Torn

by Natasha Knight

  “Wow. I never thought you’d say that last part,” she says.

  “Where do you want to go?”

  Before she has a chance to answer, my phone vibrates on the table between us. We both look at the display.

  It’s Joseph Gallo. I pick up.

  “Joseph.”

  “I have news,” he says without a greeting. Ever since that night at his office, he’s been hard at work trying to prove his loyalty to me and I think maybe I judged him too harshly.

  “Lucinda?”

  “Yes. I had a call from her. Seems she’s in need of funds.”

  I smile. “I figured that was the way to smoke her out.”

  I froze hers and Ethan’s accounts when they disappeared. Only then did I realize she’s been stealing from him. Skimming money out of his account and putting it into hers. Stealing from her own son.

  “You can always count on Lucinda to be Lucinda. Where is she?”

  “Outskirts of Philadelphia.”

  “What’s she doing out there?”

  But I remember as I ask the question.

  Her family had an estate there that was condemned years ago, while my mother was still alive. I have some vague memories of conversations about it and my father telling Lucinda to let it go, that he wasn’t putting money into that dilapidated house.

  “From a look through her bank statements, she’s been rebuilding the Ayer house for years, Sebastian.”

  Ayer is her maiden name.

  “How the fuck did we not know this? To rebuild a house of that scale requires significant capital.”

  “She was smart in how she did it, small enough increments you wouldn’t notice the funds moved out of Ethan’s account, especially if you have no cause to expect that she’d steal from her own son.”

  “I should have caught it,” I say. I should have paid closer attention to the details.

  “What’s done is done. And the good news is even if you have a beautiful home, you need money to live and she’s out of it. I told her I’d transfer funds as soon as possible so she’ll sit tight. What do you want me to do?”

  “Ethan’s with her?"

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. Good. I want you to do nothing. I’m heading out there now. Should be there within twelve hours.”

  “All right.”

  “Any word on Gregory?”

  “Nothing yet.”

  “What about Amelia Willow?” I look up to find Helena’s eyes on me.

  “No. We’ll keep looking. She’ll turn up.”

  “Thank you, Joseph. You’ve been a good friend.”

  “Good luck.”

  “I’ve never relied on luck.” I stand up and tuck the phone into my pocket. “Pack a bag. We’re going to Philadelphia.”

  “Philadelphia?”

  I walk her inside. “Not the destination I had in mind either.”

  With the private jet, we arrive in Philadelphia in the early evening. By the time we drive to the house which is about forty minutes outside the city, it’s almost half past seven. The house is a huge, old, stone estate, a mansion boasting fifteen bedrooms and acres of land. I’ve only ever seen it in photographs and what I’m seeing now is vastly different from what was in those photos.

  I’m surprised to find the gates open and the house lit up, cars that would make any collector envious lining the drive.

  “I guess we’re lucky she’s throwing a party. I don’t imagine she’d have let us through the gate.”

  “The house is huge,” Helena says. She’s sitting beside me as I park our car and kill the engine. She turns to me. “What’s the plan?”

  “We’re crashing a party,” I say, opening my door and stepping to her side to help her out.

  It’s a crisp fall night and Helena hugs her jacket to herself. I’m in jeans and a T-shirt. It’s what I’d had on earlier that day.

  I take Helena’s hand and we walk toward the grand entrance of the house with its wide staircase leading to two oversized wooden doors. A man stands ready to open them, only momentarily eyeing our attire.

  It’s a fancy party. Just what I’d expect of Lucinda.

  Lucinda is easy to spot. I see her before she sees me. She’s standing on the bottom step of the grand staircase talking to a group of men and women. She’s smiling and from the way she uses her arms, I think she’s showing off the house.

  I smile wide, squeeze Helena’s hand, and stalk toward her.

  The crowd disperses. I only see them in my periphery because my eyes are locked on Lucinda, dressed in black from head to toe, her body too skinny, gaunt rather than slender, lending an almost witchlike quality to her. I don’t think the severe dark hair helps. Her natural is a mousy brown I remember from before.

  We’re almost to them before she notices us. I’m actually shocked how long it takes her. But the moment she registers our presence, her expression shifts to one of disbelief, then something close to horror.

  “Lucinda,” I say, coming to a stop a few feet from her. “If I’d known you were throwing a party, we’d have dressed for it.”

  It takes her a full minute to regain her composure. Long enough that the couples around her are looking questioningly at each other.

  “Excuse me,” Lucinda says, stepping through them and coming toward us. “My stepson is here. With his little girlfriend.”

  She stops a few inches from me, her eyes steady on mine but then turns to Helena and touches her cheek to Helena’s in greeting.

  I see her lips move and feel Helena tense, but I don’t hear what she says.

  “Sebastian!” It’s Ethan. He comes around the corner looking dashing in a tuxedo, smiling wide, holding a martini in one hand.

  If you didn’t know him, if you didn’t hear him talk or see him interact, you’d think he was like us. Normal.

  “Ethan,” I say, feeling something different than my usual irritation.

  I wonder how much of that annoyance was Lucinda’s influence all these years. She was always with him wherever he went. I don’t think that was out of motherly love either. But maybe I’m being judgmental.

  “It’s good to see you, brother,” I say.

  He reaches out to hug me, but stops, something like panic crossing his features when he sees Helena beside me.

  He shifts his gaze from hers to mine.

  “It’s okay, Ethan.” I look at him. “I know.”

  “You’re not mad?”

  “Not at you.”

  I turn back to Lucinda. “We need to talk. Now.”

  22

  Helena

  The house is spectacular. It makes the one on the island seem almost provincial.

  But I’d happily fly back to the island than be here in Lucinda’s house. Even seeing Ethan, even though I know he isn’t responsible for what he did, it’s hard not to cringe away.

  Lucinda, Sebastian and I gather in the library which spans the first and second floors. We’re on the upper level.

  There are enough people here that I don’t think anyone notices that the hostess is missing.

  It’s a magnificent library, but I can tell it’s unused, unloved. The scale and new-ness of it may make ours at the Willow house appear almost dusty, but I still prefer it to this one.

  The seating looks brand new, too new to be comfortable, and it isn’t. It’s leather and old fashioned and masculine. I get the feeling all of this is here for show.

  “I see you found your Willow Girl. All healed up, are you?” Lucinda asks me.

  Sebastian doesn’t waste any time after turning a circle around the place. He flashes a smile, one I know, one that sends a chill along my spine.

  He takes Lucinda by the arms. Gives her a shake.

  “Know that the only reason you’re not dead is Ethan.”

  “How dare you threaten me? In my own house.”

  “Your house? I think Ethan’s paid for the remodeling.” He releases her, takes a seat on one of the chairs. “I’m glad to see you used high end material
s, at least. I’ll be taking it over.”

  “Like hell you will.”

  “You stole from your own son.”

  She does that thing where her left eye twitches, but she sits down and, oddly, lights up a cigarette she takes from a box on the side table. I’ve never seen her smoke or smelled it on her. I didn’t know she did.

  “You shouldn’t smoke in the house. It’s not good for the paint,” Sebastian says.

  “What do you want?” Lucinda asks. “You here to punish me? For what I did to her or what I did to you?”

  “No, punishments are finished. You’re finished.”

  “What do you want then?”

  “I want you to disappear. I want you gone, out of Ethan’s life, out for good.”

  She snorts. “So, when you out him he’s left with nothing? I don’t know how he can be a threat to you after what you did. You took care of that, didn’t you?”

  Sebastian’s eyes narrow, but he takes it, even though it takes him a moment to reply.

  “I’m not outing him. This is just a variation of the deal I offered you before. Except this time, you’re going to accept it and you’re going to do exactly as I say.”

  “Or what?”

  “Or I will kill you, Ethan or not.”

  Lucinda looks at me, then back at Sebastian like she can’t believe what she’s hearing. I see how her hand trembles as she brings that cigarette to her mouth and draws in breath.

  “Ethan will never be the wiser as far as his parentage. I, quite frankly, don’t care who his father is. I’ll be sure he’s cared for properly. I’ll be sure he has his rightful place as a Scafoni son.”

  “What does that mean?” she asks, a sideways glance at me.

  “This has nothing to do with the Willow Girl. That’s still off the table and, quite frankly, none of your concern.”

  “What do I get?”

  “Money. The only thing you want. You’ll have a monthly allowance. A generous one. But you will never have contact with my brother again.”

  She taps ash into an ashtray, then smudges out the half-smoked cigarette altogether.

  “You have no options, Lucinda. You’re not welcome back on the island or in any Scafoni home. I’m making you this offer exactly once. You decide here and now. You take it, you say your goodbyes to Ethan, tell him whatever you want to tell him, and by tomorrow, you’re gone. You don’t take it, well, you’re still gone.”

  His threat makes me shudder. I wonder if he’s capable of that. Wonder how far he’s willing to go.

  “Ethan will take care of me.”

  “His accounts are managed by me now. He’s not fit, as you know, and you’ve been taking advantage.”

  “He’s my son, Sebastian.”

  “So is Gregory. I don’t hear you crying over him.”

  She studies Sebastian, her watery eyes looking, for the first time since I’ve known her, afraid.

  Sebastian stands.

  “Helena,” he says, holding out his hand to me.

  I take it, get to my feet, but stop a few steps later.

  “Why did you do it?” I can’t help but ask. “Why kidnap me and leave me in that room like that? What do you get out of hurting me?”

  Lucinda drags her gaze to mine.

  “I’ve seen the destruction the Willow Girls leave behind. You think I like living it twice?” She rises slowly, never taking her eyes from me. “I hate you, all of you,” she pauses. “I. Hate. You.”

  “Come on,” Sebastian says to me, dragging me toward the door. “Let’s go. You’re not going to get anything of value out of her.”

  I shudder when we leave the library. It’s literally like I’m shedding a cold, dead skin.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  “She’s so full of hate. I’ve never known anyone like that.” I lean against the banister, not realizing I was holding my breath. Downstairs a pianist plays classical music and guests mingle and drink champagne and eat canapés, blissfully unaware.

  “Forget Lucinda,” he says.

  “A little underdressed, aren’t you?”

  I jump when I turn to find Gregory standing against the wall. I wonder how long he’s been there. I wonder if he was listening at the library door.

  He holds up his glass as if in greeting, then drinks.

  Sebastian takes a step toward him. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Visiting mommy dearest,” he answers Sebastian but his eyes rest on me.

  “Did you know she was here all along?”

  He turns to Sebastian. “No. Just found out.” I can’t tell if he’s lying or not. “How’s our Willow Girl? I hope you’re taking good care of her.”

  I can almost hear Sebastian seethe when Gregory drags his gaze over me slowly, purposefully before stepping toward me.

  “Find the irons?” he asks, his breath a whisper that makes me shudder and I wonder if that is what he’s doing? Looking for a mark?

  “I want to go,” I say to Sebastian. “I don’t want to be here.”

  “We’re staying, Helena,” Sebastian answers, eyes on Gregory. “We’ll be here until I clear the house of vermin.”

  “Ouch,” Gregory says. “Does that mean only retarded brothers are allowed to stay?”

  An instant later, Sebastian and Gregory are nose to nose and I grab Sebastian’s arm to try to pull him off.

  “Stop it. Stop fighting!”

  “This one’s not over you, Willow Girl. Mind your own fucking business,” Gregory says.

  Sebastian takes hold of the collar of Gregory’s dress shirt and drags him to the banister, pushing him backward over it. His back is bent at what must be a painful angle.

  Gregory just grins at him, as if daring him to do more. To hurt him. To throw him over.

  “Stop, Sebastian. You’re going to hurt him. You’re going to really hurt him!”

  It takes him a long minute, but I watch as Sebastian takes in the people downstairs, looks at his brother, at how he’s holding him.

  It’s another few moments before he pulls him up, releases him and steps backward.

  “Are you okay?” I ask Gregory.

  He straightens the sleeves of his jacket, eyes on Sebastian, who turns his back.

  “Like you care, Helena,” Gregory says. He shifts his gaze to me, finishes his drink which he somehow managed not to spill. “Like you give a fuck.”

  Again, I find myself exhaling as I watch him disappear down the stairs and out the front door, depositing his empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray.

  “Christ,” Sebastian says.

  “Please, let’s go. Let’s get out of here.”

  “I can’t Helena. I have to make sure Lucinda does as she’s told.” He calls over a woman dressed in a uniform who comes out of one of the far rooms. “What’s your name?” he asks her.

  “Marion, sir.”

  “Marion. We need a room. Helena needs to lie down.”

  She looks at me with concern.

  “Of course. This way, Miss.”

  “I don’t need to lie down,” I tell Sebastian.

  “Go with her.” His gaze is down the stairs. “I need to take care of some things. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

  “Don’t go after him, Sebastian.”

  He turns to me, cups my face with his big hands. “You’ll be safe. No one’s going to hurt you anymore. Go get some rest.”

  I don’t have a choice, but between the time difference, the flight, Lucinda and, mostly, Gregory, I’m exhausted and I follow Marion into one of the bedrooms.

  23

  Helena

  Sebastian isn’t back when I wake up. It’s quiet and a glance at the window tells me it’s still night.

  I get up, hug my arms to myself for the chill. The clock on the nightstand says it’s a little after three in the morning. I go to the window, which overlooks the back garden of the house. Even in the darkness, I can see the property is expansive.

  In the bathroom, I splash wate
r on my face, wondering where Sebastian is. Wondering how I fell asleep like I did.

  When I open the door, the house is quiet. It’s almost like there’s no one here at all.

  I step into the hallway and walk toward the stairs, pausing at the library doors, remembering.

  It’s dark now, I don’t see any light from beneath the door. I’m barefoot so I don’t make any sound, but it doesn’t matter. There’s no one around, just a single lamp left on in the living room and a few glasses left behind as evidence of anyone having been here.

  I creep down the stairs and go to the front door. It’s not locked, and I open it and I’m relieved to find the car we came in still parked in the same spot as when we got here.

  I exhale, but what did I think? That Sebastian would leave me here?

  There’s another lamp left on in the large dining room. Here, clean crystal tumblers and flutes and a variety of wine glasses stand ready to be put away in the morning. I assume the door leading off the dining room is the kitchen and there’s a sliver of light beneath the door.

  I know it can be any one of them. Ethan or Lucinda or Gregory, but I go to it anyway, and I push it open a little.

  But this room, too, is empty.

  There’s a bottle of whiskey on the counter and two glasses on the table, each with the remnants of the amber liquid inside. The label is familiar. It’s the brand Sebastian and Gregory drink.

  Finding a clean glass, I pour two fingers for myself. I don’t know why, it’s not like I like it, but I take it and sit down in one of the chairs at the table and sip.

  I don’t know where Sebastian is. There hadn’t been a lock on the door for me to lock it, but maybe he didn’t know which room I was in. Or maybe he drank so much again that he’s passed out in one of the other bedrooms.

  The kitchen door opens then, and a gust of cold wind blows in.

  My heart leaps to my throat when Gregory steps inside.

  He appears just as shocked to see me as I am to see him, and it takes him a minute before he closes the door and seems to regain his composure, which he does faster than me.