Forbidden Eyes: A Cane Novel 4

by Hart, Charlotte E

  “Stay still. What the fuck are you doing in the middle of this?” Dad’s voice whispers in my ear. "Stupid, Sofia."

  “Carter!” I cry in panic, the shock overriding my brain and the reason I ventured out. If I’m with Dad, then he can’t do anyone else harm. I try to squirm in his hold, but his fingers dig in to the point of pain.

  Carter’s head whips around in our direction, and he locks eyes on me. His face morphs from the usual calm façade he wears into something twisted and angry. His lips rise as if he's become an angry wolf baring his fangs.

  “Vico!” he booms.

  For a split moment, everything stops. Time freezes and there are no more guns, no more fighting. The crunch of gravel interrupts us and men begin to shift, ready for more fighting. I can't bear it and I struggle some more, desperate to get out of all of it, but Dad moves, easing backwards and pulling me with him. The moment my feet move, Carter draws a gun and aims it directly at my dad. His hold on me tightens in response, and then his arm is suddenly up and pointing a gun back at Carter.

  “No, Dad, please don’t. Don’t… Don’t…” I beg, my body going still. “You can stop this.”

  The pounding in my chest starts to ring in my ears as my fear of the situation grips me. Can I go through with this and make sure he leaves everyone else alone?

  Will he even let that happen?

  I stare, transfixed on Carter, and see Logan stalk towards him, his gun also up and raised in our direction. There are few men still standing, but I can feel people surrounding us, closing in on Dad’s side. Men gather around Carter and Logan as well, and I see Nate moving towards us, Aunt Gabby next to him with a weapon in her hand, too, all of them pointed at us. Who are these people? I can't breathe. The vision of it all, the dead men on the ground, blood and death inching their way closer and closer to me. And at the centre, my dad with a gun aimed at Carter, who has his own pointed back.

  I struggle out of sheer panic, my brain a mess of what-ifs, as I try to lock onto any sense of logic around me. There isn't any, though. This is madness. Chaos and…

  “Let her go, Vico,” Carter commands, closing the space between us slowly. I brace in Dad’s hold, not sure what's going to happen next.

  "She's my daughter. You fucking hearing me? Mine," he snaps, holding me still. “Should have killed you while I had the fucking chance. Ended this.”

  “No!” I cry, horrified at what I’m hearing. “Dad, please. Just don’t shoot anyone else. Let’s go. I'll go with you. Please.” My fingers soften on his arm, trying to calm him so we can all leave without any more bloodshed.

  “No.” Out of nowhere, Mom steps between Carter and Logan. She looks as fierce as I know her to be, boldly standing in front of a firing squad. “You aren’t going anywhere.” She takes another step towards us. Her eyes look to mine, mouthing an “are you okay,” as if it's all going to be alright. It isn't, but I nod at her, sucking in the tears and emotion that are threatening to take over.

  “Hope, I was waiting for you to show your face.” The menace in Dad’s voice sends a river of fear through me, reminding me of the tone he used when he was torturing Carter. “I won’t let you take my daughter.”

  “I don’t think you have a choice. Look around you, Benjamin. Stop this before it's too late.” Mom goes for reason, but I know he won’t listen.

  “You’re not in any position, Vico. You’ll be dead before you leave with her.” Carter’s words are filled with venom and stir a mixed response from me as I look into his eyes. No matter what he’s done, I’m not sure I want to see my dad killed in front of me.

  I start to shake at the confusion, first my head, and then my body seems to take over, vibrating as I stare around at everyone and all the guns pointed at us.

  “I came here for my family." He moves me, bitter fingers dragging me towards one of the cars as if I have no choice. "I intend to leave with it. Get your ass in the car, Hope.”

  “Fia, look at me.” Mom takes a step in our direction, blocking us from going any further. There's a kind smile across her face, one that wills me to look at her and not what’s happened under our feet. “Look at me.” Another step closer.

  “That’s enough, Hope.” Dad’s voice brushes the air around my ear. Fear isn’t something I should feel when I think about my father. He’s supposed to keep me safe. But all I hear is hate and loathing in his voice directed at my mom. I can’t let him do this.

  “Benjamin, you do this, and you tear this family apart.”

  “You’ve already done that by helping her. She’s my daughter, and if you hadn’t helped her none of this would have fucking happened. This is your fault. All of it." He starts pulling me again. "You're fucking lucky you're still standing after the shit you've pulled."

  She stabs a finger in his direction, seemingly unconcerned about the gun in his hand, and blocks his route once more. “You don’t get to treat her like a child anymore. Not everything in life is on your terms.”

  Tears fall down my cheeks as I watch them argue and hear the hatred in their voices.

  “Look around you, Benjamin. Look what you’ve done.”

  “You think I’m affected by any of this? After all this time, you should know me better. I couldn't give a fuck about it, or you, if you don't get your GODDAMN ASS IN THE CAR!”

  Something inside me snaps at the way he speaks to her.

  “Don’t you dare speak to Mom that way.” My voice growls with disapproval. “You’re a monster, and you’ve finally shown me what you’re really like.” I fight his grip to face him, but he doesn’t let me go. My wrist is now in the vice-like grip of his hand. “You’re just a bully with a gun, Dad. You can’t threaten us for the rest of our lives.”

  His eyes narrow on me, like he’s finally seen the girl he’s raised. But in a split second it’s replaced with hatred and I know he’ll never be reasoned with. Leaving with him won’t fix this. Nothing will.

  “Fia doesn’t want to go back home!" Mom yells. "She’s made that quite clear.”

  “She's a child. She doesn't get to make that choice.”

  “A child who won’t ever stop fighting you," I snap, shoving him. "How’s your ear?”

  His eyes widen at my remark, enough for me to know his next move. I brace, waiting for the sting across my cheek.

  “No. Don’t you touch her. She’s our child.” Mom’s voice rings out and saves me from the pain of his hand.

  “Vico, let her go. She not a child. Look at yourself for fuck’s sake.” Carter’s voice is equally as menacing as Dad’s but holds a deadly edge of impatience. His family is in danger, Quinn’s already been shot, and everyone else he loves is in the eyeline of a gun. This is everything he wanted to avoid.

  “Let me go, Dad. You’ve lost. It’s time you started getting used to that idea.”

  “Never.” He snarls.

  We stare at each other, and I look for the man I once looked up to. “Dad, please." I tug on my arm, hoping there might still be some part of him left that can see sense, but he doesn’t move. "I came out here to beg you to stop. To make you leave.”

  “I won’t leave without my family," he roars. I force my body not to flinch in his grip, to stay strong.

  “But this isn’t what any of us want, Dad. Can’t you see that. Can’t you see this is my family, too?”

  He pulls me into his grasp, and I stumble forward, his gun still firmly in his hand. "You’d stay with him—with the Canes—over your own blood?” he seethes into my ear.

  I look up at him and grit my teeth, determined not to back down. The memories of the drug deal, of being tied up, of the knife digging into my skin, and watching Dad beat on Carter all crash through my mind, replacing any of the fond memories of him I had. He’ll never manipulate or control me again. Never again.

  “Yes. You showed me what you’re really like. It’s time for you to face the consequences.” My voice wavers, but I remain standing and look him in the eye.

  “The Canes are no better,” he s
pits. "You and your precious Canes. They're killers. All of them. Especially Quinn. You think you can dictate to me who…"

  I shake my head, not prepared to listen. “No, what you did to me can’t be undone. Years of it, Dad. And then making me watch you beat up Carter because what? Someone treated me with respect? You're an animal. Look at what you’re doing now because you can't get your own way. And you say I’m the child.” My hiss fills with the anger that’s been dormant through this. Anger at what he’s done to me. Nineteen years of it. “You don’t have the right to call me your daughter after everything you’ve done. And that’s the truth. I came out here to help the people I love. To go with you to ensure their safety, but I’ll never go willingly.” My teeth grind together as I push the words out, pulling the air into my lungs and hoping this will work out. "You take me, and I'll hate you forever."

  “I’m not leaving here without my family,” he growls, shaking me with rage. But still I stand, my heels digging into the ground, refusing to move further to the car.

  “You won’t have to.” Mom steps closer to us again. “I’ll come with you.”

  “No, Mom. You can’t.” Similar echoes and shouts rain around us, Uncle Nate and Gabby’s voices loud and clear, but Mom still walks further.

  “You won’t get out of here with both of us. Take this. You’ve done too much damage, Benjamin. We can still all be family, but only if you walk away now.”

  She twists around and nods, and the next thing I know, I’m ripped from my father’s grasp. I stumble forward, but sure arms catch me and pull me close. By the time I turn back, Mom is in Dad’s hands.

  “No!” I scream, my voice piercing the air. My body thrusts forward, desperate to get to Mom, to try to save her, but this time it’s Carter who holds me in a vice-like grip. And for the first time since I met him, I'm not sure if I want that or not.

  Twenty-Nine

  She struggles and screams in my hold, arms trying to reach for her mother. I grip harder, dragging her backwards away from both of them. I don’t even know how she got into my arms. Maybe Hope pushed her here, a last shove of motherly intent in the middle of this chaos. Her eyes watch me as she keeps walking towards Vico, a small nod as if she’s telling me to keep Fia safe, keep her away from her father.

  “Mom! Please!”

  My gun rattles against her belt buckle, my hand splayed over her stomach to keep her from running straight back to them.

  “Fia, come on,” I murmur, watching Vico carefully.

  He slides his gun back under his jacket, eyes directed at me as he shrugs his jacket straight and calls his men off. Nate moves in front of me the moment they obey. Logan, too.

  “Hope?” he says.

  “It’s alright, Nate. I’m fine.”

  “No, it’s not alright. MOM! Stay, please.”

  “I love you, Fia. I’m fine. Really. I’ll call you soon.”

  The look Vico gives Hope tells me everything is not fine, and nor will she be. She’ll take a beating for this, take the brunt of his anger and hatred. Everyone knows he doesn't give a crap about hitting women, the woman he apparently loves included. I grip tighter to Fia, the thought of what she could have suffered infuriating me, and start turning, physically lifting her from the ground to get her back into the house and away from the pain she’s feeling. The pain he's caused. But the rage of her fight, the anger and fury inside her, cause me to lose my grip on her.

  She scrabbles and runs, feet barrelling back again.

  “Nate!” I shout, trying to grab hold of her.

  It’s Logan who spins and catches hold of her, his hands pushing her back into me the moment I get to him. Vico chuckles and reaches for a pack of smokes, lighting one. He surveys the carnage around the house, a smooth sense of calm returning to his features regardless of the dead bodies littering the ground or us having hold of his daughter.

  “You sure you don’t want to come home, Sofia?” he asks, drawing on the smoke and putting his body in front of Hope. "It's safe. Secure. Mommy's there to wipe those tears up." Asshole. If I weren’t holding onto her so damn tightly, I'd rip his fucking tongue out and get back to teaching him some manners.

  “I hate you!” she spits, still kicking and fighting me. “Let Mom stay. Please, Dad. Please don’t do this.”

  She’s all over the goddamn place in my hold, nails digging in and elbow pounding me in the ribs like a bitch to get back to them. I grunt, ignoring the pain of my broken bones, and cling on regardless of her spirit. He’s not going to let Hope stay, and she won’t anyway. Not now she sees it as the only way of placating him. I didn’t expect this from Fia, thought her mind was settled. Perhaps I read her wrong.

  I squeeze her, undecided what the fuck to do as I look at Hope. She shakes her head at me, quietly telling me to keep hold of Fia as she puts her hand on Vico’s shoulder to try easing him back. I can't do that, though. Won't. Not even after all this. They're her decisions. Her rules from now on.

  “Fia, make up your fucking mind,” I mutter, releasing her. “I’m not doing it for you.”

  She spins to look at me, shock and anger all over her features. “What?”

  “Go, stay. This has all been for you. Either way, I’m not forcing you into anything. I’m not him and I never fucking will be.”

  She looks lost standing there with nothing to hold her still, her body vibrating as she glances between her mother and me. Doors on one of the cars slam and then the other, the few guys on Vico’s team getting ready to leave by loading in their dead.

  Looks like time’s up for decisions.

  “This isn’t over, Vico,” Nate calls, his feet inching forward.

  Logan moves with him, blocking Fia’s view. She doesn’t move, though, just keeps staring at me as if I’ve got answers to questions she hasn’t even asked. My goddamn eyes stare back, not sure if I have any answers or not, but no way am I forcing her to stay if she’d rather go.

  Another fucking chuckle from Vico breaks our gaze at each other. Fia’s so quick to pick up some stones from the floor and launch them at him, I feel like pulling a trigger at him to help her out. They scatter over the vehicle, some of them hitting him on the back of his head as he opens the door and pushes Hope inside. He barely acknowledges them, just brushes off his jacket sleeves and then slides into the car with her while looking back.

  No other response. No show of care.

  No goodbyes.

  The cars peel off one by one, Vico’s the last to leave, and I watch Fia as she paces around a small area, fists clenched, and finally drops down to her knees in the gravel.

  The scream that rips from her could be heard ten miles out as she scrapes stones with her nails. It hurts me, the sound of her screams. I can feel them inside me, feel them like they’ll stick in my guts and show me what the fuck this has all been for. But still I stand away from her, hands in my pockets without a goddamn clue what to do next.

  It takes Logan moving towards her to wake me the fuck up. I growl, physically growl at him to warn him to back off, and then nod at Nate as he moves back towards the house and takes Logan with him.

  “How’s Quinn?” I ask, as they pass by, still looking at Fia.

  “Bitching. Gabby says it’s okay, though." He puts his hand on my shoulder, squeezing slightly. "She was dealing with it before I came back out. I’ll go check now, find out where the doctor is.”

  I nod and listen to them leaving, glancing at the few of our guys who are dealing with the bodies littered around. All this for her. And what now? My eyes keep looking at her down there, part of me trying to calm the fuck down enough to try searching for empathy. Never has been an emotion I’ve gotten a hold of, never even tried. There’s no logic in it. No reason or judgement. It’s irrational and purposeless. Futile.

  And they’re all things I’ve avoided my whole damn life.

  Guess you can’t avoid love, though.

  That bitch bites hard.

  My feet move me towards her after listening to her sniff
back tears. If nothing else I need to get her off the ground so she doesn’t have to see the bodies being dragged and dumped into cars. Maybe I want to hold her, too. I don’t know. I’m twisted up, body aching for reasons that make no fucking sense to me.

  She doesn’t acknowledge my approach, just keeps muttering to herself as if she can change things. She can’t, not unless she calls up her father and makes him come back for her.

  “Come into the house,” I say, reaching for her.

  “Screw you, Carter.”

  My lips quirk, a half-hearted chuckle coming at her venom. It’s fine. She can have that until she’s got her head straight again. I probably deserve it anyway given the way I left her in the pool. We’ve got a lot to talk about before we take any steps further than we already have. She needs to know who I am for a start, understand what life is like around here.

  “The screwing comes later, Fia. Up.”

  She spins and scrabbles to her feet, hand coming at my face quicker than lightning. Good girl. I take the slap and push into her, grabbing her waist to me. Bloodshot eyes fire at me from behind the tears still welling in them. “You wanna do that again?”

  “Yes. You fucking deserve it.”

  Yeah.

  I pull her closer and tuck her head into my chest, letting her get the rest of those sniffs in check against me if that's what she needs. Feels kinda nice for a few minutes, and my breath blows out as I feel the wash of calm finally settle. My chin hovers over her head, not sure if I should cling on or let go.

  “You alright now?" I murmur, eyes looking around the grounds. "I need to go check on Quinn.”

  She pushes away from me, eyes widening instantly, and turns so she can sprint to the house. I follow, hurrying my ass to keep up with her as she skids into the hall and listens for where they are. It’s not hard. I can hear him bitching from the lounge, Emily trying to calm him down. She runs into the room and drops to her knees by his side, hands fidgeting all over him to make sure he’s alive. Of course, he is. A guy like Quinn won’t go out with a bullet to the leg.