Page 113 of The Bridesmaid
‘Looks like it hit your intestine,’ I tell him, taking in the way the fluid and gases are pushing his abdomen outwards. ‘You’ve got about an hour.’
I don’t tell him the rest. That he’ll likely die in agony, poisoned by his own intestines.
He looks out to sea. ‘We can’t get a medic out here for at least three hours.’
‘A medic probably couldn’t help you anyway.’
He smiles. ‘Thanks for not lying to me.’ Leopold is looking at the glass-walled sides of the Tower Suite.
‘I built this place,’ he says. ‘From a patch of swamp, and some broken old buildings. When people think of Caribbean islands, they think paradise. But I tell you, this was a hell on earth.’ He shakes his head. ‘Hard to imagine now, how I had the energy. Athena and I were a good team. In the old days.’
The sun is deepening in the sky, sending rays of gold and umber across the glittering sea. Leopold’s eyes are distant, looking out over his island and the ocean beyond.
‘What do you think, Holly?’ he says. ‘If a person slipped and fell from here, would the body be swept out to sea?’
I look down at the rocks. The way the current swirls around them.
‘If a person fell from here,’ I say, catching his meaning, ‘I think there’s a good chance their body would never be recovered for forensic examination.’
He nods. ‘When I was a kid,’ he says, ‘boys like me would disappear. Just, disappear. Poof.’ He clicks his fingers. ‘No one gave a rat’s ass about a sixteen-year-old goon from Lower East. We were expendable.’ He fills his lungs, proud. ‘But if anything happened tomydaughters, thewhole worldwould notice.’ Leopold nods again, the slightest touch of pride on his pale face. ‘Fathers protect their daughters. That’s what good fathers do.’
We look at one another. Something passes between us.
‘Mr Kensington …’
You can call me Mr Kolowski. I’ve been dodging that name my whole life. Might as well own it now.’ He sighs. ‘A good father also knows when to let go. Never was so good at that part.’
Footsteps sound outside the room. Leopold takes a step toward the edge of the pool.
I instinctively move toward him. But it’s too late.
Leopold drops from sight and is gone.
Chapter Ninety-three
ADRIANNA
When I saw the blood on the sand, I knew. I just knew. I even knew where Dad would go.
It was hard to run in the dress, and halfway up the hill, I ripped away the long train, and threw it into the jungle undergrowth. Somewhere behind, I heard Mark’s voice. Guess he must have finally pulled himself together. Because honestly, Mark was next to useless, standing open-mouthed on the beach, while Georgia and Ophelia worked out a plan.
I made it into Fortune House, my dress dragging over the herringbone floors. I wasn’t sure it would fit in the elevator, so I took the stairs. By the time I reached the door of the Tower Suite, sweat was pouring down the sides of my face.
I thought I could hear his voice, on the other side of the door. But as I throw it open, Dad isn’t here. It’s just Holly. A strange look on her round face.
I follow the direction of her gaze. There’s blood in the water, on the edge of the infinity pool. A flash of red that flows away and out of sight.
Dad has gone.
I knew it already, I realize. Before I opened the door, or entered the house, or even left the beach.
I close my eyes and sink to the floor of my honeymoon suite, the fifty-thousand-dollar bridal gown pooling around me. Dad always talked about the importance of family.
He was right. I’d give up all of it. Every last designer gown. Every multi-million-dollar sponsorship contract. Every pretty picture. I’d give it all up for one last minute with him.
I’m crying. Holly moves closer, looking uncertain.
‘I knew he’d come here,’ I tell her, wiping my cheeks. ‘His whole goddamn domain, laid out before him. Why? Why didn’t he say goodbye?’
