A Deep and Dark December

  She thought of Graham. This would break him. His father had been behind everything all along, every manipulation. The cruelty of his betrayal struck like a blow to the stomach. What would this do to Graham after what he’d been through with Patricia? She wished she could shield him from the pain of the truth.

  “Why?” Was all she could think to say.

  “You lied.”

  His tone bit into her. She shook her head. “Lied?”

  “You have a power. Or was that the real lie?”

  “I saw you.”

  “Saw.” Squeak. Squeak. “What exactly did you see?”

  “I saw you kill Deidre. I saw you make Greg shoot himself. I saw you force Keith to tie his own noose and…and hang himself.”

  “You didn’t see me. You saw what I can do.” He sucked in a breath. “You saw power.”

  Her head crowded with what he’d done, what he was willing to do, and how he tried to impress her with it. Her face flushed hot and her vision narrowed on him. “I saw cowardice!”

  “You want to see…exactly what I can do, little girl? I’m holding you on the edge.” He flicked a finger in her direction. Even that small movement seemed an effort for him. “One flick and you go.”

  Maybe if she pushed at him. “You got Deidre pregnant. Does your wife know about that?”

  “You don’t talk about my wife!” he wheezed and tipped to one side.

  She felt her right foot slide out an inch. Looking down, she watched as pebbles bounced and danced down the cliff face. She curled her toes, trying to grip the earth.

  “I’m sorry.” She hated the panic in her voice and tried to steady her breathing. “I won’t talk about her.”

  Turning away from the vast darkness below, she saw him brace against his cane, attempting to right himself. She waited, trying to mentally push back on the strange hold he had on her. She’d been so shocked to see him that her mind had opened all its doors to him. He’d slipped right in. And now that he was there, she was having a hard time driving him out.

  “You’re sick,” she tried. “You need a doctor.”

  He managed to correct himself, listing a little to the left. “Nothing a doctor can do.”

  “Your ability—”

  “Power.”

  “Power.” She hated that word. She hated him. “How does it work?” Maybe if she distracted him with flattery, she’d find a way to gain back some control.

  “I’m an Influencer…from a long line of Influencers.”

  “You influence what? People’s thoughts? Their actions?”

  “Both. We were crowd control. Mostly. Only…I found a way to enhance my God given power. Amplify it. Narrow it. Like a laser. All at will.”

  What he did was anything but godly. He enjoyed his power, actually liked hurting people. She could feel the sick glee radiating off him. Her stomach churned with the thought of all he’d done. But that pleasure came with a price.

  “It costs you to use it.”

  “Side effect of the medication,” he huffed. “It passes.”

  She thought of what Graham had told her about his father getting worse and worse. And how sick he’d become over the last few weeks. “Does it? Seems to me you’re getting worse.”

  He scowled at her. “You question me?”

  She felt her foot slide a little further over the edge. Half an inch, but enough that she couldn’t balance on both feet anymore. Pushing back at the searing panic, she swallowed hard and scrambled to get her emotions in check. She needed all of her mental strength to fight him off, to regain control of her own body from him.

  “No,” she answered an octave too high. “I’m just concerned for you. Graham’s been so worried.”

  “I warned him to stay away from you.” His chest heaved with each breath. “He wouldn’t listen. Whores. All of you. Tempting men…into evil.”

  He’d put her into the same category he’d put Deidre. When she’d flashed back to Deidre’s murder, he’d blamed Deidre for his fall from grace, for making him break his marriage vows with her. And he saw Erin as the whore who’d bring Graham down. She knew then he was going to kill her. Get rid of her as he’d gotten rid of Deidre. Redoubling her efforts to get free, she closed her eyes and pushed back against him. If…she…could…just…break…his…control…

  “I can feel you. You think you can resist me?” His laugh chopped at her, cutting into her concentration. “I’m too powerful now.”

  Everywhere she turned were invisible walls, trapping her in. She couldn’t find a weakness. All her efforts only seemed to strengthen his hold on her. The harder she fought back, the closer the walls moved in on her until she couldn’t even raise her arms. She was suffocating, her chest heaving as she fought for each breath. He struggled just as hard, his efforts to entrap her having the same effect on him.

  “You’re a coward,” she spat out. “You disgust me.”

  “My son will think…you killed yourself…couldn’t handle the whole town…hating you.”

  He smiled a sickly smile and she knew he’d done that too, turned the whole town against her. She never knew anyone could be so evil, so disgustingly power hungry.

  “He’ll know I didn’t.”

  “Won’t matter.”

  “He loves me.” It was the only weapon she had against him. “And I love him.”

  “Love.” He said the word as though it was excrement he’d scraped off his shoe. “You’re nothing…but a good time. He’ll come to see that.”

  “He’ll never forgive you.”

  “He’ll never know. But…if he should…he’ll one day thank me.”

  His words didn’t match his tone. She studied him. His face was paler now and he shook like an addict denied his fix. And then it hit her.

  “You’re afraid of me.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “Don’t be stupid.”

  “Oh, my god. You are. You’re afraid of me. That’s why you want to get rid of me. I saw you. I saw what you are.”

  “Do not use the Lord’s name in vain!”

  He pitched forward, clutching at his chest. At the same time she felt her foot slide out from under her and go over the edge. Her balance knocked off, she hit the ground hard. He wheezed and coughed, both hands gripping his chest.

  “I’m sorry!” She dug her fingers into the rocky soil, clawing for purchase. Her leg was a dead weight, pulling her down. “I won’t do it ever again. I promise. Please!”

  He rolled his head back and grinned at her, a sick twisted smile that made her weak with panic. He wouldn’t make it fast. He’d draw it out, make her beg and cry. She was already crying, already begging, hot tears dripping into the dark earth. She bowed her head and thought of Graham. He’d find her broken body on the jagged rocks below. He’d blame himself. She couldn’t do that to him, couldn’t let him carry around more guilt.

  “I love him,” she whispered into the dirt. “He loves me. I love him and he loves me.” She raised her head and looked right at Ham, daring him with her declaration. “I love him and he loves me.” As she said it, she sent out a call to Graham, pushed all her love for him out into the universe. “I love him and he loves me.” She repeated it over and over, growing louder and louder until her love for him became a thing she could feel all around her.

  Ham reared back against the bench seat. He stared at her in horror. She clawed her way toward him, defying him to stop her.

  “I love him. And he loves me. And there’s nothing you can do about it. You’re weak and pathetic. Look at you!” She gained her feet slowly, rising to stand. “You use your ability to hurt and kill and it’s killing you. It’s killing you.”

  “Shut up!” Spittle dotted his chin and his eyes narrowed into thin black slits. He heaved himself up from the bench with more energy than she thought he had left. He raised a crooked finger at her. “The only one dying tonight is you.”

  Graham stood on Erin’s doorstep, just stood there. He couldn’t move, couldn’t even raise his hand to kn
ock. She called to him, the sound carried to him on the night wind. He strained to listen, thinking at first he might be imagining it. Terror hit him like a gunshot to the chest. His knees buckled. Catching the door handle, he used it to keep upright.

  “Erin!”

  He could feel her, her shock, her anger, her fear. And then a wave of love washed over all of it, swelling until it filled him up. He pushed away from the door, suddenly freed, and climbed back into his car. He started the engine, not knowing which way to go. All he knew was that he had to get to her.

  He found himself taking the turns up to the bluffs a little too fast, and forced himself to slow even though everything in him screamed at him to hurry. He parked and climbed out of the car. He could see her now, lying in the dirt. A man stood over her. He couldn’t quite process what he was seeing.

  “Pop?”

  Ham turned toward him. One look and Graham knew his dad was in trouble. He looked like he was going to pass out any moment.

  “Pop!” He rushed toward his father, but Ham put up a hand.

  “Graham,” Erin gasped, looking up at him from his father’s feet. “Be careful.”

  Careful? “What in the hell is going on here?”

  “Graham—”

  “Shut up!” Ham shouted down at her.

  Erin flinched as though Ham had hit her. She turned toward Graham, her lips pressed hard together, her nostrils flaring. She glanced up sharply at Ham, then back at him. Graham shook his head, trying to get a grasp on what the hell was happening.

  “She’s no good for you, son.”

  “Erin, are you hurt?”

  Erin shook her head, her mouth a firm, flat line. She jerked her head toward his car. She wanted him to leave? What in the hell?

  “Somebody tell me what’s going on right now.”

  He glanced from Erin to his father and back again. Her eyes were wide with fear and something else, something shocking and seething. The truth. The realization broke hot over him like a scorching bath, leaving behind a bitter, unbelievable revelation.

  He swung his gaze back up to his father who was shaking as though weak from illness, but as he looked closer, he saw what had been there the whole time, and he knew.

  “It was you.”

  “Now that you’ve accepted your role…your heritage…you will be the true sheriff of this town.”

  “You killed them.” Even as he said the words, everything in him worked to reject them. He couldn’t believe his father capable. He wanted his father to deny it, to explain everything away, to point the finger elsewhere.

  “I did what was necessary,” Ham wheezed, the arm that gripped his cane shaking.

  What was necessary? As though killing was nothing more than a household chore to him. He looked at Ham, seeing him as if for the first time. A fissure broke open in his chest, dividing him into two parts. The part of him that still wanted to believe in his father and the part of him that knew him for the monster he was. A murderer.

  “You killed Deidre.” Jesus. “You got her pregnant and killed her. Then you killed Greg and made it look like he killed Deidre. And Keith…” A sick knot formed in his gut. “How could you?”

  “With true power comes responsibility. I’ll teach you as my father taught me. You’ll be the greatest Influencer yet.”

  Graham jerked back as his father’s words truly sank in. Power. Heritage. Influencer. Ham wanted his son to be like him, like his father and his father before him and so on, going back six generations. Murder and manipulation were in his blood, sewn into his genes.

  “Didn’t you ever wonder,” Ham asked, his tone conversational, “why your confession rate was the highest in the precinct? How you could talk anyone into anything? How if you really put your mind to it, you could have anything you wanted?”

  Ham looked down at Erin. “How you could get this one to drop her boyfriend and fall flat on her back for you?” Ham turned his gaze back to his son. “That’s your heritage, son. We’re Influencers. Protectors of this town.”

  Graham stumbled back a step, a guttural moan ripped from his chest. No! Everything in his life, everything he’d ever thought he’d worked for, every person he’d met, every job he had, every case he’d solved, every woman he’d ever taken to bed…had any of that been real? Had he earned even one success? Or had it all come from his ability to manipulate people to do what he wanted?

  “No,” Graham whispered. The enormity of everything in his life being stripped away from him brought him to his knees.

  And Erin too. Was what they’d shared even real? Had she confided in him because she’d trusted him or because he’d unknowingly compelled her to do it? Had she gone to bed with him because she wanted him or was it because he wanted her? Had he, in a sense, raped her?

  “No,” he moaned, dropping to all fours in the rocky soil. He couldn’t catch his breath. Blackness crowded his vision. He gripped the soil, the rocks biting into his flesh the only real things left for him.

  His father’s feet appeared in his hazed line of sight. “You’ll come to accept your power, develop it, and use it. I’ll teach you as my father taught me.”

  “I don’t want it!”

  “How could you not want your God given gift? How could you not grow it and use it as He intended?”

  “God given?” Graham staggered to his feet, a rising, churning tide of anger swelling within him. “What you did was not sanctioned by God or anyone else. You killed people. You killed your own child!”

  “Grown or not, you don’t get to talk to me like that.” Ham reached out to put a shaky hand on Graham’s shoulder. “Son—”

  Graham jerked away. “Don’t call me that. Don’t ever touch me again.”

  “You don’t mean that.” Ham took a wobbly step forward. “You’re in shock. I was just like you—”

  “You’re nothing like me.” He couldn’t believe this was the man who’d raised him. Who’d showed him how to shoot a gun, catch a pass, and build a fort. The man who’d taught him right from wrong, for fuck’s sake.

  He turned away from his father and caught sight of Erin still on the ground as though she was injured or couldn’t get up. His face burned with shame. He’d never be able to look her in the eye again, knowing he’d taken away her free will. He’d never be able to hold her and kiss her without wondering if she really welcomed his attentions. Wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, he swallowed back the vomit that climbed the back of his throat.

  He moved toward Erin and knelt down. He wanted to touch her, hold her, and tell her everything would be all right. But he no longer had the right. He balled his fists at his sides. “Are you okay?”

  Her lips were still pressed together as though glued shut. He realized that she’d hardly moved an inch since he’d arrived.

  He turned back to his father, pointing at Erin. “What have you done to her?”

  “Go home, son. Let me deal with this.”

  “Release her. Now!”

  “I’m not going to do that. Our legacy is a closely guarded secret. I can’t let her go. She’s your Eve. She’ll tempt you away from your true purpose, your calling.”

  Graham lunged at his father, grasping the man’s shirt in his fists. “Let her go or I swear to God—”

  “Do not use the Lord’s name in vain!” Ham gasped, his cheeks flamed red, his eyes bulging and red-rimmed.

  Graham shook him. “Let her go!”

  “No. Go home.”

  And then he knew. Ham was going to kill Erin. His skin was suddenly too tight to contain the rage that boiled and swelled within him. Before he realized what he meant to do, he’d pulled his gun and pointed it at Ham’s head. He pressed it against the man’s temple.

  “Let. Her. Go.”

  Ham’s eyes widened and he went a slack. “Son—”

  He twisted his fist, bunching Ham’s shirt tighter against his throat. “I told you not to call me that anymore,” he said, pushing the words through gritted teeth. “You’re nothing to
me.”

  “You…you don’t mean that. You’re just—”

  “Don’t tell me what I am! You don’t get to tell me anything ever again.” He brought Ham closer, raising him up by the shirt until Ham’s feet barely touched the ground. “Let her go. Now!”

  Erin gasped for breath behind him. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

  “You’re making…a mistake,” Ham panted. “She knows too much. She knows our secret.”

  He pressed the nozzle of the gun harder against Ham’s temple. “My only mistake was believing in you.”

  “Graham.” Erin’s voice was weak, but brought a flood of relief to him.

  She was all right.

  “I’m still your father,” Ham rasped.

  “You’re nothing but a lying, cheating murderer.”

  Erin struggled to her feet. With one hand pressed to her neck, she put a gentle hand on Graham’s shoulder. “Graham.”

  He flinched from the contact. He’d never really be sure if her touch was real, if anything between them was or would ever be real. Ham’s revelation had stripped him of everything. He’d never be able to do anything, get close to anyone without wondering if it was really his or not.

  “Go home, Erin.”

  “I can’t.”

  He couldn’t see her, but he knew she was crying. He fought the urge to pull her into his arms by twisting a little harder on Ham’s shirt. Ham’s cane clattered to the ground as he grabbed Graham’s wrist. Graham didn’t want Erin to see him like this. She must already think him a monster, wondering the same things he had about their relationship, doubting everything they’d shared.

  “I need him to…to release my dad and my aunt,” she said.

  “Do it,” he ordered Ham. “Now.”

  Ham gasped like a landed fish, his face mottled and strained. “No.”

  He yanked on Ham’s shirt. “I said, do it!”

  Ham glared at him for a moment and then sagged, his eyes rolling back into his head. Graham scrambled to catch him before they both went down, dropping his gun to catch the back of Ham’s head. He lowered Ham to the ground.