It doesn't make any sense.
None of this makes any sense.
The only people that should have known about my father's existence right now is Richard Callaway, Zach, and finally myself. Now, I know that neither Zach nor I pulled the trigger. That only leaves Richard.
But I can't imagine why Richard would kill him on the eve of our planned event. From the very beginning, Richard has helped me plan this. He has worked tirelessly and endlessly to make sure this goes off without a hitch. Though he and I have very different ideas of how this event would be a success. He has no idea that the event is going to end in a fiery explosion because he’s one of the planned targets.
I suppose the plan could still go off the way we planned. I suppose we don't even need my father to be in that room. None of the guests who have RSVP’d even know what the event is about. For many of them they probably assume it’s a meeting to divvy up my father’s remaining assets amongst his closest associates.
So perhaps we can still lure them all into the trap. But we will still need someone to stand at the front of the room to keep everyone's attention while Zach and I make our way out of the building before anyone can notice that we are gone.
But that plan requires the absolute truth that Richard did not have anything to do with this. And right now, I'm not so sure about that. Because like I said the only people that know about Seth being alive are the three of us. Or at least, we are the only three people that should know about him being alive right now.
Or well, I guess we are the only three people that should have known he was alive. Because he's dead now.
I thought for the longest time that I would cry when this day finally came. It's not because I don't think he deserved to die. But no matter what he's done to me or anyone else in this world, the fact remains that he was my father. And because we share the same blood, it's impossible to not, on some level anyways, mourn the loss of someone I used to love; even if those days are long gone.
My throat is dry and parched, so I force myself to my feet to step out of the bedroom that's become a morgue. I make my way down the short hallway until I enter into the kitchen and immediately fill a tall glass of water.
I drink the entire first glass so quickly that it almost makes my stomach upset. I fill the glass back to the brim and then carry it back into the bedroom to offer it to Zach.
"Here, I brought you some water."
He shakes his head, declining my offer. His eyes shift around the room, and behind those emerald orbs, I can see him trying to make sense of what happened at the scene in front of him.
"Who could've done this?” he asks me. “If only us and your associate, Richard, knew that he was alive, then who did this?”
I just shake my head gently. "I don't know," I say as lowly as I whisper because I'm at a complete loss to be able to put the pieces together right now.
“You're obviously hiding something from me," he accuses with a pointed finger. “You either need to be honest with me or I'm out!"
I just continue to shake my head because the truth is that I don't know. And that's the goddamn truth. "You know as much as I do."
He steps out from around the bed and wraps his strong hand around my arm to pull me to the side of the bedroom. He pins me against the wall with fire burning in his eyes. And his breath is hot as hell against my skin, almost to the point where it scorches me. I glance upwards to try and reason with him with nothing more than my eyes. I'm hoping that he can see that I'm being honest in this moment, which might be a difficult proposition considering all the times I’ve ever lied to him in the past.
His teeth sink harshly into his bottom lip, almost drawing blood as he tries to figure me out. But there's nothing to figure out. I'm not playing any tricks, not this time. Not anymore.
"Please,” I plead with him. “You have to believe me."
"I want to believe you, Lola." He grits his teeth and shakes his head. "But there are a lot of things I want in this life and it doesn't mean I will get them. So if you know anything, now is the time to speak up because if I find out you're lying to me, I will walk away and leave you to handle this on your own. And I'm not playing games with you.”
“The only thing I'm doing is telling you the truth,” I grind out and muster all of the strength I possess to push him away from me. He stumbles backwards slightly before he catches himself. He hooks his eyes sideways to meet mine as I spin around to stand in the doorway of the bedroom. I drag the back of my palm along my forehead to wipe away the sweat that is trickling down from my hairline. "And if you don't believe me, there's nothing else I can say to you."
"Fine," he huffs and drops his head slightly. "I believe you," he says lowly, but it still comes out as somewhat of a growl, all the while he continues to shake his head as if he's not telling me the truth, as if he doesn't believe a word I'm saying. "I just don't understand how this happened."
"I'm trying to piece the information together myself," I stammer out loud. "And right now, I don't have any answers but we need to figure out what happened before we risk this blowing up in our faces.”
Just then, when I'm in the midst of trying to process things, I hear the front door of the house open. My eyes shift down the short hallway and before I know it, I see a pair of boots stepping on the hardwood floors. Zach looks down the hallway too, looks right over my shoulder. And then he grabs me by the waist and pulls me backwards so that we are out of sight.
Standing against the wall, my chest heaves as thoughts of a shit storm raining down upon us begin to run through my mind. Whoever that is in the hallway, it can't be good. And most likely whoever it is, he or she is likely to be the one who pulled the trigger and killed my father.
And now I just need to figure out why.
Zach steps in front of me and then peaks around the corner. I wish I can know what he is seeing right now, but I have a feeling I'm about to find out when I hear footsteps in the kitchen.
Zach retreats and stands firm with his back against the wall. When I look over to him, I see him breathing heavy too. Breathing as if something bad is about to happen.
And then I hear the footsteps coming down the hall.
I swallow nervously and try to think of a way out of the situation. When I look back over to Zach, he has his hand gripped tightly around the butt of his gun. His eyes shift downward to get a good look at the gun as he pops the cartridge out of the bottom. And I can't help but take immediate notice that the cartridge is empty. He shakes his head furiously and jams the empty cartridge back up into the gun.
"Shit," he whispers to me and twists his head sideways to look at the open bedroom door. The footsteps come closer and closer and that's when I think it might be time to run. As quietly as I can, I race across the length of the room and rip the curtains open. Zack's shadow follows me closely behind as I push the window up and open. I'm immediately hit with the cool breeze of the winter California air. Just what I'm about to push my way through the window, I crane my head over my shoulder once more to find the shadow of whoever is in the house just about to step into the bedroom.
I force my body through the window and land in the dry grass just outside. I shift my feet as quickly as possible and reach my hand through the window to grab onto Zach's so that he can climb out the window too.
But that's when it happens.
The man enters into the bedroom with his gun drawn high, aiming it squarely at Zach’s head.
Zach freezes in place and twists on his feet so that he is facing the man, and more importantly facing the gun straight on. I can't bear for this to be happening again. I can't bear being powerless when Zach is staring blankly ahead at the barrel of a gun, and once again it's all my fault. If I never would've dragged him back into this, he would not be in this position he is in right now.
And that weighs heavily on my heart and soul.
I squint my eyes and try to peek around Zach's muscular body to get a good look at the man.
It's none other than
Richard Calloway.
"What the hell is going on here?" Richard says as he steps carefully towards Zach with the gun still aim squarely at Zach’s head. "I mean, I think I have a good idea what's going on here but I’m just thinking out loud."
"Richard," I stammer with my hand braced against the window pane. "This isn't what it looks like."
"Really?" Richard cranes his head sideways so that he can glance at me from around Zach’s body. "Let me tell you a little story, princess. Your father didn't exactly trust you. He said so much himself.” He waves the gun at Zach. "And the funniest story is that he called me just a few short hours ago and told me that you had brought this man back into the fold. And he definitely doesn't trust him." His teeth sink into his lip and he chuckles under his breath as if this is funny. But it's not. "And just look at what we have here, your father’s dead body lying in bed and the only probable witnesses are the two of you."
"You're wrong." Zach pushes his hands into the air as if he surrendering. But I know better. He wouldn't surrender unless absolutely necessary, and right now I don't feel like it's necessary. We can still talk our way out of this. "Whatever you think you know, you don't. Whatever you think is going on here, then it's probably the exact opposite."
"Sorry, buddy." He takes another step forward and narrows his eyes on Zach. "I think this is the finish line for you. I'm going to do what Seth should have done in the first place.” he cocks the gun and pushes the barrel against Zach’s forehead.
“Stop!” I scream, pleading with him to just take a moment and to think about this. "Why would I go through all of this trouble with you to set up this event, if I was only going to turn around and have him killed on the eve of the event?"
"Do you think I care that he's dead?” He shakes his head wildly. "Because I don't. With or without your father, I’m still Richard Calloway. Don’t you remember?”
I nod. "Yes, I remember."
“We had a plan. And it looks like you've gone back on that plan, and now I don't know where I stand." He takes a step back and bites his lip again, as if he's contemplating another option. "And right now, I don't think I can trust either one of you." He raises the gun to scratch at the side of his head like a true maniac, but I've never known him to be a maniac. In fact, he's always been reserved compared to the rest of my father’s associates. Yes, he’s still a man capable of brutal acts of violence, and yes, he still needs to pay the price for his sins, but relatively speaking, he’s better than most of my father’s men. “This plan doesn’t have to be a complete waste of my time. In fact, I’m thinking that I might just take the reins.” He passes me a cocky, satisfied grin. “Unfortunately, that means the two of you need to go.
"Don't do this." Zach wets his lips and takes a step backwards towards the window, towards me. "Whatever you want, you can have it."
"Yeah, I don't think you're understanding what I'm trying to say." He slowly lowers the gun back to point squarely at Zach’s head as a wild grin hitches across his lips. His finger flirts with the trigger, flirts with ending Zach's life once and for all.
Zach, like always, has something up his sleeve. And though I don't quite know what it is yet, I know he's about to do something. And I only hope that he's able to do whatever it is he's going to do before Richard pulls the trigger.
With a lightning fast pace, Zach twists on his feet. He lunges himself towards the window and manages to dive through the small opening just as Richard pulls the trigger.
The bullet shatters the window, sending debris all over both of us as he lands on the ground beside me.
Zach makes his way to his feet, and I do the same. I give chase to him as he races around the side of the house. And when he heads straight towards my car, I scream out his name. He cocks his head to face me as I dig my keys out of my pocket and toss them to him.
The lights on the car flash as he presses the unlock button and swiftly drops down into the front seat of the car. I race around the front of the car and hop into the passenger side just as he turns the ignition. When he throws the car into reverse, Richard comes running out the front door of the house with his gun held high.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ZACH
What the hell have I gotten myself into? I think to myself as I shift the car into reverse. Tires squeal against the asphalt as we begin racing backwards. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Lola ducking her head beneath the dash as Richard begins firing from the porch steps.
The first bullet hits the windshield, sending a spiderweb of cracks along the surface of the glass. The second bullet hits right beside the first and cracks the windshield even more. I, too, drop my head down in an effort to duck out of the way as a barrage of bullets continues to hit the windshield. Once we’re at the end of the driveway, I speed out into the road and am protected by thick trees and a concrete barrier.
I throw the car into drive, the tires squealing against the asphalt once more. And as we speed away from the house and take a sharp right turn onto a neighboring road, Lola finally picks her head up and stares at me blankly.
I grip my hands tight around the steering wheel, trying to make sense of what's just happened. Whatever the case, I know that the situation is only going to get worse from here. It's only going to escalate. I don't know much about Richard. I had only heard of him briefly during my first adventure, if you want to call it that, with Lola.
Because I don't know him, I can’t deduce what he's going to do. And I can't figure out if he was the one who killed Seth. In the back of my mind, I try to make sense of why he would kill him and the only thing I can come up with is that he wanted to set us up to take the fall.
If that's the case, then what he's after is power. And that makes him dangerous as hell because the most dangerous people in this world are people who will climb to power at any cost. They do not care who they have to destroy in the process.
When I catch Lola out of the corner of my eye, she’s shaking in her seat. She looks as if she could cry, but I know it's not because her father is dead. That can't be the reason. Not when the entire purpose of me working with her was to ensure that he was dead once and for all.
No, I imagine the reason she is upset is because her carefully crafted plan is now in shambles.
I glance up to the rearview mirror to make sure we're not being followed as we begin to make our way down the mountains of the Hollywood hills. There are only two lanes and they are both narrow. It's not like the city at large. Up here it's more peaceful. But the events at the temporary Grimm household have brought a darkness to these hills.
Once I'm sure that we are far enough away from Richard, I decide it's as good a time as any to come to a stop. I pull over onto the side of the road, the tires kicking against sand and gravel as we come to a stop. I kill the engine and the lights, and throw one arm behind Lola’s headrest as I glance at her.
It's quiet as hell here. The kind of silence that I'm not exactly used to. Even in my favorite place in the world, at the top of Runyon Canyon, there is still noise and pollution. Somehow, it's even quieter here.
"The first thing I'm going to ask you is are you okay?"
She cocks her head and licks her lips. There's a pale, haunted look written all over her face. She looks ill. She finally looks to me with fear and confusion in her eyes. “The truth is that I don't know." She sighs and glances out the passenger window. “I spent so long crafting this plan, and now it's all going down in flames."
"And what about Richard?"
She shakes her head. "I don't know," she says softly. "He thinks we did it. And I don't know what he's going to do with that information, no matter how misguided it might be. He could go and tell everyone that my father was still alive up until tonight, and he could tell them that that was what the event was about. But most likely, I think he will try to take over the company. There's nothing left standing in his way, nothing except us anyways." She glances back to me. "And something tells me he's not going to stop until we are both dead, becau
se we’re the only thing that stands in his way.”
I try to process what this all means. And as I shift my weight so that I'm leaning against the car door and the glass window, I catch my reflection. This was the last thing I wanted. Being dragged back into this world isn't something I ever would've gone looking for. But when Lola came to me, she offered me a way out. A way to finally put this all behind me and I took the bait, and now I'm standing on the precipice of dying once again.
I chew into my bottom lip as I try and formulate a plan but all I'm doing is drawing blanks.
I pop open the car door and climb to my feet, then close the door behind me before I step to the edge of the trees that line the road. From behind me, I hear Lola’s door open and then I hear her feet landing against the ground. She closes the door and steps beside me.
We both stare out into the distance. In between trees, I'm able to catch glimpses of the city down the mountain.
The night air is cool but my body is like an oven.
"We have to stick to the plan." She glances over at me with something brewing in her eyes. I can't quite make sense of what, but the wheels of her mind are turning like there's a hamster in a spinning wheel. "We have to make sure that everyone is on that rooftop tomorrow night when the bomb goes off. It's the only way this will ever be over."
She's right but I don't know how we get the plans back on track. If Richard so much as utters a word to any of the associates, then we will lose the element of surprise. It will put people on high alert when they otherwise would have no reason to be. It could convince people to not show up for the event.
Our only hope is that Richard is selfish enough and stupid enough to still attend the event. And though we will no longer be hosting the resurrection of Seth Grimm, something tells me that Richard will turn the event into something else. Even if he believes that we killed Lola's father, he has no reason to suspect that the entire event was to be a set up.
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