The sad smile turned into a frown. “What?”
God, I wanted to pull the trigger. There would be something really satisfying about seeing his blood splatter on the oriental rug behind him. I thought hitting a target in a shooting range felt good. This would be a million times better. My father deserved to die.
But…he wasn’t supposed to be acting this way. He was supposed to be begging me for his life. Not dressed in a nightgown looking relieved to see me. He wasn’t even reacting to the gun at all. Which just made me angrier. Did he not think I was going to pull the trigger? Because I was. I lifted the gun higher.
“You’re not thinking clearly.” Miller’s words echoed around in my head. Clear as day. The memory of his voice a whisper in my ear. He’d told me that when I wanted to shoot the deer that was eating my Henry tomatoes. He knew I didn’t really want to shoot an animal. But then he’d convinced me to learn how to use a gun just in case there was a real threat. My father wasn’t an innocent animal. He was a real, living, breathing threat. And maybe if I’d come back sooner…maybe if I’d confronted him after all these years…none of this would have happened. Miller would still be alive. I’d still be dancing with him in our kitchen right now.
I couldn’t stop my bottom lip from trembling. I couldn’t afford to think like that. I’d lived a life full of regret and heartache until I met Miller. He’d healed me. He’d reminded me what living felt like. And he deserved so much more than the end he’d gotten. I’m thinking clearly, Miller. I promise I’ve thought it through. I’m doing this for our family. I’m doing it for you.
“Is my grandson alive?” my dad asked. He took a step forward like he wanted to hug me.
I immediately took a step back. Did he not see my gun? Did he not realize that I was about to blow his fucking head off?
“Did my grandson make it?”
I finally registered his words. And it felt like he’d slapped me. He knew he had a grandson. He knew it. I wasn’t sure how he’d found out about Jacob. But he was definitely only pretending to care about Jacob’s safety. If he cared about his grandson, he wouldn’t have blown up my fucking car and tried to kill all of us. Jacob could have been in there. I could have lost him too. If Jacob had put on his shirt right away like I always nagged him to do…I could have lost him.
The gun shook in my hand again. I almost lost everything. Every single piece of me. Because of my father.
“Please tell me that my grandson made it,” he said. “And did Miller?”
Like he didn’t fucking know. “Don’t say another word.” He was just trying to throw me off. I wanted to tell my dad to get on his knees. To put his hands behind his head. And repent for his sins. To me. And my family. To Miller. But my damn hand wouldn’t stop shaking. I couldn’t shoot him like this. When he looked sad and ridiculous. And when his actions made a million questions run through my head. “Could you…change? Or put something over that?” It would be easier to kill him when he looked more composed. I’d been envisioning him how he used to be in my head. That’s how I would get this done. One of his freshly pressed suits would be more fitting.
He looked down at his nightgown. “My goodness, yes, come in, come in.” He pushed the door ajar and stepped to the side. “I can’t believe I opened the door in just my nightshirt again. My robe is in my office.” He started walking toward the closed doors, without a care in the world, not at all concerned by the gun pointed to the back of his head.
“Stop,” I said. I wasn’t going to let him go in there and grab his own gun. Or alert his staff with the press of a button. Wait, where was his staff? The foyer was empty. And everything was eerily silent. I looked up the stairs. I expected to feel something being back in this haunted apartment. But I just felt numb. Like I knew I’d be paralyzed if I let my past seep in. Because the last time I was in this foyer Matt had called me a liar.
Just the thought of Matt standing here made me feel claustrophobic. My chest started to feel like it was tightening. I shook away the thought of Matt. I was not going to have a panic attack right now. I needed to be in control. And I needed to get the hell out of this foyer. “I’ll get your robe,” I said.
“It’s just on my chair in there.”
Seriously, why wasn’t he reacting to having a gun pointed in his face? The idea that he wasn’t taking me seriously pissed me off. I opened up the office door. There was a robe draped over the back of his desk chair. I grabbed it and my hand froze.
There were pictures of me on his desk. And not just of me. Pictures of me with Miller out on the dock. Pictures of me with Jacob in the garden. Pictures of all three of us playing in the grass. How did my father get these?
They didn’t look like they were far away. But they were all from the same angle of the back of our house. An angle that could easily be captured from across the lake with an expensive lens. Hidden in the trees. Where I’d kept thinking I saw someone. I hadn’t been imagining it. Someone had been watching us. My dad had been watching us. Or someone he’d hired. Had he known where I was the whole time? Plotting how to ruin my life again? For how long?
These pictures didn’t look like they were taken for nefarious reasons though. They’d captured moments of joy from my life over the past several years. Tears ran down my cheeks as I stared at Miller smiling. I loved his smile. Especially when it was directed at me. I loved him so much. And I was never going to get to see him or his smile again. I was never going to hear his laugh. Or dance around the kitchen with him. I quickly wiped the tears off my cheeks.
God, I couldn’t be weak right now. I had to hold it together for just a few more minutes. For Miller. And for Jacob. I was doing this for them. I clenched my jaw. I could do this. I knew I could.
But I froze again when my eyes landed on a picture of Miller and me in the backyard. I remembered that day. I’d just gotten back from a run and he’d finished building my planters. I was in his arms and he was twirling me around.
That was really early on. Years before Jacob was born. And it kind of answered my question of how long my father had been watching me. I was pretty sure it was the whole freaking time. Another picture caught my eye. Miller was holding baby Jacob in one arm and his other arm was slung around me out on the dock. Our feet were bare, dangling in the water. The picture embodied our life there.
I’d left everything behind after the explosion. All my pictures. Every single one except for the few on my phone. I needed this one. Miller’s smiling face tucked against my chest would somehow help. Right? I was willing to try anything at this point. I pulled the picture out of the frame and tucked it into my coat. I would have taken all of them, but I heard a noise in the foyer.
I rushed out of my father’s office. He was just standing there calmly, still not a care in the world about my gun.
Had he already alerted someone? Was that why he was so calm?
“Where’s your phone?” I asked.
“On my bedside table.”
I didn’t know whether or not to believe him. But it didn’t matter. This was all about to be over. “Put this on.” I threw his robe at him.
He pulled it on, but it didn’t help. If anything it made him look more ridiculous. The silk robe was shorter than his nightshirt. So it just looked like he was wearing a double-layered dress. And his stupid little hat made the whole thing more humorous. How was I supposed to shoot him when he looked like that?