Page 34 of The Awakening

“Oh, you mean this twin?” Dean’s voice draws my attention to the side of the house. My smile is now impossible to hide as I watch Cara begin to crumble right in front of my eyes. It’s fucking beautiful. Dean’s large frame emerges along with a slumped over Cal, who he’s dragging by his arm through the wet grass. “Yeah, he wasn’t being a very good boy. We had to put him down. Can never trust a dog that bites, you know what I mean?” He drops Cal’s limp and very dead body before making his way over to stand beside me.

“Like I said, this isn’t over,” she growls out, her body shaking with anger as a lone tear falls from her eye, leaving a wet streak down her cheek at the sight of Cal’s body.

“Oh, I think dis is all very much over wit, Cara.” Arno redirects his gun to an older gentleman I didn’t see walking slowly towards the five of us. Walking behind him are two middle-aged men in black suits, looking unfazed at the chaos they just entered.

“Lower ye gun boy, I’m no threat to ye.” The men in suits grab Cara by her arms and pull her behind the older man, who is now staring directly at me.

“Ye must be, Sloan. I’ve been lookin’ for ye. I’m Shem, your grandfather.”

I can’t help the gasp that leaves my lips at the sight of my grandfather standing in front of me. He looks just the same as he did that day he came looking for me as a little girl. He takes another step towards me. Everett and Dean stand in front of me, protecting me with their bodies.

“Listen boys, I told ye I’m not goin’ to hurt her. I want to apologize.”

Apologize...I didn’t see that coming.

“Shem, she can’t be trusted, she killed—” Cara’s words are cut off mid-cry.

“I suggest ye shut ye mouth.” Shem pulls a gun from behind his back, pointing it directly at Cara’s face. She gasps in surprise, her eyes going wide in fear. He takes a step closer to her, his expression hardening.

“Did ye think killin’ off ye siblings would be the answer to inheriting me fortune?” he shouts down at her. He’s not tall by any means, not nearly as tall as Everett or Dean, but he is taller than Cara, who is now hunched low as he scolds her like a small puppy. “Did ye think I wouldn’t find out? Shame on ye, girl, shame on ye.”

“Shem, I’m sorry. Listen, ye have to believe me, she is a threat!” A loud noise pierces the air, my body flinching at the bang that reverberates through the night. Smoke plums from the end of my gun, and a lifeless Cara lies on the ground, her eyes still wide as blood leaks from the gaping hole in her forehead. My jaw hangs low—shock and disbelief clouding my brain. I killed Cara.

With an outstretched arm, I continue pointing my gun in the direction of Cara as Dean places his hand over the top of the barrel. Slowly lowering the gun to the floor, he wraps his fingers around mine and takes the gun from my grasp. Shem turns to face me with an unreadable expression on his face. His hands find his suit jacket where he buries his hands in deep. His breathing is short and erratic, a cough slipping from his lips between every breath.

“Can’t say she didn’t ‘ave that comin’.” He’s not fazed in the slightest that I killed his granddaughter in cold blood. I expect him, or even his men, to rush me, but everyone remains where they stand. This is the life I live now, where murder is just another day at the office.

“As ye can see, I’m a very sick man. Not much longer for me, I reckon.” Pulling out a white cloth, he covers his mouth and coughs several coughs, choking and spitting as he does. I wince at the wet noises he creates. Pulling the cloth from his mouth, I see bright red smears, blood coming up with each cough he delivers. I lick my lips, my throat suddenly going dry.

“I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances. I hoped I’d meet ye before I took me last breath. I wanted to give ye somethin’.” Shem extends his hand towards one of his men, who hands him a manilla envelope. He takes a step closer to me, but Dean stands in front of me as Shem hands him the envelope.

“Don’t open it now. It’s for when I die, which shouldn’t be too much longer.” He takes a deep breath before continuing, the act looking painful as he winces with the rise and fall of his chest. “I apologize for dis cruel life ye’ve lived so far. I tried getting custody of ye when ye was a wee lass, but ye father wouldn’t allow dat. When I came lookin’ for ye, I saw the conditions ye were in, and I knew I needed to intervene. However, America has a way of doin’ things that make it difficult, even when it’s apparent a child is suffering. I’m just sorry I couldn’t save ye.” He coughs more into his cloth, more blood bubbling from his throat.

One of his men rests his hand on his shoulder before whispering at his side.

“Talkin’ makes it worse sir, I suggest—” Shem cuts him off, raising his hand to silence him.

“I’m dead already.” Shem wipes his mouth once again before straightening his back and continuing. “I want ye to know dis business, dis life is not somethin’ I want for me grandkids. As ye can see, money and power can turn the best of people into monsters.” He waves his hand at Cara’s body, a perfect example of what could happen when the promise of such wealth goes to your head. “I don’t want dis business for ye. I want ye to live—live a life with these boys who clearly love you in a way ye deserve. Stay with them. Live happily, erase the horrors of ye past, and build the life ye want. Ye are strong, Sloan, that much is certain. It’s clear ye’ve followed a path worth continuing on. I admire ye will to live, sweetheart. I’m sorry for me son, and the childhood he robbed from ye. I hope what’s in that envelope will show ye how much I care for ye, even though this is our first meeting and, quite possibly our last.”

Shem coughs some more, his white cloth now completely saturated in blood as my eyes begin to sting with fresh tears. I don’t know this man. I never thought I’d see him again after he came looking for me all those years ago. Looking at him now—aged, sick, and rapidly deteriorating in front of me—I pity him. He wanted what I’ve wanted my whole life—a family. Not only have I been robbed of a family, he has too. His son—my father—Cara, and Cormick had all turned into the very monsters he speaks about. I watch him as he continues to cough and gasp for air when his knees start to tremble. I push past Everett and Dean, rushing towards Shem to catch him as he slowly falls to the ground.

Wrapping my arms around his chest, I ease his body towards the ground, his weight too much to hold up. We both hit the wet ground, as his body begins to shake as his men cradle his head in their hands.

“Shem,” I whisper, my voice shaking as his face stares up at mine. His eyes are a deep blue, not as bright as mine, but more of a deep ocean-blue. Reaching his hand to my face, he cups my face in his large, calloused hand.

“I’m sorry, me child.” Tears rush down my cheeks, a sob escaping my lips. “Ye look just like ye grandmother, she would ’ave loved ye.” I smile down at him. A broken man I only wish could’ve been a part of my life even for a moment longer, but he’s fading fast. Those deep blue eyes become hazy and distant, but he still stares up at me, a small smile pulling at his lips before his whole body relaxes against me.

Life is cruel, just like love. We’re never dealt the hand we wish. It’s truly unfair. The one thing in this world I’ve ever wished for has just died in my arms. Bowing my head, I let it all out. I scream into the darkness of the night. I scream so hard my throat starts to hurt. My tears fall against his body, my sobs are uncontrollable as Dean and Everett kneel down beside me. I don’t know how long I cry over Shem’s lifeless body, but no one interrupts me. They let me grieve, let me feel, let me say goodbye.

I lower my face to his, kissing his forehead gently. “Goodbye, Shem,” I whisper before lifting my head towards his men. Giving me a slight nod, the pair of them grab hold of Shem’s arms, hosting him up and carrying him to the front of the house. Arno follows them, opening the door for them and then closing it behind them. Coming to where I’m kneeling on the ground, the three of us stand in unison as I collect myself, wiping my face clean of tears and brushing off my knees.

Footsteps crunch over the gravel behind us. Turning, I see Jei, Stefan, and Cain joining us with their rifles slung over their backs. Just then my heart begins to race as I face Everett and Dean and whisper, “Colson? Is he—?”

“Baby girl, he’s alive,” Everett says, leaning down and capturing my face in his hands. His forehead rests against mine, and I fully and completely crumble.

We all make our way back to our safe location where the suburban sits. Stone is leaning against the open back hatch, wiping his hands with a cloth before he notices the seven of us approaching. Pushing off the back, he turns to face us, his face neutral and unreadable. My heart is pounding so hard in my chest I can feel it in my ears.

I run towards the SUV. Stone’s arm grabs me by the waist, stopping me before I can see inside.

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