their presence a blemish in an otherwise empty space.
I thought I’d feel more when I saw her. That some form of feeling, or longing would spike into the deepest crevice of my heart. That I would miss my mom, or the promise of who she should’ve been.
I can’t even say I hate her. The potent realization of nothing hits me when our eyes meet. She’s a stranger, one that provokes no concern or ill-toward or contempt.
“This is a new level of pathetic.” She poisons the air with her voice. “Even for you.”
“Where’s Jesse?” I turn my attention to the man who has played a starring role in my nightmares for the last few years. I know he is safe, but I need Jonathan to say it. To admit that he gave something away. That he’s not a master of the universe. That he had to stoop low enough to hurt a child to force my hand.
“Safe,” he purrs, strolling toward me at a pace similar to a panther stalking its prey. “I had him dropped off outside your fuck buddy’s home with his briefcase full of cash, as promised.”
He’s close enough that I can smell him. The bite of his aftershave enough to make me dry retch. Only, I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Instead, I force my breath to enter and leave my body through my mouth.
“Kitty Kat,” he whispers. “I’ve missed you.” The barrel of his gun moves upward, caressing my face in a malevolent affection.
A warning. I could kill you, he promises.
“Unfortunately, I can’t say the same.”
He chuckles. A soft smooth sound that would make most women weep. “Where did that little backbone come from?” he teases, stepping into my body.
It takes everything I hold inside not to step back.
I lift my chin to the side, avoiding the threat of his face touching mine.
“Don’t worry,” he whispers into my now exposed ear. “I’ll break it again soon enough.”
Wrong answer, asshole, I want to scream. It’s made of fucking steel now.
He hasn’t changed in the years since I escaped his wrath. Your typical Wall Street jerk. Too pretty to be taken seriously by the big boys. Too weak to be accepted by the delinquent. A wannabe mobster living off his daddy’s money because everyone can see him for the flake he is.
His dark hair has grown. Gone is the clean slick-back style, in its place a grown out mess of wavy locks that cuts across the line of his face like a Hollywood heartthrob. Skin a little too pale, lips a little too red. He’s uncomfortable to look at. Attractive, but minacious.
“Are you going to kill me?” I ask.
Tongue peeking out to wet his lips, he taps his gun against his thigh. “I don’t know.”
“Of course he is,” Sarah interrupts. “Are you as stupid as you are weak?”
He ignores her, never moving his eyes from mine.
“Imagine how daddy will feel when his precious Ryn is stripped from his world.”
I close my eyes against her threat, refusing to think of the pain my father and Codi will feel on my death.
She laughs, a horrible sound that resembles a dying hyena. “This is just so much fun. I might have to take away that ungrateful sister of yours as well.”
I step toward her. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”
“News-fucking-flash, Camryn,” she roars. “I’m in charge. I say who the fuck dies and when.”
The deafening bang of Jonathan’s gun firing ricochets through the empty warehouse, bouncing off the walls loud enough to make me flinch. It sails past my head with a crack that makes my eyes water. I don’t hear it hit her, but I hear the solid thump of her body hit the dirty concrete floor with a finality she didn’t see coming.
Rest in fucking Hell, Mother.
Here lives Sarah Rein.
Deceitful wife.
Neglectful mother.
Toxic human.
“Thank fuck,” Jonathan groans. “You know how annoying that bitch was. Fuck. I almost shot her so many fucking times.”
I don’t move my gaze from my mother as he speaks. I watch the blood around her head grow with every second that passes. A puddle of life that is no longer hers. It belongs to the concrete now. Forever stained as an imperfection in this world. A contamination to the world, in both life and death.
I recoil as Jonathan’s fingers grip my chin, demanding my attention. “But if I killed her too soon,” he murmurs, “I may never have gotten you to come to me. Willingly, like a good little Kitty Kat.”
I want to vomit.
“Now.” His hand