“Back to juvenile vocabulary, are we?” He gives me a sour smile. “Yes, I suppose you never were as smart as I had hoped. A waste of space, just like your brother, just like my brother. Seems like I’m the only Dumont who got the good genes. The rest of you are insipid. Useless. A total disappointment.”
“I’m glad to be a disappointment to you,” I sneer. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
That bothers him. His gaze sharpens, like a wolf. “Is that so? Well, then it’s your lucky day. You got your wish and I get mine. I get to fuck your lover’s brains out before I blow her brains out, and I’m going to make you watch the whole thing. In fact, you’re going to beg me to pull the trigger before it’s time, just to put her out of her misery.”
I can’t give him any more of my attention. I won’t.
I stare into Gabrielle’s eyes, and she stares at me.
I’m trying to tell her I won’t lose her.
She’s trying to tell me something else.
She gives me the slightest nod, like she’s ready for something, and then her eyes dart over my shoulder.
I turn around just in time to see the bloody mess of Jones coming at me in a tackle. I’m thrown to the floor, and everything slows down, frame by frame.
The sword falls from my hands and into Jones’s.
My head hits the floor.
I’m staring at Gabrielle.
She opens her mouth and bites down as hard as she can on my father’s hand. As he yelps in surprise, she puts her self-defense classes to work by throwing her head back and slamming it against my father’s forehead.
The gun drops out of his hands.
Gabrielle picks up the gun just as Jones is about to drive the sword into my heart.
She shoots him in the head.
Jones goes flying back, blood spraying over me.
Now she’s trying to shoot my father, but he springs up, knocking the gun out of her hand.
It skitters across the floor, away from them, away from me, just as I’m trying to get to my feet.
I grab the sword.
Gautier grabs the gun before Gabrielle does.
Looks at me first, aims it at me.
Then smiles.
I’m expecting the bullet just as he turns it to the side and aims it at Gabrielle.
Shoots her in the ribs.
I scream and go running toward him.
He swings the gun around to fire at me, but I’m fast.
I throw myself on top of him, the gun flying across the room again.
I hold him down, and I punch him, over and over again.
My fists are merciless.
They are on a mission.
They are looking for salvation. For justice and revenge.
They will not stop until I can feel the bones of my father’s face brush against my knuckles.
He starts coughing, choking, sputtering.
And yet he’s still smiling at me, white teeth against a face of blood.
“I knew you didn’t have the guts to kill me,” he tells me, spitting out red, maybe a tooth. “You’re such a disappointment, Pascal.”
I pause and sit back on him, crushing his stomach.
“Who said I wasn’t going to kill you?” I growl.
I take the sword and hold it above my father’s heart.
A flash of fear comes over his eyes.
“This is the only time I won’t be a disappointment to you,” I tell him, my voice coming out so gruff and strained that it barely sounds like me. “And it’s going to be at the cost of your life.”
Before he can say anything, before I can hesitate, I drive the sword down, down, down, right into his heart. He struggles, and then he stops.
And then he’s dead.
He’s dead.
I killed him.
My lungs seem to seize in panic and relief, fighting for air, fighting for something to make sense of what I did.
And then I remember why I had to do it.
Gabrielle is lying a few feet away, on her side, bleeding out onto the floor.
I go to her side, beside myself in horror, gently touching her face.
Her eyes flutter as they look up at me.
“Gabrielle,” I whisper. Her name comes out choked. “I’ve got you. You’re safe, I’ve got you.”
She barely nods. Her eyes pinch closed, and she struggles for breath.
I quickly rip off my shirt and then sit down beside her, pulling her up onto my lap and holding the shirt against the wound, which is streaming out. I kiss her head, tell her it’s going to be okay, even though I have no idea if anything is going