The Collar of Sacrifice

  “Where are we meeting your father?”

  “At The Shard.”

  “The new building? In the city center?”

  “Yes.”

  “I haven’t been there yet.”

  “Me neither.”

  That’s all he said, nothing else.

  The Shard has been in the papers all year round. It’s one of the tallest buildings in Western Europe, with offices connected directly with the underground, restaurants, and bars; one would think this is a perfect place to work. Add to that concoction the hotel that occupies the central section of the building with the residences above, where the building is slender enough for apartments to have views on all sides, and you’ve got a miniature town in this glass structure. And, the top of the cherry, so to say, are the final floors which have the UK's highest viewing galleries. It’s a shame the viewing platforms are not open. The plan is for them to open to the public in March of next year.

  After a few moments of silence, or talking to myself, in front of me I see a spire-like sculpture, The Shard.

  “Wow. From over here it looks like it’s emerging from the river.”

  “It does, doesn’t it?” Nope. Not even small talk helps.

  “Do you know the name of the restaurant we’re going to?”

  “The Oblix.”

  “The Oblix? I haven’t heard of it. What floor is it on?”

  “Thirty-second.”

  ~

  We arrive at The Shard fifteen minutes later and the taxi leaves us outside the building.

  As we enter, I notice that the ample amount of elevators in the building makes it look like barely anyone is about. I press the button and the doors of the elevator in front of us open immediately, as if waiting specially for us. Alexander gestures me to enter first, as a true gentleman, and follows close behind me.

  His eyebrows are knitted; I’m sure he doesn’t even know it. I wish I knew what’s going on in his head. Is he afraid? Angry? Sad? With a lifetime of practice, his face skillfully hides so many feelings. He’ll meet his father for the first time in fifteen years. And I understand him. I look at his sky blue eyes for a moment and, as if he heard my questions he grabs hold of me with them. The second they dart to my lips I know. He’s using his charge over me to push away his nervous thoughts.

  “Don’t.”

  His nostrils flare in sudden anger. I’ve seen through him and he’s mad at his transparency.

  “Alexander. Don’t do that.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do,” his cold reply comes back.

  The thirty-second floor comes quickly. The doors open and we’re met by a tall blonde woman standing behind a reception desk.

  “Good afternoon, Sir, Madam.”

  “Good afternoon.” Alexander’s dark voice is even deeper now.

  “Your name?”

  “Reeves.”

  She slides her pen through the reservation book, searching for his name and upon finding it, she stops and, holding the pen at one spot in her list, she opens the drawer underneath her and pulls out a small envelope.

  “Mr. Reeves? Alexander Reeves?”

  “Yes.”

  “This was delivered for you twenty minutes ago.”

  Alexander looks at me nervously and takes the envelope from her hand.

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you ready to go to your table?” she asks him.

  “Has our guest arrived yet?” I interject, grabbing her attention and allowing Alexander to open the envelope uninterrupted.

  “No, no one’s arrived yet.”

  “Amelia, why don’t we come back in ten minutes?” he lifts his eyes from what seems like a small post-it note, with his eyebrows furrowing even more over them.

  “Come back? Where shall we go?” I’m confused.

  “I want to show you something.” He places his hand on my upper arm and squeezes me so tight, I nearly squeal in pain. With the other hand he takes his cell from his jacket pocket and passes it to the Hostess.

  “Call Christian Davies, tell him I’m having lunch in here, okay? He should come.”

  Before the elevator’s door closes he helps me take a step bigger than usual with my crutches and we’re inside, the doors sliding shut behind our backs.

  “Why call Christian Davies? What’s going on?”

  Instead of a reply all I see is his hand curling into fists and him, punching the walls of the elevator with so much strength, that we shake from the impact.

  “Fucking whore!”

  “Alexander?”

  “It’s Madison! Or not, fuck me if I know! Maybe it’s him, my father, working with her!”

  I grab the pink post it note from his hand and read it.

  “If you want to see your father alive, I’ll be waiting on the seventy-second floor. Madison.”

  “Alexander, let’s wait for Christian.” I grab his hand at the same moment he presses the 72nd floor in the lift.

  “No. I want to see it for myself! I know he’s working with her!” He bangs his fist on the wall again. “Fucking bastard of a father!”

  The doors open on the seventy-second floor and the first thing we feel is the cold winter air on our faces. The whole setting looks bad to me. The platforms are not open yet for the public. What are we doing here? It’s not safe. At this height the wind is blowing in my hair, and I’m not even outside.

  Alexander exits the elevator in a hurry, maddeningly searching for Madison and his father. I hop slowly behind him and at about the same time, we both see his father standing outside on one of the platforms. There is a set of stairs going up to the place where he’s waiting, with his back to us.

  “I knew it!!” he thunders. “I knew he had something to do with it!” His father turns sideways but Alexander is fast, and angry. In a second he’s next to him, on the edge of the platform.

  “You did it, didn’t you?” He starts punching him in the head, in the body, anywhere he can. “You fucking motherfucker, you brought this on us! I don’t need you!! I never needed you!!” Furious, Alexander cannot stop himself. Blow after blow rain down upon the man who wronged him, the man who made a ten year old boy suffer all his life in pain. I wish I could join him over there and show him my wrath. How dare he! But I know I must stop him so I scream his name.

  “I’m going to fucking kill you, once and for all!” He punches him hard, deaf to anything else but his rage. “You ruined my life, you ruined my family!” His knuckles are red from the blood spilled. “You ruined everything, my brother, my sister.” His father isn’t even defending himself. “You made everyone hate me!!”

  It seems…oh god! He’s tied! His father is tied and he cannot defend himself. But he’s not even trying. He could at least turn around, not receive every blow with pride. As if he wants this, as if this is his penitence. “I fucking hate you!” Alexander craved this all his life. All his pent-up anger is out and he’s killing his father with it.

  “Alexander!!” I scream louder to get him out of the deadly zone. “He’s tied!!”

  He glances at me, and then at his father, who looks at him with a bloody nose, all bruised and battered. I see him clenching his teeth more to suppress his emotions than to hurt him. He looks away from us, and then back at him, his face contorted in pain. He’s futilely trying to hide his true feelings but they get the better of him. One last punch is delivered on the ledge, next to where his father is laying. His shoulders shrug, his frenzy broken.

  “Why, dad?” he asks through clenched teeth. “What have I ever done to you?” The pain he has lived with is insufferable.

  “I’m so sorry, Alexander.” The tears in his father’s eyes shine from afar. “If I could go back in time, I would, son. I think about you every day…”

  Suddenly I hear a gun firing and laughter uglier than the witch herself. Madison!

  “We must get away from here!” I shout again in panic; I don’t know where she’s hiding.

  Alexander surveys the platform quickly but he too, can
’t see Madison. I see him wiping his tears from his cheek with the back of his hand and untying the rope, struggling with it; he needs to pull his father away from the ledge, to safety. His father doesn’t seem worried one bit. Calmly, he places his palm over Alexander’s, prompting him to stop and regard him. Looking from afar, it’s like time stands still.

  “It was me.”

  Alexander just stares at him; I’m not sure he comprehends. And me? I feel goose bumps all over my body. What did he just say? It was him?

  “I was the one with Jack White that day, when your mom died.”

  “What?” A whisper reaches me. Alexander’s face becomes a canvas of every single emotion that goes through him, creating destruction inside. His eyebrows knit together and overwhelming sadness fill his eyes. New tears build up and brim, threatening at any moment to fall onto his cheeks. Suddenly, they engulf his eyes, and sobs start to escape.

  With the bombshell delivered, and trying to grasp the enormity of the moment, his grip relaxes and at that moment a lever falls off from his father’s hand, sending him over the ledge.

  “NO!” Alexander yells and in last second he grabs his hand.

  “Alexander, it’s okay.” He’s hanging thousands of meters up, and he hasn’t even flinched. “You sacrificed so much. It’s my turn now.” His father has given up. Did he do this on purpose? Oh god! He was the one who killed his mother and blamed Alexander all these years? Why? Tears form in my eyes as I watch the family saga unfolding in front of me. For Alexander, for having a son of a bitch of a father. I don’t care if he is remorseful, he’s a bastard! They’re both crying; he’d better not die, Alexander needs his closure.

  “Hold on to me!” Alexander yells with a quivering voice. “Dad!!”

  “Alexander, let me die. Please, I miss your mother so much.…”

  “No! Dad! Don’t you dare!!” he’s shouting. “Hold on to my hand!! Dad!”

  “Sorry, son, but I came here to say goodbye.”

  “NO!! Noooo!!”

  His father lets go of his hand, leaving Alexander in agony as he watches him fall down thousands of meters to his death. A beastly, guttural, penetrating scream follows, leaving him broken, on his knees, crying. With a limp I reach him and embrace him tightly.

  “No! No! No! No!” he repeats while I swaddle him in my arms.

  “I would have forgiven him…Jack said it was an accident…Jack said…” he sobs.

  “Shhh….”

  “Without him…”

  “I’m so sorry, baby.”

  “I can’t… I just can’t…”

  “Yes, you can. And you did, all these years.”

  He shakes his head, tears flowing like a river from his eyes.

  “I need you, Alexander. Your son needs you. We’re going to be a family soon, and every family needs a protector, and a father. Listen to me! You are our protector. We need you.”

  Coming back to the moment, here, with me, he gives me a despondent look, his eyes red, hopeless. The man I came to love is broken, lost, but I’ve fallen for him so deeply, I know exactly where to find him in his darkness. It’s where I was before.

  “Give me your hands.” I reach out, take his hands and place them on my chest.

  “Remember?” I whisper. “Feel it.... We are one now, Alexander. I am you. Each beat is yours to take, so take it. I don’t want my heart to beat if it’s without you.”

  He smiles bitterly; those are the same words he said to me when I was hurting.

  “He got what he deserved!” We hear Madison’s voice yelling from behind the elevators. “He was a lousy father!”

  “Don’t listen to her.”

  Next thing we hear is a gunfight coming from near the elevators, where she is. Alexander instinctively ducks and covers me with his body. He still has tears in his eyes, but I know he’ll never stop protecting me.

  “Alexander? Are you here?” we hear Christian’s voice.

  “On the platform!” I shout.

  “Stay, there! And stay low. I have unfinished business with Miss Cole over here!”

  More bullets are fired while eight or more uniformed people arrive on the platform. She’s firing her gun and, after she’s fired her last bullet, she throws it away, at them, crying out in pain. She’s wounded. Christian confirms it when we hear him calling for ambulance on his walkie talkie.

  “We got her! We got Madison!”

  Alexander leans his forehead on my shoulder, exhaling.

  “It’s over,” he whispers. “It’s all over.”

  CHAPTER 8

  It’s hard to believe it’s been six weeks since I was kidnapped. Six weeks since I was held at gun point, tied, shot at and, the worst of all, watched the father of my love die.

  But the way it happened? How he died? A coward would have had a more dignifying death!

  Even now when I think about it my teeth clench. Why the fuck did he blame his own son for the death of his wife?

  Madison admitted to everything, including murdering Sophie. There are enough charges against her to hold her for first degree murder and I’m glad she’ll be out of our lives for good.

  But of course, Alexander had to go to the hearing. He had to hear everything back in detail, just to be sure.

  She said her plan was to lure all of us to the top floor and kill us. She followed his father and, seeing that he was there on his own, a “better idea came to her mind”, as she said. She left a message for us with the hostess and went up to the platform in search of him. When she found him by the ledge, she didn’t struggle at all. Apparently, he didn’t have any objections to being tied. Even she said he was there to die. So when we arrived and Alexander started throwing punches at him, she had to postpone her plan for the sake of her entertainment. And that was her only mistake, she said. Just as she finished with her confession, she looked at Alexander, and out of the blue she started to cry.

  “Everything I did, everything, is because I loved you. You and I were meant to be together. Why couldn’t you forget about Sophie?”

  He regarded her coldly while gripping my hand. What happened to Sophie still affects him. He knew it was his fault. His father’s fault if you ask me. But I know he never wished not to have met her. Without Sophie, he wouldn’t have had Maximillian. And, in a way, Max saved him. He gave him a reason to live.

  “Do you think I would have left Max alive if I was really after that chip? Max was a secret I never told anyone. You know that!”

  “A ruse to keep Mr. Reeves trusting you. That’s what it was to you,” Alexander’s solicitor interjected.

  “That’s not true!” she screamed.

  Alexander moved slightly but I held him still. My hand was now clutching his, reassuring him with my grip.

  “Counselor, please rein in your client,” the solicitors started their well-known battle of words.

  “Miss Cole, please calm down. You may be held in contempt of court.”

  “I don’t fucking care anymore. Alexander do you hear me, I did everything because I loved you. You!”

  “Miss Cole, this is your second warning!”

  “Oh, fuck you, old man!”

  And that was it. Nobody can talk to a high court judge like that and get away with it. Immediately the guards came and took her away. That’s the last we saw of Madison Cole. Later we heard she’d be extradited to the States where she’ll stand trial for espionage, murder, and many other things.

  Thomas’s trial came and went too. As Alexander promised, Thomas was extradited to the States, to the Martinez Detention Facility in San Francisco. The prosecutor mentioned a borderline personality disorder, a personality disorder marked by a pervasive instability of mood, self-image, and interpersonal relationships, with fears of abandonment, chronic feelings of emptiness, threats, anger, and self-damaging behavior. Of course, he didn’t pass his medical test. Because of that his sentence was not as severe but it still held the weight of the deed he did.

  When the judge gave out the verdict, ten
years in jail under medical care because of his condition, he dropped down on his chair, his shoulders slanted. As the words kept coming, with the last line being “extradited to San Francisco” he broke down and started to cry.

  I had to see him after the trial. I had to tell him my plans. Our plans. That we’re going back to the States by Christmas.

  Thomas immediately calmed down, smiled even. He said he’s already been put on medication and hoping to be at his best behavior. He begged me to let him see his children. Of course I would. He’s their father.

  ~

  Three days before Christmas,

  at Alexander’s house in Barnes, London

  ~

  “Hey, where have you been? And why the tears?” Alexander greets me by the door of his office and wipes the tears off my face gently. “You know we’ll visit England as often as you want, right?”

  “Yes I do,” I sniffle. “I was with Mrs. Saunders just now, saying goodbye.”

  “How did she take it?”

  “Good. Better than I thought. In fact, I was the one crying my eyes out. She was like my mother over here, you know that.”

  “Did you ask her to visit us in San Francisco?”

  “I didn’t have to. She said since we won’t be here for Christmas she and Albert will spend New Year’s with us.”

  “They will? That’s great!”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “A full house for Christmas. Family. Friends,” he says quietly while glancing through the window, in the distance. “Is there anything better?”

  “No.” I wrap my arm around his waist and nestle in his embrace, under his arm, both of us looking out to the river. I know what’s on his mind.

  After his father’s death, his brother and sister were notified and, on their insistence, they came to London. They knew they’d find him here. Jasmine and Luke Reeves. Each time I think of the moment they met I cry. I sniffle and wipe my eyes. I won’t now! Their final thread of hope in finding their lost brother proved successful. And when they said they were looking for him for years, I broke down first. I sniffle yet again. He knows why.