by Bea Paige
“Ready?” he asks.
“I’m ready.”
Together we step out of the glass cage and into the outhouse beyond, noticing too late as Ms Hadley appears out of the shadows and aims a gun at my chest.
Chapter 34
Erik – Present Day
The sound of a gun firing rattles the air just a second before Rose hits the ground, blood seeping out of a wound in her left shoulder. Her scream pierces my soul and drive me into action. God knows I want to go to her, but in the fraction of a second it takes me to understand what’s happened, I know that if Rose is to survive, I must disarm the person intent on killing her. I react, running towards the woman who has just tried and failed to kill Rose. She’s not going to get another chance to fire that gun. But if she somehow manages to, I’m prepared to take a bullet for Rose, for my brothers. I will die for them if I have too.
The red mist rolls in as I run towards this woman I no longer recognise. Instead of shrouding her, it reveals her for what she truly is; an envious, controlling woman intent on murdering the one person with the power to free me from her chains once and for all.
Rose.
Rose has set me free and my mother intends to kill her for it.
A roar rips from my mouth as I knock the gun out of her hand with such force she falls to the ground in a heap. I kick the gun away, it skids across the floor lost beneath an old piece of furniture pushed up against the wall.
Knowing that the immediate danger is gone, I allow myself to glance at Rose, taking in the carnage with a quick assessing eye. I know in an instant that whilst injured, Rose isn’t going to die. She’ll survive this. But my mother, she won’t be so fucking lucky.
“Put pressure on the wound, use your top to stem the flow of blood,” I bark out.
Anton nods, his eyes wide with fear and shock but with an undercurrent of rage. I feel the same rage too, it ripples in the air around us, violent and billowing.
“Call a damn ambulance, and the fucking police whilst you’re at it,” I add.
Ripping off his t-shirt, Anton presses it against the wound with one hand whilst yanking his mobile phone out of his pocket with the other. He hands it to Ivan as Rose’s scream carves open my fucking chest reminding me that life is precious, breakable, fragile.
As if I need a reminder of that.
I know how damn precious life is, how easily broken we all are. How suddenly things can change by making the wrong choice, trusting the wrong damn people.
Well, no more. From this day forward I mean to change that.
I lock eyes with Rose, hers are filled with unbearable pain as she battles to stay conscious.
“You’re going to be okay, trust me,” I reassure her, before her eyes flutter shut and she passes out. Ivan swears loudly, still on the phone to the ambulance service. He’s ghostly pale, a shadow passing over his features as he looks at another woman he loves surrounded by a pool of blood. He lost Svetlana; he will not lose Rose.
I won’t fucking allow it.
A strange sense of calm settles over me as I twist on my feet and face my mother. She must see something in my eyes that scares her because she shuffles across the floor on her arse, backing away from me quickly. Dust motes lift up in the air in her haste, shards of daylight highlighting their path and the hate etched in every line of her skin.
“I did it for you, Erik. I did it for all of you, out of love,” she whimpers, holding her hands up as though I mean to strike her.
“Don’t fucking tell me this is about love,” I spit, rage a welcome emotion. I feed off it, not allowing any pity or empathy for a woman who only means to destroy Rose, destroy me, destroy us. Rose has given me something no one else can, hope. She threw the first stone and she helped me to throw the next. Rose has set me free, and my mother means to punish her for it, punish me for it. That isn’t love.
Inside that glass room, I was a prisoner at the mercy of a woman who’s always tried to control me, who never loved me like a mother should, but treated me like a possession. Joining the army had taken me out of her control but returning broken and shattered had put the power firmly back with her. She fucking loved it. I see that now with a crystal kind of clarity.
I know that now. How have I been so goddamn blind?
“I only wanted to scare her. I didn’t mean to pull the trigger,” Mother lies, coming to a halt as her back slams against the brick wall. There’s nowhere else for her to go. Nowhere to hide.
“Don’t bullshit me. You meant to kill Rose, why? To take back some control because you were jealous?”
“Because I love you! Because she isn’t good enough for you! Because you’re my son! You’re MINE!” she screams, a wild craziness in her eyes. She’s fucking unhinged and a small part of me, despite the anger, the rage and disappointment, breaks for her.
“I’m not yours…” I heave out a sigh.
“You’re my boy, my son. I brought you up. I cared for you. Every single day I worked hard to keep a roof over our heads, to give you opportunities you would never have had without me and the generosity of Viktor. But you threw it all away on a girl who was fucking other men, just like her,” she spits, pointing a bony finger at Rose.
“Threw what away? You mean Emmie?”
“Yes, that whore who took your foolish, childish heart and trampled on it. She forced you away from me and into the army, into the arms of another woman who hurt you, who took away my gifted boy. Rose is just like them, she’s a harlot, taking you away from me, taking all of you away from me.”
“You’re so wrong. Rose has fought to bring me out of this shit existence I’ve pretended is living. You should be thanking her because after five long years, I’ve finally picked up the violin and played without wanting to murder anyone. She’s brought me back to fucking life.”
“No, all she’s done is controlled you by your dicks. Why are you all so blind? Blinded by beauty, and a pretty little cunt!” she spits, not even trying to hide her hate now.
“Don’t fucking talk about Rose like that,” Ivan snarls from behind me.
He stands, stepping forward, and I grasp him by the wrist. There’s blood on his hands and a silent anger that seeps from every single pore. If Mother isn’t afraid of my anger, then she should be afraid of Ivan’s. Very afraid.
“This is not your fight, Ivan,” I warn, not because Mother doesn’t deserve every last shred of his rage, but because I want to be the person to dish it out.
“This is absolutely my fucking fight. She hurts Rose, she hurts us all.”
He’s right, of course he is. Glancing over my shoulder I look at Rose and Anton. He’s leaning over her, murmuring something. She nods, awake once more. Her face is pale, her teeth chattering in shock.
But alive. She’s alive and that’s all that matters right now. In the distance I can hear the welcome sirens of the emergency services.
“Take Rose to the house. Wait for the ambulance and police there. In the kitchen is a First Aid kit. Use the bandages to wrap her up. Keep pressure on the wound, stem the flow of blood. That wound won’t kill her, but blood loss might. Can you do that, Anton?”
“Rose isn’t going to die. Not on my fucking watch,” he responds, gritting his teeth as he picks her up. She cries out but presses her lips shut against the pain. I can see she’s struggling to stay alert this time as she focuses on me. Her mouth pops open in a grimace before she speaks.
“There will be no more blood on your hands, Erik. Let the police deal with her, don’t exchange a prison made of glass walls with one made of metal bars… Promise me,” she adds, pleading with me.
She knows what I’m capable of and she’s trying to protect me from myself. Even like this, injured and in pain, she’s thinking of everyone else. Despite the red mist that still clings to my vision, despite my very real need to murder my own mother, I nod my head, making Rose a promise I intend to keep.
“I promise,” I respond, running the back of my knuckles over her cheek.
She gives me a smile that turns into another grimace as Anton adjusts her in his arms. That movement alone making her pass out for the second time.
“Get her inside,” I bark.
Anton doesn’t hesitate. I watch them leave before I return my attention back to my mother. There are a few things I need to say before the police turn up because after they cart her off, I have no intention of ever laying eyes on her again.
“Ivan, I need a second with Mother… Ms Hadley,” I correct myself. She’s no longer my mother, she lost that right the second she pulled the trigger and tried to kill someone I care about. Ivan steps back, giving us some space.
“Mother,” she murmurs.
“Not any fucking more,” I bite out. Her shoulders slump, but I barricade my heart against her. “From this moment on you mean nothing to me. Nothing. Do you understand?”
“Erik, please,” she begs, crawling towards me.
“No! We’re done,” I snap, stepping backwards. “The only reason you’re still breathing is because of Rose. You remain alive because of her generosity, her kindness, but let me make myself perfectly clear; I’m cutting you out of my life because of me. Have a fucking pleasant stay in prison, Ma,” I snarl.
“You can’t do that. You can’t cut me out like that, not after everything I’ve done for you!”
I bark out a laugh, the sound bitter, hollow. “What you did for me?”
“You alright, brother?” Ivan asks, stepping forward. He flashes a dark gaze at Ms Hadley. She winces, backing away.
“I will be as soon as she’s in prison and Rose is fixed,” I respond.
I move to walk away, not wanting to be on the same island as her, let alone the same fucking room. But she launches for me, grabbing the material of my tracksuit bottoms.
“Get your hands off me,” I growl as red mist feathers my vision once more. “How fucking dare you touch me!”
“I saved you, you know. She was never going to take care of you, Erik. I made everything better,” she wheedles, her voice twisting into that of an old crone. I can almost see her holding the poisoned apple; she’s the epitome of evil.
“Rose has shown me more kindness, empathy and care this past week than you have my whole damn life.”
“Not Rose, not her,” she spits, then covers her mouth with a shaking hand. She lets go of my trousers and scuttles backwards as I stalk towards her.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
She shakes her head, folding into herself. My heart starts to hammer as the red mist climbs across my vision. I’m vaguely aware of Ivan pulling on my shoulder as I crouch down in front of her, but I shake him off.
“Tell me what the fuck you’re talking about,” I demand, my hand grasping her jaw. It feels papery and thin beneath my hand.
“From Isabelle… I saved you from her.”
“Who. Is. Isabelle?” The words stab, as deadly and sharp as a knife.
“My best friend, your birth mother,” she responds, a look of deep sadness in her eyes. I almost feel sorry for her. Almost.
“What the fuck are you talking about? I was found on the steps of a hospital…”
“No, you weren’t. Isabelle died two weeks after you were born. She went for a swim and came back three days later, washed up on the shore, bloated and unrecognisable. Her lungs were filled with seawater, leaving you an orphan with no other family but me.”
Letting go of her jaw, I stand, stumbling backwards, my gaze flicking up to the rafters high above us. “You fucking bitch,” I manage to bite out.
“Bitch?! The only person who’s ever looked out for you is me. Not Isabelle, not Emmie, not Rose, but me! I’m the one who loves you!”
“What bullshit is this? You’re fucking lying to me…!”
“No, I’m not. This is the truth. Isabelle got herself pregnant by some faceless man on the mainland. I helped her through her pregnancy, gave her a home in the cottage on this island. But she abandoned you! Who goes swimming in the middle of winter during a storm? It wouldn’t surprise me if she did it on purpose, that she wanted to drown.
“Shut up!” I shout.
“With the help of a few islanders, I made you my own. I saved you from a life in care. I SAVED you.”
“What kind of fucked up shit is this?” Ivan shouts.
“I was afraid social services would take you away. I wasn’t a relative of Isabelle’s, so they lied for me, said you were my own and not hers. She wasn’t strong enough to love you. I was. I am.”
“You fucking lied to me!” I shout, bitterness seeping from every pore.
“Isabelle might’ve given birth to you, but she didn’t raise you. I did. You’re MY SON! I saved you!” she shouts, spittle flying out from her mouth in her rage.
“You kept her existence from me. You stopped me from knowing where I came from, who my mother was. You had the power to give me that, but you chose to lie to me. You’re no different from the rest of the women who’ve claimed to love me. You’ve all lied to me, but you, you’ve lied to me my whole damn life.”
I swoop downwards, grabbing her by the arm and chuck her inside the glass cage that she has only ever encouraged me to remain in.
“Do not let her leave,” I snap at Ivan, then turn on my heel and run out of the outhouse towards Rose and the only future that’s worth having.
Chapter 35
When I enter the farmhouse, Rose is lying on the couch in the front room, her head propped up on a pillow, covered in a blanket. Her shoulder is wrapped up tightly, but blood still seeps through the bandage and the white cotton of Anton’s t-shirt beneath it. Thankfully, it’s more of a slow bleed than the rushing of blood that poured from her in the outhouse. He’s done a good job stemming the flow, just like I asked him.
Now Anton’s pacing up and down, alternating between checking Rose is still breathing to looking out of the window for the ambulance. His anxiety is like a living breathing being and combined with mine is not exactly helpful to Rose. We both need to calm the fuck down.
“Where the hell are they?” Anton snaps, as if I have a direct line to the goddamn paramedics.
“They’ll be here soon. She’ll be okay,” I respond, two statements I’ve said a dozen times between leaving the outhouse and entering this room.
Anton nods tightly, he wants to believe me, but I’m not a doctor and he thinks I’m talking shit, so I don’t scare Rose. I might not be a doctor, but I’ve seen plenty of gunshot wounds in my time and I know the ones that kill instantly, the ones where you have a finite amount of time to get help before death comes knocking and the ones you survive.
This is the latter, and I couldn’t be more grateful. A few inches down and Rose would have been ripped from us. My still simmering rage boils at the thought. I can’t even think about Ms Hadley. I fucking can’t.
“Rose?” I say tentatively, moving towards her.
She watches, pale, in shock, but alive. That’s the only part that matters right now. Everything else we can fix later.
“Where’s Ivan?” she asks, noticing that he doesn’t follow me inside.
“Waiting to speak with the police. He’s watching over Ms Hadley until they get here,” I say, reassuring Rose that Ms Hadley won’t get a chance to hurt her again. Not in this lifetime.
She nods tightly, holding her hand out to me, wincing even when she lifts her unaffected arm. I take her proffered hand in mine. We’re past the stage of her needing my permission, I’m past the stage of being fucking terrified of her touch. I can and will accept her touch every fucking day for the rest of my life.
“Hey, keep still. We don’t know the full damage just yet,” I reprimand her gently, squeezing her hand in mine. I’m reminded of how these same hands had bruised her skin, marked her, had almost throttled her. I move to pull away, but it’s her turn to hold on tight.
“I have no regrets,” she says, knowing exactly what I’m thinking.
Relief floods through me. One day when she’s healed, we can
explore the kind of relationship that both of us need, but that time isn’t yet. One step at a time. “If I could change what she did,” I spit, not able to speak her name, “If I could’ve taken that bullet, I would’ve… in a fucking heartbeat.”
“I know that, Erik. I know.”
“This isn’t on you. Ms Hadley is to blame. As much as I don’t particularly like being shot,” she smiles ruefully, then winces, “I’m glad she’s shown you all her true colours. Her shade of green is not the pretty kind. Jealousy is a dangerous emotion.”
“Don’t I know it,” I respond.
“None of us are innocent, Erik. Not me, Ivan or Anton. It’s why we fit. Our pasts are bloodied by mistakes, but maybe our futures can be different…” her voice trails off and I’m not sure whether this time it’s because she’s in so much pain or because she’s still not quite ready to speak the truth of her heart. Time is what we need.
“We’ll figure it out, together. All of us,” I reassure her. It’s not an empty promise. This is a promise I intend on keeping. When I look over at Anton, his expression tells me the same thing. I already know Ivan will do anything for her.
Rose presses her eyes shut and this time her silence is very much to do with the pain lancing through her. She grits her jaw, a tiny nerve ticking behind her eyelid.
“Have you ever been shot?” Rose asks eventually. Her green eyes even more astonishing in this light as she regards me.
“No. I was fortunate in that respect.”
She grimaces. A sudden rush of pain dashing across her face. “Well, I’m here to tell you, it fucking hurts like hell.” Rose laughs, then cries out in pain. “Fuck,” she bites out.
I brush back a strand of bloody hair from her face. “I’m sorry, Rose. I’m so fucking sorry she hurt you.”
“You didn’t pull the trigger, Erik. You’re not to blame.”
Anton rushes past us both and yanks open the door, darting down the hallway. “Ambulance,” he shouts by way of explanation.
Half a minute later he returns with two paramedics carrying large bags filled with medical equipment. I move away, giving them room to deal with Rose. Behind them Ivan walks into the room with a police officer. They talk in low voices whilst Ivan watches distractedly as the paramedics deal with Rose. He glances at me, a whole host of emotions rattling across his face. He looks like he’s seen a ghost.