Family Portrait (Kingsley Family Trilogy Book 1)

by Rebecca Paulinyi

  “You haven’t told me what I should be denying.” Cool, calm, and equally devoid of emotion, Imogen’s reply did not sooth his anger..

  “Did you kill our father?”

  His blunt question was answered by an even blunter response: “Yes.” Jack’s eyes widened with shock, as did Ella’s.

  “No, she didn’t,” Zach contradicted, and three heads flicked round to stare at him. Now Imogen’s eyes were wide with shock, too.

  “He had a heart-attack. Imogen can’t be blamed for that. Your mother’s death, on the other hand – your father can be blamed for that. So can you.”

  “I think maybe we should step outside, Zach.” The sudden aggression filling the room snapped Ella out of her shock, as she realised that a fight seemed imminent. The words exchanged between the two were doing nothing to diffuse the anger. “It seems you have an opinion on things that are none of your business.”

  “Anything to do with the girl I love is my business,” Zach said quickly, and at this point, Ella jumped in. She didn’t want to see this end up as a fight; she wanted Jack out of her house.

  “I think you should leave, Jack, before anything else gets said that you might regret.” Her voice rang with an authority that Imogen hadn’t heard before. Jack ignored it.

  “I won’t regret anything I say to this murdering bitch,” he said, any remnants of the civil façade disappearing completely now. “I want to know why and how you killed him, Imogen, I swear to God if you don’t tell me-” He took another step forward. That was the final mistake he would make inside the Kingsley household.

  “Get away from her,” Zach almost spat at Jack, the venom in his voice and the look on his face enough to make Imogen understand, for the first time, the reasoning behind people being scared of him.

  Zach snapped, grabbing Jack roughly by the arm, and dragging him from the house. They were a similar height, but Zach won in strength, and his anger aided him: it had built up, from the anger he felt towards his parents that morning to the anger he felt at this man who had left his little sister and mother in the hands of a brutal man. He threw it all into his efforts to lead Jack away. It was almost easy, despite Jack’s attempts at escaping his grip.

  The string of profanities from his mouth were ignored by Zach; Ella looked worriedly up the stairs, and hoped that the girls were still preoccupied with the film they were watching in her bedroom – and that they hadn’t heard the commotion. Her hopes were in vain.

  “Immy?” Abby’s voice broke the shouting and the screaming, as all four heads turned in the direction of the little blonde girl, who looked confused at the sight of Zach hauling Jack from the house.

  “Go back at watch the film, Abigail, we’ll be up in a minute,” Ella called, but Abby wasn’t appeased. Jack looked up at her with intense curiosity, forgetting for a moment that Zach’s arms were roughly gripping his.

  “Abby, please do as Ella says. Everything’s okay, I’ll be up in a minute sweetheart.” It wasn’t hard to tell how important Abby was to Imogen: she used all her energy to try and pretend everything was all right.

  “So that’s our sister?” Jack asked, and Imogen shook her head, responding softly and yet intrepidly.

  “No. That’s my sister; you lost the right to call her that when you walked out.” Distracted, it was even easier for Zach to remove Jack from the house; Imogen followed, while Ella went to settle Abby, satisfied that Zach could take care of Imogen for a few moments.

  Once they were outside, Zach threw Jack roughly away from him. But Imogen saw the look in both their eyes, as did Evangeline, who had appeared across the street, obviously looking for her brother. Two brothers and two sisters stood in the street, as Jack threw another insult to fuel the fire of anger in the atmosphere.

  “She destroys everything she touches. You want to watch out for my sister.” That was it: Zach was not going to take that sort of comment about his girlfriend, especially not from a low life like Jack.

  It was going to turn into a fight – that Imogen was sure about. She knew Zach, she knew Jack, and she knew it was inevitable. She also knew where her loyalties were, and that was with Zach. Blood may have been thicker than water, but Jack had hurt her too badly to ever be forgiven, whereas the way she felt for Zach was still strong. If – when – this came to a fight, she’d be on Zach’s side. But her knowledge didn’t stop her from trying to avoid a fight altogether.

  “Stop this!” she screamed, her voice edging on hysterical. As much as she’d tried to keep calm, the hysteria began to bubble over: she didn’t want to see Zach hurt, and so put herself between the two men.

  “Get out of the way, Imogen.” Eve was being sensible – she knew it was going to end with some punches being thrown, and didn’t seem overly worried about her brother – but knew it wasn’t a good idea for Imogen to be in the middle. Would Jack be too bothered if a punch made contact with her, rather than Zach? She wasn’t sure. Zach looked as though he agreed with Eve: his hand was trying to simultaneously push her out of the way and shield her, as Jack moved closer, anger distorting his features, ready to strike.

  There was no fear in Zach’s eyes – only adrenaline, and his own hint of anger. “It’s not like your father deserved to live, anyway.”

  “What did you say?” Jack asked, and Imogen unconsciously let a small moan escape from her lips. She was frozen in place now, between the two men, and she didn’t fight it when Eve grabbed her wrist roughly and dragged her out of the way. This day had gone from being perfect, to bad, to the worst hell she could imagine.

  “He’s not worth it Zach,” Eve said before Zach could respond, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  “I said,” Zach began, menace filtering through his tone, “that he deserved to die. After what he put your mother, Imogen and Abby through-” he recognised the look of shock in his face, and couldn’t help but smirk humourlessly, “-yes, I know the whole story. Did you not think she’d tell me? I know what she’s been through, better than you do. And I know exactly how he died, and I’m saying he deserved it. And if you don’t get out of this garden now, you’ll be going to the same place he is.”

  If Jack had been at all uncertain about how much Zach knew, it was clarified now: he knew everything. More than Jack knew, possibly. Had Imogen been thinking straight, she would possibly have been a little frightened at the way Zach acted then; his cool, collected exterior as he threatened death to her flesh and blood. But she couldn’t be rational right then – and her fears were not for Jack.

  Eve watched them with apprehension twisting her stomach. She’d seen Zach fighting before, and she wasn’t overly concerned for him: he was strong, and a good fighter – he’d always won before, and he had no reason to start losing now. It wasn’t that Jack wasn’t well-built, but Eve had confidence in Zach. Her concern was more for herself – and nothing to do with this fight.

  This fight made her uneasy because it was so easily something she might have to face, in the near future. She didn’t know the full story, didn’t have a clue what was going on right now, between Imogen, her brother, and her boyfriend, and she wasn’t sure how deep their sibling connection ran.

  No, her mind was thinking about how she would feel in Imogen’s shoes, watching her brother and boyfriend fight. When it could so easily come to that between Zach and Daryl, she needed to know whose side she would be on. Imogen’s stance was clear – Zach meant more to her than Jack. But for Eve, it was more complicated: she loved them both. Equally. She couldn’t bear to see Zach hurt…but the same could be said about Daryl.

  Her thoughts were so chaotic, she didn’t even notice the punch being thrown that caused the sound of cartilage breaking to permeate the air, and in turn permeate her thoughts. Imogen blocked her sight, having pulled out of her grasp as soon as Eve had stopped paying attention, and so she couldn’t see who’d punched, and who’d been punched. But Imogen had seen…

  Zach had taunted, and Jack had got increasingly annoyed, angry, defending his – their
– father. Imogen had agreed with every word that Zach had said, but wished he wouldn’t say it, for this could only end one way.

  And then it happened: Jack’s arm pulled back, and his fist sprang forward, headed for Zach’s nose. She wanted to turn her head, didn’t want to see the blood that would undoubtedly be appearing, or see the fight escalate – if she knew Zach, and she was pretty sure she did, he’d be sure to retaliate.

  Then fist and nose met – but it was Zach’s fist, and Jack’s nose. The sickening crack sounded; the blood stained Jack’s white shirt and Zach’s knuckles, yet Imogen couldn’t look away. Zach had been too fast for Jack – a clever manoeuvre had blocked Jack’s punch, and before he’d even seen it coming, Zach was responding to the attempted punch. And his was certainly more successful.

  Two sisters gasped. Two brothers fought. Two mothers exited their homes and looked on in horror, as the two boys who were clearly no strangers to fighting continued to pummel, dodge and taunt one another.

  With the noise of their shouts, and Imogen and Eve’s worried calls, no-one heard Cecilia muttering to herself, before turning her back on the fight and walking back to the house, intent on phoning the police.

  “I told you no good would come from hanging around with Kingsley scum.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Evangeline managed to stop her mother from ringing the police: luckily neither she nor Eve’s father wanted the family to gain a bad reputation, or make a scene. Evangeline was convinced that calling the police was the wrong thing to do; she had a feeling that Jack was the kind of person who would change everything around to work in his favour – and she would not see her brother in a police cell.

  Luckily, or unluckily, depending on who was looking at it, the fight was broken up after just a few minutes. Danny somehow arrived on the scene, and pulled Jack from Zach; Braden, planning on getting to know his girlfriend’s family properly, ended up holding a blood-stained Zach back from pummelling Jack into the ground. Curtains twitched as neighbours glanced out to investigate the commotion. Mrs Parr, of Willow-Tree Mansion, telephoned Paige Manor in the hope of discussing the fight, and was in luck when Mrs Farley, who had an even better view of the fight, answered.

  “Did you see that punch he just threw? He must have broken his nose, I’m sure of it,” Mrs Parr said, vicarious excitement clear in her voice; Mrs Farley confirmed her suspicions.

  “It looks like it from here: all bent out of shape. That Monroe boy’s got a good punch, I’ll give him that. I wonder what it’s all about?”

  “Looks like it’s something to do with that new girl they’ve got living there. Love triangle, maybe?”

  “Maybe. That other boy – or man, should I say, he looks older than the rest of them – looks positively murderous.” They both sighed when the fight was broken up: it was the most exciting thing to happen in the street for a long time. Had they been able to hear what was being said, they might have been even more interested: threats, accusations and shouts flooded the air.

  “If you think I’m just going to accept that you murdered him Imogen, you’re wrong,” Jack shouted, spitting blood on the floor and trying to fight against Danny’s grip, without much success. “You can’t just set up a new, nice little life here with your boyfriend and your new mummy and pretend like nothing ever happened. You killed our father, Imogen. You killed him, and thanks to you we’re orphans. I’m not going to let you just start again, with a clean slate. You can trust me on that one.”

  “Trust you? When have I ever been able to trust you?” Imogen muttered back, her voicing shaking ever-so-slightly, as she held Zach’s hand gently, examining a finger which looked like it might be broken.

  Overall, Jack had definitely come off worse: in addition to a broken nose, he was bleeding at the mouth, probably cut by his own teeth when Zach punched him.

  Imogen felt no pity. He deserved it.

  “Fleur will agree with me,” he warned her, and Imogen froze for a moment. He was doing what he always did: twisting things, trying to make Imogen feel guilty for something she refused to feel guilty for.

  They had left her! She tried to remind herself of this fact repeatedly: she was not in the wrong. She would not give him any power over her again.

  “I have a new life, and you’re not a part of it. I don’t care what either of you think of me, I don’t want you around.” Imogen was relieved that she managed to speak without her voice shaking, without betraying the emotions she was feeling. Her past could go to hell; she had to focus on the future.

  “I’ll get in touch with the police, tell them you murdered him. If this is the way you act when I turn up, you’re obviously feeling guilty,” Jack said, clutching at straws now. He’d come here wanting answers, and wanting to shut Fleur up: she was always going on about how they shouldn’t have left Imogen.

  He’d come expecting the meek little girl who would bow down to him, who would hero-worship him, and had found a young woman who wanted nothing to do with him. Anger ran through his veins as he grasped that she really was responsible for the death of the father he had loved. And now, all he wanted was revenge: revenge for making him feel so humiliated, being beaten up by a seventeen-year-old; revenge for her not respecting him in the slightest; revenge for his father’s death.

  “They cleared me of it a long time ago, Jack,” Imogen said, surprisingly calm, although the whole situation was anything but. She knew she couldn’t be prosecuted for her father’s death: they knew everything, had seen the phone in the sink, and had ruled that he had died because of a heart-attack. His psycho daughter putting the phone in the sink hadn’t actually killed him – it just meant she’d had to be put in for a hell of a lot of counselling.

  “Go home before one of this lot rings the police.” Her voice was no longer angry, or scared; it was tired. She was tired of the fear she’d had of her brother for so longer, tired of stressing and worrying. She had new fears now. The fear that this invasion from her old life might ruin her new life; that Abby might be affected by it all; that Ella would want nothing to do with her after the explanations that would clearly be necessary after the fight.

  Without another word, Jack turned, pulling roughly away from Danny, who let him go once he realised he was not going to attack anyone else. They watched as he walked away, and Imogen wondered if it would be the last time she saw him.

  ‘Probably not,’ she told herself; now she just had to cope with the consequences of this visit. There was a little spark of happiness within her, however: he no longer seemed to have the mental control over her that he had once had. Physically he was clearly stronger, but he no longer had all the power. She had made it through his return – so far, at least.

  “Zachary? You all right?” Eve’s voice was tentative across the bloody scene. Imogen was surprised: she hadn’t seen her re-exiting from the Monroes’ Manor. Zach nodded, and wiped Jack’s blood from his hand onto his trousers. Braden, realising he was still holding on to the teen, let go.

  “Right. Well. Why don’t we all go inside, and sort this out, okay?” Ella began to organise everyone, and Imogen followed her numbly inside. She didn’t sound angry, or disgusted, which was a good thing. Right?

  Ella led the way, followed by Braden; next was Eve, who had entered without any real invite, but who wanted to know what was going on; finally, Imogen was pulled gently into the doorway by Zach’s good hand, and they all sat down in the living room.

  No-one spoke for a minute.

  Then, suddenly, everyone spoke at once.

  “What did he mean by-”

  “Are you all right-”

  “How did he-”

  Imogen didn’t speak. She allowed the unfinished questions to buzz around the room answerless, as her brain retreated further and further away from the noise. A soft exchange between Zach and Ella broke her reverie.

  “Thank-you, Zach. I wish it hadn’t become a fight, but there clearly was no other way. Thank-you for looking after her,” Ella said, in
a low voice that was clearly meant for only Zach, but could be heard by all in the silenced room. Eve and Braden’s eyes were on Imogen; she ignored them, and continued to listen.

  Zach looked a little embarrassed by her gratitude. “Anyone would have done the same,” he muttered, an arm round Imogen as though to shield her from the world.

  “We’d better be getting back, Zach,” Eve said, wondering how long it would be before their parents appeared and caused a scene. She wanted to comfort her friend, wanted to know what was going on – but her parents turning up now would just make everything worse for all of them.

  “I’m not going back there, not tonight,” Zach said, and Imogen suddenly remembered what had happened that morning: it seemed so much longer ago than a few hours. She wondered what had been said by his parents after she’d left; she realised she probably didn’t want to know.