Page 58 of Redemption

“Yes, I’m sure. Now, tell me what the hell is going on.”

“Fucking hell!” She spins away muttering under her breath, “It can’t be a coincidence, right? Has to be him.”

I go to her, stopping her pacing with my hands on her shoulders and looking her in the eyes. “Jess, do you know who The Archer is?” She tries to look away, but I give her shoulders a shake, bringing her focus back to me. When her eyes meet mine this time, I see sorrow, remorse, pain and a bright spark of anger that strikes out like a bolt of lightning. “Tell me,” I demand as my own anger begins to rise, and my grip on her shoulders tightens in anticipation of her answer.

“Yes, I know who The Archer is,” she says, her voice quiet and eyes glassed with unshed tears as she becomes lost, staring right through me.

“Who, Jess? Who is The Archer?”

Now completely lost to whatever memory or thought is running through her mind, her answer is detached and devoid of any emotion.

“My father.”

Everything stops. The room warps and my heart ceases to beat as her words penetrate my wrought mind. My legs turn to jelly beneath me, buckling at the knees and dropping me to the floor like a man praying at the altar. There’s a commotion going on around me, but one I’m privy to only from outside my own body. Ethereal like when your soul leaves your body for the final time, and you see the devastation you’re leaving behind. But really the devastation is laid out before me.

Nothing makes sense, yet everything makes sense. All at once, the remorse, the guilt, the pain, everything I’ve endured slams into me. It rips through me, opening wounds that never really healed.

I’ve spent years punishing myself for Kuffs death, for not being there for my wife, refusing to allow myself the pleasures of life, except for my son, and now, the woman I’m falling in love with, the sister of the man I thought died because of me, is telling me that Archie Collins, her own father, is who those men were after.

Unable to contain the rage coursing through me any longer, I let out a roar. It’s guttural and tears its way up my throat, coming out strangled as I swipe an arm across the coffee table, knocking glasses and papers flying. Nowhere near enough to calm my demons, I twist my body and flip the table, sending it crashing to the floor.

“Get her out of here now.” Is shouted above the sound of another thundering roar as it rips out of me.

Gripping my hair with both hands, I drop to the floor. My head falls to my knees as grief engulfs me, and I let it. I let the grief have me as the first tear dampens my jeans. Like my tears seeping across my jeans, my grief infects me until I’m completely cocooned in it. It’s all I feel.

The sound of faint voices whispers over me, barely more than a gentle breeze against the fog in my brain, but when I hear Jess’ angry words, they glide through the fog like a ship through the sea.

“Move out of my fucking way, Seb.”

“No, you need to leave.”

“The fuck I do. Now let me through.” I sense a standoff, but the tension remains like a rubber band pulled taut and ready to snap any minute.

I can just make out Jamie’s voice but not her words a second before Jess drops to the ground in front of me, her knees to mine. My hands, fisted tightly, rest atop my thighs, and Jess closes her own over mine.

“Let it go, Rick. Just let it go. Don’t let it feed from you. Release all the guilt and grief, then pull it back, refocus it and use it to find answers. To get justice.” Her words open the flood gates I’ve held locked, and sliding my legs open, I pull her to me. Gripping onto her tightly with my forehead resting on her chest, I let it out.

Jess holds me while I release my demons, purging them from my soul.

When my mind finally returns to me, I know what needs to be done. But right now, Jess is going to do a little story telling of her own. Aside from needing to know, whatever that cunt of a father did to her is only going to fuel my mission for vengeance.

“Tell me. Tell me what he did to you, JJ.”

Thirty-Two

Jess

“No.” My whole body goes rigid, and I try to pull away. Rick holds fast, his grip on me tightening and refusing me the opportunity to run. I know what he’s asking me. I know he probably has a good idea of what happened to me, but I also know that my father sealed that record watertight.

“JJ,” he scolds, tone demanding yet remaining gentle. And his use of my nickname for the second time has my heart almost climbing outside of my chest in pain, but something more than that too. Love. And arousal. Somehow, this man has the ability to rip my heart out and turn me on at the same time. Somehow, our entwined pasts have come together and lit up the sky, our hearts, bodies and minds. In our combined tragedy, in our grief, we have found love.

“What, Rick? What is it you want to know, huh?” I snap, trying to push his arms away again, but he doesn’t give me an inch of space, not even to inhale fully.

“Everything,” he whispers, looking up at me.

I sigh, dropping my head back and looking up to the ceiling for a couple of short breaths, in and out. I feel his hold on my waist loosen, and instead, he entwines our hands together as I look back down to him.

“When I was seventeen, I went to some lavish party at one of my father’s fellow court-house corrupters. And before you ask, I’m not giving names, so for the purpose of this story, my father’s friend’s son is suspect A.” I wait with a raised brow for him to acknowledge his agreement, and he does, begrudgingly, with a barely there nod. “Suspect A and I were already acquainted having attended the same private school, so I was comfortable in the company of him and his two friends. It wasn’t until much later that I discovered my father had been attempting to make a fucked-up marriage deal with his ‘friend’s’ son. Obviously, that went out the window after that night, but he made up for it a few years later. Anyway, cutting a long story short, suspect A and his two arsehole friends raped me that night. They did a good job too. Not at all worried about leaving evidence or bruises. I guess they thought they’d be home free with a corrupt father, two if you count mine, in the bag, along with the marriage offer on the table, it couldn’t have been easier.” I pause, needing to move position as my foot has gone numb. Pins and needles tingle in my toes and sole of my foot, and Rick reaches out a hand, massaging it for me and bringing it back to life.

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