Page 72 of Love Over Time

A prick on my shoulder made me spin to face Francesca. I glared at the needle lodged in my skin and shoved Francesca away. Before she could squeeze the plunger, I plucked the syringe off and threw it against the wall. We were farther into the tunnel, where the light from the chandelier didn’t reach. I couldn’t see for shit, but Nikki seemed to have a pretty good idea of what was what. Her hands fumbled with her skirt before she threw cable ties at my chest. I only caught one.

“You have ten seconds before he can move again. Tie him up.”

I scrambled to the dark lump on the floor, feeling my way around Scott to find his hands. I flipped him onto his belly and brought his wrists together to wrap the plastic tie around them. He jerked and convulsed as his body recovered from the shock. Droppings and other crunchy debris stuck to my palms while I scoured the floor with my hands. I found a second cable tie and used it to secure his ankles. He bucked again, and I pulled on the plastic to make it dig into his jeans and hopefully cut his skin.

I rose to my feet to find Nikki standing next to me, her handgun back on Francesca. Now that my eyes had adjusted to the dark, I could see Nikki’s trembling hands. She didn’t want to shoot, which left Francesca with two choices: call Nikki’s bluff or take off to save her own skin. Francesca’s hate toward my family ran deeper than self-preservation. She could’ve run, but instead, she launched at Nikki. In the same heartbeat, Nikki pulled the trigger. Francesca’s ear-splitting screams filled the room a second before she fell to the floor with a thud.

“I couldn’t kill her. It’d be too easy for her. I want her to rot in jail.” She lowered her gun, shoulders slumped.

I wanted to hold her, tell her it was over. “You have to go before Jonathan comes back.”

As if I’d summoned him, Jonathan rushed through the door and landed by Francesca’s side.

“You’re hurt? I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.” He wrapped his arms around Francesca. She writhed in pain from the wound on her leg and didn’t seem to notice he was by her side. “Would you ever forgive me? I never meant to betray you.”

Heat surged through my body like wildfire. This asshole had made my life a living hell, and all he could do was apologize to his monster of a wife for leaving her? Dad’s last moments flickered through my mind. But they were no longer the pictures from Lisa’s file. They were memories. Memories of what Francesca had done to Dad and what Jonathan had done to cover it up.

“Henry.” Nikki’s hand brushed my elbow.

I stomped to Jonathan, gripped him by the collar, and dragged him out to the foyer. I wanted to see his eyes when he took his last breath. I wanted to take everything from him, as he had with us. I slammed him against the wall and threw the first punch. He cowered, putting up his hands to protect his face. My blow cut through the gap between his arms and made his head bounce hard against the brick.

“Henry. I didn’t kill your dad. I swear it.” He grunted when my right hook connected with his side, again and again. Any minute now, my anger and thirst for revenge would be satisfied.

He slid down and fell into a pathetic heap at my feet. I picked him up and pinned him to the wall.

“Maybe he didn’t die by your hand. But you brought this snake into our family, you protected her, and you sent an innocent girl to jail to save this monster. Why?”

“Because she asked. I love her. I would do anything for her,” he whined, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“No. You did it because you’re spineless.” Sweat ran down my back, cold against my overheated skin. I lay into him again, and all he could do was whimper as he tangled his arms and hands around his head. He couldn’t even give me the satisfaction of a real fight. He dropped to the floor, and I stepped back. Jonathan lay exactly on the spot where Dad had died a senseless death because of the misplaced trust he’d put on his useless brother and sister-in-law.

Somewhere over the pounding of my heartbeat, Nikki’s muffled voice filtered through, asking me to let him go, that it wasn’t worth it. She was wrong. Every bit of it was worth it. Even the throbbing ache over my raw knuckles was worth it just to see him like this. To see the fear in his eyes as he realized where he was, that he was going to die where Dad died.

His face had turned to a soft pulp, and still my fucking anger hadn’t subsided. I fell to my knees next to him on the floor. Blood rushed to my head, making me see spots. I straddled him and wrapped my hands around his neck. The way I’d always wanted to do. I pressed my thumbs against his Adams’s apple and waited until red rose up his neck and face.

“I saw you both that day. Right over there. I let you go,” he croaked. “If I had told her you were here, she would’ve killed you both. I saved your lives. I moved the body so she wouldn’t come back in here.”

“The bodywas your brother, you son of a bitch,” I screamed. My breath blew hot on his face and my hands. “You ruined all our lives for her. And she doesn’t even love you.”

His neck strained under my grip. The cut on his cheekbone oozed faster the harder I pressed. His voice dropped to a whisper, a quiet breath, but he continued to beg, like the spineless asshole he was.

“Please, Henry. I did what I could. That has to count for something…for a bit of mercy.” He swallowed, and his Adam’s apple bobbed over my thumbs. “I made sure Tessa was happy here. I did everything I could. I helped her escape, but she wouldn’t leave town. Not until you left with her.” He coughed, and I loosened my grip, confused by his words.

Had he really been helping Mom? That was bullshit. They both knew where to find me.

“Why didn’t you come to me?”

He blinked fast, his gaze turning to Francesca who was now half-dazed. All her focus was on her bleeding wound. She couldn’t care less if her husband was getting the shit beaten out of him. Francesca only cared about herself, about what she wanted for herself. She’d used him.

“I didn’t want her to hate me for helping you.”

“You two deserve each other.” I glared at him. Jonathan’s vile confessions made me sick. The confessions of a psychopath. “Why did she kill him?”

“He cut us off—”

I couldn’t hear any more. The truth was as horrifying as what they’d done to all of us. He gasped as my fingers tightened around his neck.

Nikki placed her hand on my shoulder, kneading and pushing.

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