I shook my head. “I don’t believe that. That’s another level, Nic. He wouldn’t stoop that low.”
The elevator stopped so he hid the gun as two women rode with us. We came off at our floor, my heart in my throat. I prayed Nic was right and I wasn’t too late. He swiped the key and pushed the door open. Keith's watch smashed on the carpet was evidence of a struggle in the room. There was also an overturned chair, and muffled noise came from the bathroom.
“Easier to clean up blood from tiles rather than the carpet,” Nic explained, hanging behind. “I’ll be out here and hope you are right. I don’t think I could face him and see the betrayal in his eyes.”
It must have cost him a lot to have come to me today in the way he had. As I rushed toward the bathroom, I thought how ironic that this very thing had happened to Bryan which I could have prevented. Karma was surely paying us back for all the wrongs we had done.
I careened to a stop at the door to the bathroom. Pa had Keith in the huge tub, gagged and hands tied behind his back The gun was on the floor by Pa's foot and he had a knife in his hand, dripping blood where he had cut Keith in the face once on each cheek. Pa thrust the knife into his shoulder causing Keith to cry out in anguish against the gag in his mouth. He folded over, his chest heaving as he tried to cope with the pain.
“Pa, stop!” I shouted at him as he forced the knife even deeper.
He spun around, grasping the gun from the floor and pointed it at him. “Fucking great! How the hell did you get here?”
I ignored his question and focused on Keith who was mumbling at me through the gag, his eyes full of pain. Anger filled me, and I advanced into the room. “Let him go! Now!”
“Stay right where you are!” he growled at me. “I’ll fucking shoot you, Gio. Don’t make me do it.”
I was so certain he wouldn’t, couldn’t shoot. What kind of father would shoot his own son? My first priority was Keith and getting him to a hospital. I rushed forward toward him and a bullet ripping through my shoulder stopped me in my tracks. I stared, stunned at my father, the determination in his eyes. The bullet jerked my arm, I didn’t feel anything at first and then all at once pain exploded from the wound in my shoulder down to my fingertips.
“You shot me,” I said in shock, bile rising into my throat.
“Yes, and I’ll do it again!” True to his word, his bullet ripped through my stomach causing me to fall to my knees and grab the wound. Blood oozed onto my fingers, staining my hand. Keith thrashed in the tub, shouting behind his gag, his eyes filling with tears that spilled over. His eyes were wild with fright and full of grief and love. Such love.
“I-I love you too,” I told him as I pitched toward the floor.