Page 38 of Restitution
“Excuse me?” Bernadette replies in confusion.
I lower my aim from Stacey and walk to my bike, grabbing my phone and smashing it onto the ground until it’s in pieces. I pull the earpiece out and detach the wire, tossing it into a nearby bush.
Stacey stares at me like I’m a lunatic. “What are you doing?”
I don’t respond as I shoot the cameras, getting both the first time and breaking the last connection Bernadette has to where I am, what I’m saying and what the fuck happens next.
The sound is deafening, the gunshots still echoing far in the distance, and I turn to see Stacey’s shoulders tensed as she stares at me in shock.
My ears ring as I drop my arm to my side, the weapon dangling from my twitching fingers until it hits the ground. I lose my breathfor a long minute, just staring at her.
This is it.
This is the moment I’ve been playing in my head since I crashed my car trying to get to her a year ago. My first fucking chance to actually speak to her face to face.
“Did you get my voicemail?”
She stands as still as a statue, unsure what to say as confusion fills her. Her hand moves behind her back, feeling for the handle of the car door. She’s scared. She’s scared of me.
I’ve broken the last piece of us that was left hanging by a thread. But I had to. I had to make Bernadette believe I would hurt her, so I could get this moment right now.
Tear trails stain her cheeks, and I want so badly to wipe them away.
But she’ll probably slap me – or scream. Either would be a nightmare.
What the fuck do you expect?
“Did you get my voicemail?” I ask her again, desperate as I step forward, causing her to back into the car, and I freeze. “A year ago. I crashed the car trying to get to you. I called. I left a voicemail. Did you listen to it? I meant every word.”
My hair is a mess as I pull off the helmet and throw it aside, fixing my mouth covering before raising both my hands to show I don’t have anything on me.
“Freckles…”
“Don’t you dare call me that! Don’t you dare!” Her face contorts as she fights tears, her chin trembling as she points a finger at me. “You tried toshootme.”
My voice is low, quiet. “I intentionally missed.”
She steps forward, and I flinch back. “You hit me.” My eyeslift to the cut on her cheek. It’s quite deep. It’ll likely scar. “Why?”
“I had to make it look real,” I reply quietly.
“Make it look real?” she retorts. “Were you performing the entire time? Everything you were saying to me? When you beat up Jasonagain?”
“Freckles,” I say again, my chest tight. I’m running out of time. “Please. Just tell me if you heard my voicemail.”
“No. Was it another threat? Another deal to kill me to save yourself? I feel sorry for you, Kade. I really do. I want you out of the mess you’re in, and I’m willing to give up my life to give you your freedom, but don’t you dare try and call me that name.”
She gets closer, and my insides shrink to nothing at her red, swollen eyes and the look of disgust on her face. “Stac—”
The slap knocks my face to the side. “I tried to tell you before you ran off and left me on my knees on your bedroom floor. You won’t silence me again. You wouldn’t listen before, but I’m fucking talking now. I was raped. I was raped by my own stepbrother and all his friends. Jason was drugged, and he was raped too! And you…” She covers her mouth and steps back once. “You left me when I needed you. My dad died, and I was alone and scared.”
“I know,” I say quietly, stepping forward and trying to take her hands, but she pulls away. “I saw the full footage of that night. That’s when I tried to find you and crashed my car. I called you. I left you a voicemail.”
She doesn’t pull away again as I snatch her hands in mine. With my gloves on, I can’t feel how soft her hands are.
“I’m sorry,” I say, my voice breaking. “I’m so sorry, Stacey. I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry I didn’t realise you were being abused at home. He was hitting you, controlling you, and I had no idea.He—” I swallow. “That motherfucker took our daughter from us, and I left. And then I walked away from you a year ago. I’m just so fucking sorry, and I have no idea how to make it up to you.”
Her forehead lowers to my chest; she must be able to feel how fast and hard my heart is beating. “Please just shoot me and get your freedom, Kade. I can’t hear this – not when I’m ready to give up. Please don’t give me something to live for.”
