Page 55 of The Birthday Girl
Steve leaned back against the bench, the stem of his glass dangling loosely between his fingers. “She’s complicated, but never ungrateful. You just never understood her and how her brilliant mind works. She’s wired differently. That’s all.” He defended his favorite daughter.
Tisha’s lips pressed into a thin line. She had never cared for Tahlia, not from the moment she’d opened her strange, watchful eyes in the delivery room. There had been a depth in them too vast for a newborn, a black, unblinking stillness that unsettled her. Tisha felt like she was staring into a well with no bottom.
Even Tahlia’s quietness felt predatory, like she was biding her time and waiting for the right moment to strike. She never threw tantrums or had outbursts. There was only that eerie stillness, as if murder were the only language she had ever been destined to learn.
“I think it’s time we leave,” Tisha said, choosing not to continue the conversation.
Her husband would never go against his precious daughter, and she didn’t care to hear him speak of her in reverence for another second.
Steve rose from the bench with a satisfied grunt, setting his glass down to check the controls. The engine coughed to life beneath his hands, a low, steady rumble that vibrated through the deck. He adjusted the throttle, the wheel firm under his grip.
Tisha leaned back against the cabin wall, her laughter spilling easily as she tipped her glass for another drink. Bubbles fizzed against her lips, and she felt them race down her throat before warmth spread through her chest. She waved her free hand toward him, teasing.
“Hurry up and get us going. I’m ready for you to devour me at sea.”
Steve glanced over his shoulder, eyes twinkling, his grin as boyish as it had been decades ago. “I’m moving as fast as I can. You know I’m always ready to tap that ass.”
They shared another laugh, champagne glasses catching the last of the sun as the boat edged away from the dock. The water lapped against the hull in a steady rhythm, the shoreline slipping farther behind them. Steve topped off his glass from the waiting bottle and handed it to Tisha, clinking his own against hers once more.
“To us,” he said again, voice booming over the hum of the motor.
Tisha’s smile was wide, unguarded, and her laugh rang out across the open water as the boat carried them toward the horizon.
The boat rocked gently, water slapping rhythmically against the hull. Tisha tipped her head back, the scarf slipping from her hair, eyes closed in contentment. However, when she opened them again, the edges of the cabin were blurred as though the air itself had thickened.
She blinked, forcing a laugh. “Whew… this champagne is stronger than I thought.”
Steve chuckled, but the sound caught in his throat. He set his glass down quickly, the stem clattering against the table. “Yeah… must be.” His words dragged, his voice heavy.
His fingers crawled to his collar, tugging at nothing, and a vein pulsed in his temple as he raised his hand, then watched it fall as if it belonged to someone else.
Tisha pressed her palm flat against the table for balance, nails clicking against wood as her vision swam. The champagne flute tumbled from her fingers, golden liquid spreading across the floor in a widening pool. Her heartbeat filled her skull. Thud. Thud. Thud. The pounding drowned out Steve's mumble as he folded at the waist. Her world narrowed to a fogged tunnel.
Footsteps creaked across the deck, and Tisha tried to lift her head, but her body refused. Beside her, Steve's chest barely moved, his lips tinged blue at the corners.
A shadow fell across the spilled champagne, and black stilettos stepped through the puddle, leaving perfect prints on the dry wood beyond.
Tahlia's smile gleamed white in the dimness. “Happy anniversary,” she sang, her voice silk over steel.
She lifted the bottle, pouring fresh champagne into her father’s glass as if nothing at all were wrong. “To many morebeautiful years of life together,” she said before Tisha’s lights went out.
Hours later, when she and Steve blinked awake, the cabin was cloaked in night. A low groan of the hull against the water told them they were far from shore. Their wrists hung useless at their sides, their legs heavy as cold metal scraped their skin.
Tisha jerked, the rattle of chains filling the silence. Panic clawed at her chest as she realized the weight at her ankles wasn’t a dream.
Steve’s voice was hoarse, pleading before his eyes even adjusted. “Tahlia, baby girl, what is this? Please, just… set us free.” His chains scraped the wood as he tried to crawl toward her.
Tahlia sat across from them, legs crossed neatly, her posture elegant, her gaze sharp enough to cut through the dark.
“Free?” She tilted her head, amusement flickering across her face. “You’ve never given me freedom a day in my life.”
Steve shook his head violently, tears springing fast. “That’s not true. I never treated you the way your mother did. I loved you. I always loved you.”
“You never protected me either,” she replied, her voice flat. “You watched her belittle me, and you let her decide which of your daughters was worthy of love. Do you think silence made you innocent?”
Tisha spat, fury cracking through her fear. “You’ve always been strange, Tahlia. I saw it the moment you opened those black eyes of yours. I knew you were waiting for this day.”
Tahlia’s smile widened. “And there it is.” She rose with unhurried grace. “You always said Danielle was the angel, the one you could count on. You know what her first word was? Please. Mine was no. You should be proud of the woman I am today. You made me into exactly what you wanted.”
