs. That isn't my fault, though. That isn't a reason to kill me."
"But as I told you earlier," said Abbie. "You're the reason Danny's dead. By your own admission, that's reason enough to kill you, so why don't you just shut up?”
Abbie’s words did as intended. Michael was staring at her now, eyes glistening. Jess was staring at her husband as though he had transformed into a monster. To her, in a way, he had.
His face twisted into something hideous, Eddie said, "I didn't kill my brother. I loved him."
"You didn't love him," said Abbie. "You proved that when you created a situation in which he was always going to die. I knew you’d convinced him to steal from Francis because he learned of your affair but couldn't fathom why he would listen to you and steal the money, knowing you were hopping into bed with Leona."
Jess gave a squeal. Stared at her husband, praying he would deny the charges. Eddie’s refusal to look at her almost pushed Jess over the edge. Abbie wanted to comfort the brokenhearted wife but had to press on.
“Danny took almost no convincing,” said Abbie, “because he was desperate to help his nephew. The boy he had come to love. Michael, it's so important you know this. I heard Eddie and Danny talking, and Danny mentioned loving someone. I thought he meant a woman, but he didn’t. He meant you. Danny loved you. He stole from a dangerous criminal despite knowing there was a chance his scumbag brother was setting him up because he was desperate to help you, to give you something back after everything you'd suffered. Your father stole the money, and Leona told Francis Danny was to blame. Your father told Danny he would have to run to escape retribution from Francis, all so Jess wouldn't learn of his affair."
Michael's hand was shaking on the gun. Tears were rolling down his cheeks as they were down Jess'. Abbie turned her attention to Eddie.
"You think you're not responsible for Danny's death because you refuse to accept the effect your actions have upon people. From the moment he was born, your actions made Michael believe he couldn't trust anyone. A belief that was backed up throughout his life by the men his mother interacted with, so, when he finally met Danny, and when Danny professed to care for him, to want to help, Michael struggled to believe this could be true. Danny had to work hard to make Michael trust him, to build that bond, then what did you do, Eddie? What did you do?"
Eddie looked as though he couldn't breathe. It was all coming together. Anger pulsed through Abbie, but she couldn't stop now. No way.
"You stole the money Danny planned to give to Michael, and you made your brother flee. At that moment, you shattered the last hope Michael had of happiness and made him believe his uncle was a liar. Can you imagine the rage your son must have felt when Danny disappeared? And will it surprise you to learn what happened when Danny texted Michael asking him to visit the hotel room where he was hiding out, but warned the teen there was still no money, and never would be?"
Eddie stared at Michael. Such fury and rage in his eyes. Abbie wanted to cross the room, take the gun from the boy and shoot the man herself.
She said, "Michael, you put the knife in Danny, but your father killed him. Always remember that."
Eddie rose. Anger drove him. He was ready to storm towards his son. If he did, he would die. Michael would shoot him. Abbie would try to stop him, not because Eddie didn’t deserve to die, but because Michael didn’t deserve to be pushed again into becoming a killer.
Before he could move, Jess gave a cry of pain, grabbed her stomach, and bent over.
Rage forgotten, Eddie dropped to the sofa and put his arm around his wife's shoulder.
"What's wrong? Is it the baby?"
"Get off me." It was almost a scream. Jess shoved Eddie away, stood, and staggered halfway across the room. Near Abbie, she turned and pointed back at her husband.
"Don't worry about whether you should abandon this baby or not," she said. "You're never getting near them. You repulsive, sickening creature."
Jess turned, ready to storm out the door. Before she did, she faced her husband's first child.
"I'm leaving. Shoot me if you want. Good luck telling yourself you're not a monster if you're willing to kill an innocent, unborn child. Your brother or sister.“
She went. Abbie didn't try to stop her. Michael never took the gun off Eddie. When his father dropped to his knees, putting his head in his hands and sobbing, the teen moved his weapon so that it was pointed at Eddie's skull.
"You said it was cowardly to kill and brave to let someone live," said Michael. "You were right. But it's too late. I was already a coward. I was so angry. Danny was the only person who ever cared about me besides my mother, and I let my cowardice get the better of me. I let the anger take over. I don't even know why I took the knife. I must have planned it without thinking. Then he opened the door, and I just..."
Michael choked on the words.
Abbie stepped towards him.
"I know. I get it. You were weak, and you were a coward. I blame your father for what happened, but you allowed emotion to get the better of you. You'll go to prison for what you've done."
"Exactly. So I might as well kill this piece of shit first.”
Eddie still had his head in his hands. He made no move to fight or to reject the claims his son was making. Abbie took another step forward.
"I disagree. Maybe it won't impact your sentence, but it will impact your soul. It will change you. In a moment of fury, of weakness, you killed a kind man. For the rest of your life, that action will torment you, and it should. But that doesn't mean you can take another life now. This is different. This isn't a moment of madness. Your emotions have not got the better of you. This is a choice. Pull the trigger and let your soul fracture a little further, or give me the gun and start on the path of recovery. Because trust me, that's what you'll be on now. Killing a person changes you forever, but it need not define the rest of your life. Not if you're strong enough to fight to be better than your past actions."
Taking another step forward, Abbie held out a hand.
"The choice is yours. Please make the right one."
Michael looked at Abbie, then back at his father. The gun still shook in his hand, but at this range, he would never miss the skull if he fired. It was almost over. One way or another.
After a deep breath, Michael addressed his father.
"You don't deserve to live." He looked at Abbie, and she saw the face of a broken, defeated little boy. "But I don't want to kill again."
Crying, he turned from his father and held the gun towards Abbie.
Before she could take it, someone entered the room.
"Cor, it's tense in here."
Abbie didn't need to turn to know who it was. Someone who might look a bit like Abbie but who used to be a model.
Shocked, Eddie stood.
From behind Abbie, the woman said, "Ed, Francis isn't answering my calls. I think he knows about us. Plus, something else has happened. That means we're on to plan B. We'll leave tonight."
Eddie stared, his eyes wide. Abbie froze. What could she do?
"You're worried about Jess' kid," said Leona. “Time to remember what you told me. You don’t love her. Her kid doesn’t matter. I’m the one for you. Me and our baby."
Abbie spun to Michael. Wanted to grab the gun. It was too late. Fury grabbed the boy as Leona rubbed her stomach as though it were a magic lamp.
"Which reminds me," Leona said. "We need to talk baby names."
Michael swung the gun to Eddie as Abbie charged across the room and smash
ed into the teen’s shoulder.
As Michael and Abbie tumbled towards the ground, the gun discharged. In the small space, the sound was deafening.
Eddie span. Collapsed.
Sobbing, howling, Michael started scratching and punching Abbie. He knocked her away and lifted the gun. Abbie grabbed his arm, and he fired too early by mistake. He elbowed her in the face and brought the gun to his head.
Scrambling, panicking, Abbie was climbing to her feet. She grabbed Michael's arm and tugged it away. He fired. The room rang with the sound of the shot. In the distance, sirens were blaring.
Again, Michael was trying to pull the gun to his head.
Swinging a leg up, Abbie got on top of Michael. Twisting the gun in a sharp spin, she yanked it from the teen.
He screamed.
As he screamed, Abbie punched him hard in the face, twice, before grabbing the gun and with it knocking him unconscious.
Silence in the room, except some panting.
The sirens grew closer.
Shaking, Abbie rolled and rose to her feet. By the sofa bed, against the wall, she found Eddie clutching his shoulder. Blood soaked his sleeve and hand. Abbie had knocked Michael off balance as he fired. For the second time, she had saved the undeserving Eddie’s life.
Turning from the whimpering father, Abbie saw the hole in the wall where the third of Michael's three shots had entered. Turning towards the door, she saw the effect of the second.
Leona sat against a wall, clutching her side where Michael's accidental bullet had entered. Already, blood had ruined the carpet. Francis' wife's eyes were glazed as Abbie approached. Somehow, she managed a distant, dopey smile.
"Baby names," the bleeding Leona said. "I was thinking Tony."
"I think that sounds perfect," said Abbie before drying her eyes, taking the gun Michael never should have had and going to greet the police.
Thirty-Four
Abbie spent a long time going over the facts with Sanderson before he granted her request.