by K A Sands
I laughed, the air around me tasting sweeter than ever at her words, a weight lifting from my chest. When she pulled back the curtain, Shaun grinned at me, his teeth still bloody, but fuck - all my breath escaped, and I rushed to his side, anxious to feel him.
“Love you.” I bent over to carefully kiss his nose.
“Love you, baby.”
Tony
I knew exactly where the ex Mrs. Rinaldi had gone. Although I’d been sloppy lately, I was still a kick ass PI and when I sat and concentrated on who exactly Stella was, it came to me.
She’d gone home.
Keeping that fact to myself, I let the family pick up their pieces from yesterday and have their day together, the wedding hadn’t been cancelled to my knowledge. I wasn’t sure what Stella’s next move was, but it would have been a foolish one coming back to Brighton. She was no fool. I put a plan together in my head and I was going to be face to face with her far sooner than she would probably have liked.
“So…” my brother said.
“So…” I mimicked his words as I stirred my coffee.
“Baby’s been found.” I knew this. “Van’s been found.” I didn’t know this.
“What van?”
“The van that rammed the boys off the road.” Boy, she had some fucking guts that was for sure. Balls bigger than mine and that was saying something. “It’s got Stella Rinaldi written all over it. Prints were quick because we knew what we were looking for. They are hers, she didn’t bother to hide it.” I stared blankly at him. “One day, Tony. That’s all you get. One day.”
My brother often extended these favours if I had a vested interest in a case, they normally rolled to his advantage because I was very good at persuading people to do the right thing and turn themselves in. But Stella wasn’t just anyone.
“The kid made a statement. She ran him off the road.” The disgust in his face mirrored my own.
“Her kid?” I wasn’t asking him the question.
Fuck. Looking out the coffee shop window I cursed. Was I surprised? Hell, yes. Her own kid no less. What kind of a person did that? She really was a psychotic bitch and I couldn’t help her here.
“I have a statement and a warrant. The case was handed to me, what with having questioned her last month and a still open case regarding Laura Hamilton.”
“At six o’clock in the morning?”
“You and me,” he pointed between us, “we don’t sleep.” He grimaced at me. “Dog with a bone. They’re nice people, don’t deserve to be terrorised the way they have been. You can’t try to kill people and not pay the consequences, Tony.”
He was right, so right. I’d worked for Lucca and Ryder a long time now and I liked them both. Fucking Stella was nothing personal, I wasn’t betraying them. She was simply my type - filthy, dangerous, narcissistic. She could hold her own and I always fell hard for those types when I could find the ones that were scattered wide and far. People like Stella didn’t come along often. Yeah, I’d taken advantage, I’d been attracted to the woman for a while but fuck it. My job had always been about her and now, she’d be going to jail, my job would be over, and I had to figure out where my own feelings sat when all was said and done.
“I’ll give you one day, brother.” He knew me so fucking well. “Then you get your little fuck toy to come on in.”
“Hear you, bro.”
I consumed my coffee; one cup was never enough to get me going. I still felt groggy after whatever the hellion had jabbed me with yesterday. I called the waitress over and she skipped to our table, I shit you not. Too early to be so cheery.
Carafe in hand, she asked, “more coffee, gentlemen?”
I snorted, like real piggy style snorted, inelegant, while my suave brother flashed the waitress his best smile. Wanker. He was old enough to be her father, at least twice her age. Then I laughed. Yeah, he’d bone anything with a pulse as long as they were legal. She tottered away after filling our cups, her tennis shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor.
“So what else is new?” I asked.
“Fuck all, bro.”
“You not ready for a change yet?” My brother hopped from force to force, never staying for long. He’d been down in Brighton a while now and I figured he’d be getting itchy feet shortly. He could never settle, anywhere, or with anyone.
“Nah. I kinda like seeing your ugly mug as much as I do.”
My grin was genuine as fuck, full of warmth toward him. We weren’t particularly close, but we had a relationship which was more than some brothers had. Finishing up, I threw a tenner on the table in front of him.
“I’ll be back with your woman.”
“One day,” he reminded. “Then I come get the cuntneck myself.”
Waving behind me, I sauntered from the café, walking out into the sunshine. It was chilly, but it was early yet. Stretching my neck, I tilted my head to the sky and took a deep breath.
Beautiful day for a wedding.
Taylor
Subdued.
But no less beautiful than it would have been had Stella not thrown her wrath in our direction.
My sister cried, as most brides do on their wedding day, but this was a culmination of many different emotions.
In the end there were six of us, if you didn’t count Emily who was currently bouncing around on Sophie’s knee. We’d picked Shaun’s sister up from the hospital, satisfied her brother and Ayden were going to be fine, her smile the first genuine one I’d seen in a long time. Dad was standing off to the side giving the boys a minute by minute play of the meagre proceedings on his iPad.
Laura and Lucca had cancelled it all, except the nuptials. They hadn’t wanted the grandeur without the whole family. There was no care as to the amount of money they lost, the food sent to homeless centres in Brighton, the flowers to churches, Laura’s beautiful dress hung in a closet.
Instead she wore a simple yellow sundress with a cream jacket, Lucca a blue striped suit. No coats and tails. No tiaras or veils.
“Another day,” she’d said as she closed the wardrobe door. “When we’re all together. There’s time.” Her smile had been forced, my heart sore.
We hugged fiercely, drawing strength from each other, like we always did.
They were determined to be husband and wife. Stella would not take that away from them. She wasn’t winning this fight. That woman would never take another thing from any of us.
Once again, she had vanished into thin air. No one could find her. I had a sneaking suspicion we had finally seen the last of her. Something told me Stella had done her worst, had no appetite for more. She’d tried to kill her own son, she’d have to live with that fact on her conscience - if she had one at all.
It didn’t matter, if I saw even a strand of her hair, I’d put her down myself, damn the consequences. I wasn’t alone in the sentiment.
So, there it was. Husband and wife. My beautiful sister was no longer mine to care for, she had a love who would cherish her the way she was meant to be cherished. A man who would love her until her dying day, without a doubt.
Laura may not have had any children but in Ayden she’d found a son, and in her he’d found a mother. In Sophie she’d found a girl so lost and broken, a girl who needed someone like my sister to love and nurture her like a mother should. And Laura would rise to that challenge and excel. I knew it with certainty. She would be the best.
Laura was right where she belonged. Home.
Our family was whole, and no one was taking it from us.
Tony
The door wasn’t locked. The woman didn’t really fear for her safety at all, did she? Not sure if she was home or not, I entered the house quietly. There was no sign of any cars but that was neither here nor there, the extensive garage door was down, she could have parked up inside. I stood in the hall and thumbed a text to my brother. Precautions. I didn’t usually like taking them, but I also didn’t want to be languishing with a slit throat for two weeks undiscovered. I couldn’t do that to him.
Stella was capable of anything.
The house was eerily quiet, smelled musty, stale, like nobody had been around for a long time. I didn’t make my presence known as I wandered around the downstairs, opening doors and peering in empty rooms. The odd garment of clothing drew my attention and I took note of the peculiar placements.
They unnerved me.
The quiet unnerved me. The place felt like a tomb.
Something wasn’t right with this picture. Not at all. I’d been in this house before and now it just felt all wrong. I knew the layout, so it was easy enough to navigate but my search of downstairs came up empty. Having no idea which rooms were still in use, I headed up the stairs, passing another piece of discarded clothing. A pair of grey sweatpants. Not Stella’s style.
With each step closer to what was once Lucca and Stella’s master bedroom, my unease grew, my senses tingling. Stopping outside the bedroom door, I squeezed my eyes shut and took a breath, counting to three before I moved inside.
She was in here. Without a doubt. In the bathroom.
I wasn’t going to like what I saw.
Touching nothing of the potential crime scene, I inched toward the bathroom door, leaning off to the side of it. Kicking my foot out, the door swung wide and I chanced a look around the wooden frame.
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
There was no need to hurry to her aid, so I didn’t. I crouched at the door, not wanting to walk inside and disturb the scene, and pulled my phone from my pocket. My brother answered first ring, he’d been waiting.
“Come get her.” I couldn’t disguise the sadness lacing my words.
Hanging up, I plonked my arse on the floor to wait for him, the smell of death violating my nostrils.
Rolling my head around, my eyes connected with hers. But she wasn’t looking at me, she saw nothing. I stared at the waste of a woman and wondered how she’d ended up such a fucked-up mess. She had been smart, gorgeous, even funny at times, yet nothing derailed her from taking her revenge.
She’d stayed ugly, right to her bitter end.
Her purpled fingers draping over the edge of the bath were devoid of her usual gold rings, her nail varnish chipped. As my eyes wandered over the skin of her body, I shivered, hating the sight of her dishevelled hair and her streaked make up. This was so far removed from the Stella I knew. Not in a million years would she ever let anyone see her flawed like this. Yet, it was her, how she was inside, and I realised there was nothing more perfect than how she was now.
Was I wrong to feel disappointed this was the way it ended? Wrong to feel sadness for a woman who wouldn’t have felt the same for me? To feel something for a woman who did nothing but hurt people she should have held close? I didn’t pretend to understand; her discretions were not mine to dissect.
Perhaps, in time, I would.
“Sleep tight, sweetheart. May your demons be quiet now.”
Stella
Cold. Stale. Unloved.
Had this house always felt this way? Had I projected myself in such a way that this place never had any hope of ever becoming a home?
There was no chaos here. Everything had its place. Its purpose.
Sterile. Banal.
It had all been a sham. Much like my marriage to Lucca. Much like my life.
I stripped off my clothes as I wandered through the house, not caring where they landed. Heading toward the bathroom suite, I placed my bag on the counter as I switched on the overhead light, illuminating the stark white sterile walls. Pushing the stopper into the bottom of the claw foot tub, I turned on the hot tap and swirled lavender essence through the water. It was my mother’s favourite.
The tub was a jacuzzi but there would be no jets to soothe me today. I had just the thing in my bag.
You’re all wondering about that third syringe, right?
Yeah. I was never walking away from this. From Lucca.
From Ayden.
I had nothing then. I have nothing now. When you shot a man you could have loved in the head and walked away without a morsel of regret, when you run your own son off the road, try to kill his father - there’s no coming back from those sins. There is no purpose befitting a human being like that.
Like me.
My days were always numbered. I’d been lost for a very long time. It was time for the devil to finally claim his child. It was time to make my exit.
Twenty-two years.
Eight thousand and thirty days.
A lifetime since I’d started my journey of revenge.
I was the poison sifting through your veins. The voice in your head amplifying your doubts. The dread you felt while you looked over your shoulder. I stood on your chest and kept you down, pushed your head under water. Plunged a knife in your body and watched you bleed out. Burned your house and inhaled the ashes.
I chose my own fate. On my own terms, much like I’d lived my miserable life. Only I could finish what I’d started.
Epilogue
Lucca
I’d finally embraced the disgust I’d held onto for so long, and as I drove back to Beaufort with Laura, I did so in broody silence. Afraid that if I opened my mouth, I’d spill all and sundry to the woman sitting next to me who didn’t need to hear all the shitty details of my relationship with Stella. There was no way I wanted to project my loathing of Stella, on Laura.
Trying to look on the bright side was difficult. Shaun’s surgeries had gone well, and by the time we’d left the hospital, he’d been awake. Groggy, but awake and being smothered by Ayden, who’d turned into Mother Hen. If I’d been in any other mood, it would have been amusing to watch the way he mooned over his boyfriend.
Blowing up Ryder’s phone every ten minutes had finally proved fruitful. In between calming Ayden down and cancelling wedding plans, I’d been anxious to hear from him. In floods of tears, he’d recounted exactly what had gone down with Emily, and my heart had plummeted further. I hated I couldn’t be there to give him comfort, a shoulder to lean on, but I needed to be with my son. The phone call was a stark reminder that our lives had changed, we had our own families to look after.
Shaun was banged up but fine, Ayden the same, Emily tucked up in her mother’s arms - that’s all that mattered.
The fifty-minute drive home had been quiet, both Laura and I lost in our own thoughts. When I entered the house, the moment of weakness I’d feared submitting to over the last however many hours, ultimately found me in all its simple glory.
A single white helium balloon, weighted down with a black ring box, bobbed about in the kitchen. I’d forgotten Shaun’s plans but the reminder hit me in the face when we walked into the kitchen and it put me on the floor. It was the hub of the house, where I’d got down on one knee just a few short months ago and proposed to Laura. It was no wonder he’d chosen the cosy room to do the same.
Laura had sat down beside me and wrapped me in her arms where we held one another and cried. Everything was catching up. I needed the release, my anger simmering under my skin a distant memory. We’d eventually got up from the floor and made our way to the bedroom, climbing under the covers to escape reality for a while. We’d lain face to face and talked about everything, our hopes and fears spilled between the sheets, our trials and triumphs celebrated equally.
When Laura finally gave in to her heavy grief over Ayden and Shaun, Emily too, I’d drawn her close and we’d fallen asleep together with the promise of a better day come morning.
Our wedding had been quiet, not the rowdy affair it had been slated to be the day before. I’d put my foot down when my future wife said there was no way we could do it. I compromised, her wish to donate everything was fine by me as long as she still said her vows and let me say mine.
I missed my son, seeing him on the iPad was what I had, and it was better than not having him at all. We didn’t worry over Stella, she’d done her usual; ruined and ran. I refused to spend another second of my life worrying about what was coming next with her. There
was nothing more she could do. She’d tried to take everything from me, almost succeeded as well, but at the end of the day we came out the other end stronger and wiser. She had no place in my head while I was marrying the love of my life.
We’d spent the rest of the day at the hospital, took food and cake and camped out in the small side room with Shaun and the rest of our family. It had been a tight fit, but when I’d looked around the room at everyone, and saw how happy we were together, I wouldn’t have been anywhere else in the world.
Despite the events of the past few days, the mood had been buoyant, uplifting. We were going to be okay. We were. I could feel it down to my bones, a shift had happened. We wouldn’t be looking over our shoulders again. Not for Stella.
* * *
A man of the law knocking at the door before nine a.m. any morning was never a good sign, yet I wasn’t particularly surprised to see Detective Adrian Stenhouse standing awkwardly in the rain when I opened up.
“Lucca,” he said. “Can I come in?”
I waved a hand out to my side, the silent invitation clear, then stepped out of his way so he could enter and not soak me in the process.
“Thank you.”
“You want some coffee?” I asked as I beckoned him to follow on through to the kitchen.
“Might be an idea. God, I hate the weather at this time of year.” He shrugged off his coat, hanging it on the edge of the door as he passed through into the hub of the house, and pulled out a stool at the island. “Your wife around?”
I grinned at his use of wife. “Still sleeping. Long day yesterday.”
“Your boy okay? And Shaun?”
“Yeah, they’ll be fine.” I made the coffee, placing a mug in front of him along with the sugar and milk, then took a seat opposite. “You can cut the pleasantries, Adrian. You’re here in a professional capacity. Spill it or leave, I got married yesterday and I really want to get back to bed with my wife.” I tilted my head at him in encouragement.