Page 78 of A Kiss at Midnight

“Byron and I remember everything that happened...vividly— all of the fights, all of the underhanded things our mother did, and the whipped man our father became. She couldn’t leave him and walk away with the money because she’d signed an unbreakable prenup. Sure, she could’ve gotten a lot of money for child support, but it wouldn’t have been enough to cover the lifestyle she’d grown accustomed to,andshe didn’t want us. She liked that we had a nanny and she didn’t have to deal with us. We barely saw her, and we certainly didn’t talk to her. Tyler was too young to be affected by her attitude and actions, but Byron and I remember her very well.”

“Lots of children have parents who don’t live up to the dream,” Jewel points out. “But they don’t take that as an excuse to treat everyone around them badly without the least bit of guilt.”

“I can’t deny that. But how many children watch their parents get killed right before their eyes?”

“Wait! What do you mean?”

When Jewel takes my hand. I’m aware she’s trying to comfort me, even if she doesn’t realize she’s doing it. It’s a start, a start I’ll take.

“My mother decided she didn’t want to be with my father any longer. And she didn’t want anything to do with my brothers and me. So she hatched a plan to have my father killed. Because her sons were nothing to her, she wasn’t worried about the fallout. If we got hurt or killed in the shuffle, so be it. She could garner more attention at the loss of children than simply the loss of a husband. That’s how that evil hag thought.”

“That’s insane. There’s no possible way anything like that can happen,” Jewel exclaims, her fingers tightening on my hand.

“It did happen, Jewel. I’ve told you more than once that the world isn’t black and white. People aren’t always who they’re supposed to be.”

“I’m sorry, Blake. I really am. Please tell me what happened.”

“My mother was seeing a man, and she told him that if he killed her husband, she’d marry him and share the vast fortune her husband would leave behind. Apparently, the man she was seeing knew she was as big a liar with him as she was with my father. He somehow found out her ultimate plan was to play the victim, throw him to the cops, and run off into the sunset with all of her hundreds of millions of dollars, the money she’d get in my father’s will. Her lover told her he was going along with her plan, but the entire time, he had his own agenda. He might not have been smart, but he was angry as hell.”

“What were his plans?” Jewel asks.

“I was ten when it happened. My brothers and I were watching a movie in the family room when we heard shouting in the hallway. We ignored the noise — it wasn’t abnormal to hear raised voices in our house. We turned up the volume and continued watching our cartoon.”

“But this shouting was different,” Jewel says when I pause for too long.

“Yes, this shouting was different. Suddenly, these two guys came into the room, and they were pushing my parents ahead of them. Before we knew what was going on, they had each of my parents tied to a chair, and then they bound us, and set us on the couch. I’ll never forget the look in my mother’s eyes. They were practically glowing with excitement. I thought it had to be some sort of game because she looked anything but worried.”

“How could she not be worried?” she asks. “These men bound her.”

“Yes, but you see, that was all a part of the plan. She couldn’t get away unscathed, or the cops would never buy her story. My mother’s sick and twisted setup was to have her boyfriendrapeher and then kill her husband. And this plan included us,” I say with a disgusted snort, “because we had to be witnesses to what happened, so when the cops asked, we could say the men hurt her too.”

I can see the horror in Jewel’s eyes, and she holds on to me so hard, her fingernails dig into my hand. Strangely enough, the pain stabilizes me enough to continue.

“Things obviously didn’t go the way my mother intended them to. She figured that out pretty fast, and that’s when I saw panic enter her eyes. Her boyfriend told her he knew she was a sadistic bitch, someone out to get anything she could. He told my father and us her entire plot. My dad was weak. He started sobbing, and begged the men to spare his life. They were amused. They began beating him, and his blood splashed across the room. Some of it landed on my mom, some even hit us.” I stop to catch my breath.

“Finally,” I continue, “our father passed out from the pain, and the men got tired of wasting their energy on him. One of the guys looked right into my eyes and smiled while saying, “Take this as a life lesson kid. If you let a woman screw you, this is how you’ll end up.” Then he put his gun against my father’s temple and pulled the trigger. My mother screamed as my dad’s brains splattered over the side of her face.”

“Oh my gosh, Blake,” Jewel whispers, and she’s now sobbing.

I have to look away from her. I’ll never finish my story if I focus on the sympathy in her eyes. And Ineedto finish.

“My mother thanked the man, then she begged for her life, just like my father had. He laughed at her while he ran the gun up and down her face. He told her if she pleased him really well, he might let her live. The next hour was almost worse than any other part of the evening, because that’s exactly what she did, even as the sickening smell our father’s blood was filling the room. We closed our eyes, but we heard everything. The two men beat the hell out of my mother while doing unimaginable things to her at the same time. At one point I opened my eyes because she told them to go ahead and kill us too, that we would tell on them if they didn’t. She looked at me as she said it. Blood was dripping from her mouth, and all I saw was hatred in her eyes.” A strange tightness in my throat shocks me. Why should this upset me? I hate my mother and even hate my father. This story shouldn’t affect me anymore... but obviously it still does.

“Blake, oh, Blake, I’m so sorry,” Jewel says as she rises. Before I can stop her, she sits in my lap and wraps her arms around me.

The tightness in my throat grows harder to fight, but fight it I do. I need to keep talking, to get this over with. It’s several moments before I continue, and when I do, my voice is flat. I refuse to keep letting emotion overwhelm me.

“When the men grew bored, they shot my mother in the head and left her lying on the floor, then threw my father over her. I’ll never forget the sight of my parents’ blood seeping from their bodies. To this day I won’t own red carpet.” Jewel isn’t impressed by my attempt at a joke.

“Don’t do that, Blake. Don’t try to make light of this to show how strong you are. I know you’re strong, I get it, but there are some things no one’s strong enough to deal with... and this qualifies.”

I nod. “They didn’t even look at us again before they turned and walked away. My mother had given the staff the day off, because she didn’t want adult witnesses, so my brothers and I spent the whole night tied to the couch in a room with our dead parents. When the maid came in the next day, she found us and called the police.”

“But every time you close your eyes, it’s like being right back there, isn’t it?” Jewel asks.

“Not every time, Jewel... not since meeting you,” I tell her.

“Blake...” she begins but I can tell she doesn’t know what to say.

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