Page 125 of Forgive Me Father
Taking shallow, shaky breaths, I can barely make out my dad’s voice, cold and indifferent.
“Go ahead and enjoy listening to her final breaths. Rot in hell, you bitch.”
The sound of my dad’s footsteps retreating fills the line, and my mom’s gasps pierce through the chaos.
“Mom?” I call out, my voice trembling with desperation.
“A-Aiden,” She moans, barely coherent.
Aiden? Why is she mentioning Aiden now?
“Mom, what’s wrong with Aiden? I need you to reach for your phone—”
“A-Aiden,” she groans in agony.
She can’t hear me. She doesn’t realize I’m still on the line.
I text Aiden, but the messages turn green, failing to deliver.
Glancing at Roman, a moral dilemma churns in my mind.
I could wait for Roman to wake up—
“E-Eden,” My mom pleads. “H-Help.”
Frustration wells up inside me.
If I wake Roman, he’ll go alone. What if my dad does something to him?
My dad needs me alive for the bid.
I need to know if Aiden is okay.
Quietly slipping away from the bed, I make my way to the kitchen, grabbing Roman’s Glock and tucking it into my waistband.
I order an Uber, inputting my address with a sinking feeling of dread.
“It’s for Aiden,” I murmur to myself.
I glance back at the bedroom, torn by the urgency of the situation.
“Someone has to keep Roman safe too.”
That’s all it takes to propel me out the door and straight into the fire.
Thirty minutes later, after a nerve-wracking Uber ride and an agonizing wait on my lawn, I stare at the ajar front door of my house.
Quietly nudging the door open, I know calling the cops would be futile. They’d side with my father in an instant.
The hallway is strewn with broken glass and shattered photo frames. A disturbing smear of blood streaks across the wall, intensifying my dread. My hand stays clenched around the hilt of the gun tucked under my shirt, every sense alert.
A single light spills from my father’s study, casting a red pool on the floor.
Mom.
Quickening my pace, I draw the gun, one bullet in the chamber, ready to fire if needed.
Peeking into the study, my heart sinks. There she is—her matted hair and lifeless body on the floor, a pool of blood forming around her head.
