Closer to the Edge

by Tara Sivec

  We thought we knew who the real head of the Vargas family was, but we had it all wrong. Neither of us had any idea who was actually pulling the strings.

  I realize as I slowly make my way through the rain that the puppet master wins in the end. I know I’m walking towards my death, but I don’t have any other choice and, at this point, maybe I deserve it.

  I’d much rather die, surrounded by the house Cole started building us when he still loved me than live in a world where his eyes are full of hate as he accuses me of killing our son.

  “SO, THE LAST time you had contact with the suspected victim was around 8:45 pm, is that correct?”

  “OLIVIA! Her name is fucking OLIVIA and she’s not a suspected victim, for Christ’s sake. Get your head out of your ass and find her!”

  Garrett grabs my upper arms and pulls me away from the police officer, who continues to glare at me as he jots down information.

  “Take a breath, man. They’re doing everything they can,” Garrett tells me as he pulls me out of the living room and into the kitchen. My house is swarming with people dusting for prints, taking pictures and asking the same damn questions over and over. “We’re lucky these people even showed up. They don’t bat an eye if a person hasn’t been missing for at least twenty-four hours, so be thankful the police chief owes me a few favors. I know you’re freaking the fuck out, but it’s not helping things.”

  I walk over to the kitchen table and rest my hands on top of it, letting my head drop between my shoulders. My knee is fucking killing me after being off of my crutches all day and the numbness from all the alcohol I consumed earlier has worn off.

  “Did Parker find anything at my parent’s house?” I ask quietly, trying to calm the panic raging inside of me.

  “No. She just sent me a text. The officer she took over there searched the house and no one is home. All the cars are gone and no one is answering their cell phones, either. Tell me this, why the hell do people have cell phones if they never fucking answer them?”

  Garrett tries to make a joke, but I don’t have it in me to laugh. I just want to find her. At this point, I’m not even concerned with all of the apologies I need to give her. I just want to know that she’s safe.

  I hear a commotion in the living room followed by one of the officers informing someone that they are disturbing a crime scene and asking them to leave. Garrett and I share a confused look before we move quickly out of the kitchen and back into the living room.

  I stop short when I see who’s standing in the doorway, the very same officer I just chewed out blocking his entry.

  “Dad, what are you doing here?”

  My father looks over the officer’s shoulder at me, irritation written all over his face.

  “Will you kindly tell this young man that I’m not a stranger, that I own this house and have every right to be here?”

  Garrett puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes, a gentle warning for me to keep it together when all I want to do is rage at everyone around me, including my father, who is supposed to be locked away in a mental hospital. I have no idea if it’s safe to let him in the house, but I’m guessing he won’t be able to do too much damage surrounded by a bunch of heavily armed police officers and two former Navy SEALs.

  I motion to the cop, who silently steps to the side as my father brushes past him with a scowl on his face.

  “What the hell is going on? Why are there police cars lining the driveway and making a mess of my damn house?” my father asks as he approaches me and Garrett.

  “I think a better question would be, why are you out of the hospital?” I fire back.

  He huffs, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms in front of him. “I told her she was just going to make it worse by altering the truth, but she wouldn’t listen. She’s been pissed at me for years and I went along with this asinine scheme of hers because she said it was the only way for her to save face. Hell, a part of me felt guilty for putting her through what I did, so I let her do whatever she wanted. It’s not like I planned on ever coming back, so it didn’t matter to me one way or another what everyone thought.”

  I’m growing more and more confused the longer he talks and I wonder if I should ask one of the officers for a straight jacket or some shit. He’s not making any sense and it’s becoming more and more apparent that he really has lost his mind.

  “I’m not the crazy one, so wipe that look off your face,” he snaps.

  “Dad, I don’t have time for this shit right now. Olivia is missing and she might be hurt. If you know something about that, you better fucking come clean.”

  The anger in his face morphs into worry. “You have to understand, I thought she was doing better. I really thought she’d moved on and all the hatred and jealousy was finished. The doctors thought they’d finally found the right combination of medicine for her and everything was looking better and better. I didn’t think it would hurt to pull a few strings and get Olivia hired as your nurse. I mean, this family did a number on her and it was my way of trying to make things right again. I know I wasn’t the best husband or father. I know I cared more about work than my family. It’s a tough pill to swallow when you get to be my age and realize your entire life was one big joke.”

  I watched as he took a seat on the couch, slouching back on the cushions in defeat, looking nothing like the formidable man who intimidated me as a child.

  “Jesus, son, didn’t you wonder why none of your relationships ever worked out? Those women headed for the hills faster than you could blink. Until Olivia. She’s a firecracker, that one. When we met her that day at the restaurant, I couldn’t help but smile, knowing she was going to fuck everything up. She wouldn’t be easy to bribe or threaten and I liked that about her. I also knew that it wouldn’t end well for her, so I went along with the plan because it was the only way to keep her safe. It was stupid and foolish, but it was the only thing we knew how to do. We’d been covering this shit up for years, hiding the truth from everyone.”

  I’m shaking my head back and forth, not really believing what he’s saying, but something inside of me knows it’s the truth.

  “What did you do? What the hell did you do?” I whisper angrily.

  He clears his throat uncomfortably and refuses to look me in the eye.

  “We tried to get her to leave town, to forget about you and just move on. It was easy enough with the handful of other women you’ve dated through the years, so we figured it would work out the same way with Olivia. The pregnancy threw a wrench in everything, though. It made her angrier, more volatile and dangerous. We didn’t know what she was capable of until it was too late. When I tell you that we thought she was doing better, I really mean it. When she found out about that baby, everything blew up in our faces. We wanted Olivia to leave, to go away before she found out, but that girl wouldn’t budge. When we found out she went into labor early, we knew. We knew what she’d done, but it was too late to fix things. All we did by trying to hide the truth was make it worse.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Garrett mutters from behind me.

  “I came here hoping she’d be here, hoping she wasn’t going to do something stupid. She completely lost it earlier when we went to visit her, but they put her on lock down and we thought that was the end of it. We can’t repair the damage she’s caused, but we were hoping we could keep her from doing something worse than what she’s already accomplished. I got a call a few hours ago that she’d somehow gotten out and I knew. I knew she’d come back here to finish it.”

  I sink down into the chair across from my father and wonder when the hell everyone around me went crazy. Lies and conspiracies, cover-ups and jealousies that I can’t even comprehend… is this really my life right now?

  “Where is she, Charles? Where the hell is Vivien?” Garrett questions.

  My father looks up at him in confusion. “Vivien? How the hell would I know? I’m talking about Caroline.”

  He leans forward on the couch and his eyes meet mine. “Your s
ister is sick. Very, very sick. Your mother just wanted to protect you. And her. In her own twisted way, she thought she was doing what was best and I went along with it. I should have put an end to this damn charade a long time ago. I should have never let it get as far as it did. You, Olivia and that baby, you all paid the price for our mistakes and you have no idea how sorry I am for that.”

  I think about every memory I have of Caroline, from the day they brought her home from foster care to our conversation this morning. She’s always been possessive of me and my time, but I never thought it was anything more than a younger sister, older brother, hero-worship sort of thing. She looked up to me and she needed me and I loved every minute of it. I loved being needed by someone when my parents were too busy with their own lives to care. I guess I didn’t allow myself to see the jealousy in her eyes when I introduced her to someone I was dating, but it was there. It was always there. She wanted to be friends with Olivia the very first time she met her, to hang out with us whenever she was in town. Her snide comments when I was affectionate towards Olivia or when we talked about our future always made me laugh and roll my eyes at her. How in the hell did I miss her rage and jealousy? Why didn’t I see the evil boiling underneath the surface? All those shopping trips, all those vacations over the years that she laughed off and my parents complained about… those were the times she was locked away so the doctors could try and fix her. Not my father, Caroline. Why did they lie? Why would my mother create such an elaborate story about my father being insane when all this time it was Caroline?

  “Excuse me, sir?”

  I look up at one of the police officers standing next to my chair.

  “We just went through the mess in the office down the hall and it looks like someone set a fire in the garbage can next to the desk. It must’ve burned out pretty quick because some of the pieces are still in tact. Does this look like something the perpetrator might have been looking for?”

  My heart skips a beat when he says the word “perpetrator,” knowing that he’s referring to my sister. My fucking sister!

  I grab the paper out of his hands, the edges charred and a few pieces of ash falling away and onto my lap. I stare at what’s left of the paper in my hand, recognizing the blue graph lines and measurements immediately.

  “I know where she took her. FUCK! I know where she took her!” I yell, throwing the burnt page to the ground and pushing myself up from the chair.

  I hear Garrett calling my name, but I ignore him. I forget about the pain in my knee and I move as fast as I can out the door and into the rain, racing to my car.

  “YOU GOT WHAT you wanted, Caroline. Cole doesn’t want anything to do with me. You don’t have to do this,” I plead with her as we stand under the roof, out of the pouring rain.

  She has the gun pointed at my chest and I know there’s no reasoning with her, but I can’t help it. Fight or flight has kicked in. I can’t flee, but I sure as hell can try to fight.

  “Oh please. Like he isn’t going to come running back to you the first chance he gets. I was the one who stood by him all these years, ME! Not our mother, not our father, but me. Then you had to come along and fuck it all up. You, with your dark skin and hair… nothing like the little blonde twits he brought home all those years. This house should be mine. You don’t deserve it. I DESERVE IT!”

  Her angry shout echoes through the shell of the house and is punctuated with a loud clap of thunder.

  “God, do you have any idea how good it felt standing in the hallway of the hospital, watching you scream in pain, knowing I was the one who made it happen?” she asks with a laugh.

  I can’t hide the shocked look on my face and Caroline laughs even harder. “Oh, my God! Did you still think it was my mother? Oh, that’s good. That’s really good.”

  She continues laughing and I want to smack the smile right off of her face. Caroline takes a step towards me and presses the nose of the gun into my sternum. “It was so fucking easy taking my mother’s I.D. card, it’s pathetic. She leaves that thing lying around, just begging for someone to steal it. I wasn’t sure exactly how I’d get that Pitocin in you, but my mother graciously informed me that you were coming up to her office for a little chat about the bastard you were carrying and refused to get rid of. My stupid mother wanted to make amends. She thought I was over my infatuation with Cole and she thought it was safe to bring you into the family. I knew damn well she’d offer you tea. That woman loves her fucking tea. She never actually drinks it, but she thinks it makes her look refined and sophisticated when she talks about that damn tea that she has flown in from God knows where. Her assistant brought in a fresh pot right before my father dragged me out of there and all I had to do was squirt just enough into the carafe while the two of them were busy arguing about what to do with me now that I was ‘healthy’.”

  Caroline pokes the gun harder into my chest and I wince.

  “My parents never really knew how to handle me. They tried therapy when I was younger, but it didn’t make me complacent enough for dear old Mom and Dad. They thought turning me into a zombie with medication would make everything better, but that only worked for a little while. When the meds quit having the desired effect, they had me hospitalized. They didn’t understand that taking me away from Cole made everything worse.”

  While she’s busy spilling her secrets, I contemplate wrapping my hands around the muzzle of the gun and trying to wrestle it away from her. It’s clearly not the brightest idea I’ve ever had, but I don’t know what else to do. If she keeps talking, maybe she’ll get distracted enough to loosen her grip on the gun.

  “Cole loves you so much. How could you hurt him like this?” I ask softly.

  “Hurt HIM? I never hurt him. I tried to help him. He’s the one who hurt me, over and over. He didn’t understand. I had to make him understand.”

  I glance down at the gun and quickly back up at Caroline, hoping she didn’t notice. “Understand what? What did you have to make him understand?”

  “THAT YOU WERE NOTHING TO HIM! I’m the one he’s supposed to be with. I’m the one he’s supposed to love and build a future with; build a home for. Not you! What the fuck could you ever give him? You can’t even give him children!” she scoffs.

  “I can’t give him children because of YOU!” I shout back, no longer worried about keeping calm. “You took everything from me!”

  “That’s right, I took it all because it was supposed to be mine!” She screams back. “God, my parents were so fucking stupid, especially my mother. Poor, clueless woman not even realizing that her husband has been fucking around on her for years. He actually let her tell Cole that HE was the crazy one because he thought it would make up for the fact that he was a lying, cheating bastard. He took the heat because he was moving out, leaving all of us to go start a new family somewhere else. He didn’t care if his reputation was shot to hell because he didn’t care about any of us.”

  Jesus, lies on top of lies. Who needs enemies when Cole has a family like this?

  “She thought she could just sweep this all under the rug, make up a few lies, throw me back in another hospital and I’d go away quietly, just like she’s always done. But it’s not going to work this time. I’m not going to LET it work this time. You got in the way and you turned Cole against me. When he came back from that last mission, I knew it was finally my turn. You and your bastard child were out of the picture and he could finally be mine, but you just keep showing up like a bad fucking penny, don’t you, Olivia?”

  Caroline moves the gun away from my chest and I let out the breath I’ve been holding, but my relief is short-lived as she moves the barrel up and presses it into my forehead.

  “Any last words before I end your miserable life? I have to say, it’s kind of nice that you’re going to die knowing Cole hates you. I’ve got to hand it to my mother; all those documents forged to look like you took her bribe and had an abortion were sort of genius. At least she did one thing right. Cole will spend the rest of hi
s life disgusted at the very thought of you and I’ll be right here to pick up the pieces.”

  I try to hold back the sob but it’s no use. My tears mix with the rain on my cheeks as I squeeze my eyes closed and wait for the explosion of the gun. I find solace in the knowledge that I’ll see my little boy soon, that I’ll be able to hold him and kiss his cheeks and tell him how very sorry I am that he never had a chance at life. I find myself wishing, not for the first time, that Cole could have seen him, even if only for a moment. I wish he understood that I could have never, ever gotten rid of that precious little boy that was a perfect combination of the two of us and represented everything good and beautiful about our love. I know Garrett and Parker will fight for him to know the truth after I’m gone. Parker will show him the nursery that I kept locked away behind a closed door and the photo album documenting the seven months I spent scared to death, but happier than I had ever been in my life. She’ll tell Cole the story of how I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy with his dark hair and dimples and my blue eyes and how I never, ever let him go even after they took him from my arms. She’ll tell him that my heart stopped beating for a little while that day and it never really started back up again until Cole came back into my life.

  I pray to God he doesn’t blame himself for what happens tonight. His family twisted everything inside his mind until he didn’t know what to believe. I hope he knows I forgive him for the things he said to me and realizes that this is not his fault.

  “Cole Garrett Lafierre,” I whisper quietly to myself.

  “Shut up,” Caroline barks, her fist slamming against my mouth to try and quiet me.

  “Cole Garrett Lafierre, Cole Garrett Lafierre, Cole Garrett Lafierre,” I speak over and over, spitting the blood from my mouth and letting his name on my lips push aside all of my fears. I’ve never said his name out loud. I wrote it on his birth certificate, I traced my fingers over its etching on the headstone, but I never allowed myself to breathe his name. I let it flow out of me, my voice growing louder and louder each time I say it.