Текст книги "Shards of Us"

Автор книги: K Caverly

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

But that isn't what I'm looking at.

My eyes immediately lock on a man and a woman sitting at a small table at the end of the room, with the sliding glass door swung open, letting in buckets of icy air from outside. They're both holding red wine glasses and looking out into the distance.

My heart pounds furiously. This is the couple Sebastian saved, I realize. These two are the reason Marco is after us. They are what made all of this happen. I take a step forward, my head throbbing.

And then I guess they hear me, because all of a sudden, the couple turns around, ever so slowly.

I recognize them immediately. I recognize everything from the woman's wispy dark hair to the man's thick-rimmed glasses to the warm brown in both of their eyes. I recognize the brown suit the man wears, and the little black dress the woman has on.

I recognize them, and then I feel everything come crashing down.

"Mom?" I whisper, unable to believe my eyes. "Dad?"

"Good to see you again, Crystal," they say in unison.

Chapter Seventeen

Everything seems to slow in that instant. All of the air is sucked out of my lungs, and I look back between Sebastian and my parents, shaking all over. This can't be happening. This can't be.

My parents can't be alive.

They can't be alive and in Sebastian's house.

This doesn't make any sense.

I start shaking my head too, not daring believing that any of this is real. This must be a dream. Or a nightmare. Or something. I don't know what but this cannot. be. freaking. real. "No no no no," I say to myself, biting back tears.

My parents are dead. Dead. Because if they're alive… then, well, all of the pain of the last two years has been for nothing. Every time I felt hopeless and alone, it was for nothing. Jumping off that building two years ago and losing my ability to dance, it was for nothing.

Mom and Dad are standing up now, walking toward me, small smiles on their faces. Two years of pretending to be dead, and all they can manage to do is smile.

They look different than before, though. Older, I think. Their faces are more wrinkly, paler even, and in general somewhat… off. They don't look as warm as they used to be. Their expressions look fake, look wrong somehow, and as they approach me, I find myself backing away, my hands trembling at my side.

No no no.

They can't be alive.

They just can't be.

It doesn't make any sense.

I back so far out of the room that I crash into Sebastian's warm and muscular body. I stumble, losing my balance, but he catches me. His arms go around my waist, drawing me toward him, protecting me. "I'm sorry, angel," he whispers, trying to keep me together. "I'm so sorry."

My hands are trembling, but I let him hold me. Mom stops walking at the door. Frowns at me. Gives me that same disappointed kind of look she always used to give me when I was younger. "I've been waiting for you, Crystal," Mom says, taking a sip of her red wine. Her brown eyes seem warm and heartfelt, but I sense the coldness behind them, the usual silent manipulation. That's the thing about my mom: she wants something. She alwayswants something. I try my best to paint my parents in the best possible light after their death, to tell myself that I loved them, that I was happy with them, because that always made things easier to deal with. Facing the truth was far, far worse. It hurt too much to remind myself that my parents were horrible to me, to remember how they abandoned me and made me miserable all those years, and the only time they paid any attention to me was when they needed something from me.

But still, I clung to them, because I had no one else to cling to.

And when they died, I felt so bad I never told them I loved them, felt so guilty over all of the things I never did, but now that I find out they've been alive all along… well, the rage has started boiling inside of me.

Sebastian tries to wrap me up deeper into his arms, but I push him away. My body is still shaking, and I can't deal with this. I can't deal with the betrayal. This could be the one thing worse than Sebastian killing my parents: him keeping them alive without telling me.

And them going along with it.

I look into my mom's eyes, so full of false care, and I just want to scream. They have no idea how much they hurt me. They have no idea how leaving me in the dust like they did, and Sebastian covering it up, as he said so himself, left me more alone than ever before. Made me so depressed I almost fucking died, and not to mention lost the one thing in my life I cared about more than life itself: dancing.

But they don't realize that. My parents look at me like I'm supposed to be happy to see them again, when really all I feel is rage, hot and thick, bubbling up from somewhere deep inside of me.

Sebastian is the only one who understands me enough to notice that. He stares at me with such intensity, his face filled with a thousand apologies, but I can't even look at him right now.

"So you caused this," I say to my mom in a low voice, clenching my fists at my side. "You're the reason those men almost killed me. You're the reason Marco is after us."

Mom sighs and glances back at Dad, looking for backup, like I'm back in middle school and we're arguing about some stupid shit again. It's sad, how our relationship has never grown beyond the push-and-pull of my middle school years.

"Why don't we sit down?" Dad says quickly, sensing the tension in the air, but I won't have it.

"Answer me," I say harshly, my eyes trained on my mom. "Are you the reason Marco is after us?" I swear my head is about to explode, but all I feel is fiery, exhilarating fear coursing through my veins.

"Angel," Sebastian says behind me. "Please. Let's talk about this, all right?" His voice is quiet and soothing, and it would normally work on me, but not today.

"Shut up, Sebastian," I hiss, not even looking back at him.

I can feel his anger at my words by the way his stare gets three million times as intense, but he doesn't push it. He knows me well enough to leave me be.

I keep my gaze focused on my mom. I'm biting my lip so hard that blood is trickling out, but I don't even care. "Well? Are you? Answer me, Mom! It's the least you can fucking do after all this time," I yell, eyes burning into hers.

She sighs as if pretending she's been dead for the last two years has been some sort of inconvenience, like having to do the laundry when you're tired. Bile rises in my throat at that, and I just keep glaring at her, hands tensing at my side.

She sighs. "I never meant to hurt you, you know."

"But you did," I say. My head starts pounding. "Tell me why, Mom," I whisper. "Tell me what's going on."

She looks at me sadly. "It's a long story, hun."

"Mom," I hiss. My heart pounds faster, and I just let all of the rage pour out of me, my tongue hurting from the intensity in my words. "You pretended to be dead for two goddamn years. I almost died because of you! The least you can do is tell me why."

She takes a breath, leaning against the threshold of the door and shaking her head. She glances back at Dad, who comes up behind her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "It's time," he says, and then they both look at me.

Fear clings to me in that moment, because suddenly, I question whether I really want to know.

I mean, my parents are still alive.

My parents are still. freaking. alive.

I should be happy about it, that's for sure. I should be thrilled to see them again. But I can't be. I can't bring myself to feel anything but hurt. I've spent so much of my life totally alone because of them, and these last two years, every single shred of misery I felt was because I thought they'd been murdered, thought they'd left the world. My life felt so painfully empty at the time, and now I find out it was all a lie. It was all because my parents just… what? They felt like it? They up and decided to abandon their daughter and let her spiral into depression and not even give a fuck?

I grit my teeth, clenching a fist. I'm done making excuses for them.

Mom sighs again. "Crystal, sit down. We need to talk."

"No," I hiss. All of the rage, the fear, and the loneliness of the last years rise up, and it feels good to let it out, to let the pain pour out of me. "Tell me now, Mom. Tell me or I'm leaving."

I start to turn away, too, pushing past Sebastian, wanting to just get out of here, but Mom stops me. "Okay!" she says quickly. "Okay." A breath. "Okay." I turn around, glaring at her, waiting for her to continue, but she seems to be struggling.

"We aren't sports agents, Crystal," Dad says for her, stepping in front of her.

I grit my teeth harder now, working to keep my expression unfazed. "What?" I hiss. Of course they're sport agents. That's why they have so much money. That's why they're always traveling. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Dad says, looking at me sadly. "We're… consultants of sorts, Crystal." He locks eyes with mine. "We work for a drug cartel."

Everything stops then. My whole body feels like it shuts down. My heart sinks.

They work for a drug cartel.

My parents work for a fucking drug cartel.

All those times they were traveling, they weren't going to client meetings like they said. They were helping people sell drugs.

I clench my hand into a fist so hard that it starts whitening, but I don't even care. I'm fuming now, and I can feel the rage pulsing through me. My jaw gets tenser and tenser, but I keep my glare trained on my parents.

"We worked for Marco's competition," Dad continues. "We were logistics people, basically. The husband and wife duo. We helped them plan their transport of drugs, designed where they'd be and when, helped them find the drugs they needed and gave them price points to sell it at, and… well, we did whatever we could to make sure their system worked. We helped them do what they had to do. And sometimes, that meant helping them… dispose of the competition."

"You helped them kill people?" I whisper. My hand is shaking now. None of this makes any sense. First they're alive, and now I learn they worked for drug dealers. They're worse than Sebastian, and they don't even seem remorseful about it, don't even seem to care how much it all affects me.

The rage continues to build up inside of me, and suddenly I just want to scream. Want to run away and never come back. I hate this. I hate all of this. I hate everything that's been happening to my life–everyone, but Sebastian. He is the one who sees through my pain, who loves me for who I am. He's my shard of happiness, hidden and buried, and now, finally, in front of me.

But he's been keeping things from me. Things that may be too much for us.

"Yes," Dad says slowly. "Sometimes we needed to kill people. But it was all for good reason, remember that. These people deserved to die. They were bad and we got rid of them. It was just part of the job. You can understand that, can't you, Crystal?"

I keep shaking my head, not believing any of this. Dad's and Mom's gaze are sad and distant, but not compassionate. They hardly even care, especially not about the fact that I'm standing here, trembling all over.

Sebastian whispers, "It's okay, angel. It's okay" behind me but it doesn't help. I'm too shaken up and furious that both my parents and Sebastian would betray me like this.

"I don't understand," I whisper, trying to keep my voice from cracking. "I'll never understand you."

"Honey, I'm your mother," Mom cuts in, putting down her wine glass and taking a step toward me. "I'm here for you, okay? I'm just trying to do the right thing."

"And where were you these last two years?" I scream. "Or if we're getting technical, these last twenty-two years of my life? Because you were nowhere, Mom. You left me. You almost got me killedbecause of what you did. You didn't even warn me." My voice falters. Tears burn at my eyes, but I try to stay strong, try to keep it together. I won't let them see me weak. Not ever.

Mom winces at that. "I know," she says. "I know. And I'm sorry."

"Stop it," I say. "Just stop pretending."

She raises her eyebrow in surprise, but I can see right through her. I know she's just trying to manipulate me. She's alwaystrying to manipulate me. I'm her own child, and all she sees me as is some chess piece, some stupid little doll that she can toss away and then retrieve whenever she needs something from it. From me. Mom opens her mouth to argue, probably spit out another fake, half-assed apology, but Dad beats her to it.

"To answer your original question," Dad says, "yes, we're the reason Marco is after you and Sebastian. It's also the reason we... pretended to be dead." His brown eyes stay on mine. My head keeps throbbing, and suddenly I'm not sure I want to know anymore. "It was all because Marco, though, Crystal. He had a son. And the cartel we worked for… well, they asked us to plan a way to kill this son. He was not a good person," Dad adds quickly. "He deserved what he got. He was hurting innocent people and we needed to get rid of him. Anyway, so we planned the killing as we always did. Our boss asked us to map out the details, and when we got them for him, he asked us to accompany the hit squad–just in case. So we did. It was just a formality, though, because Marco's son was supposed to be all alone in his house at the time. It was supposed to be a quick job. Get in. Kill him. Get out. But… well, it wasn't." Dad looks at Mom, then back at me. "Our hit team died, Crystal. All of them did. We were waiting in are cars when the explosion went off. Apparently, the door had been booby trapped, and so the second they stepped inside, that was that. Your mom and I, we started to race out of there and abort the mission as we were supposed to in case anything went wrong, but then we saw Marco's son running out of the building, still alive but totally alone, and we looked at each other and knew what we had to do. And so we killed him," Dad continues without a hint of remorse. "Shot once in the head. He was dead in a second. And then we left. Marco has been out for revenge against us as soon as he found out we pulled the trigger, and we've lived these last two years in hiding because of it."

"But remember, his son deservedto die," Mom adds. I turn to her. Her voice is sharp and condescending, and her eyes are filled with annoyance as she places her wine on the table beside her. "I'm telling you, Crystal, we did nothing wrong. Look at all those men he killed. Look at all the bad things he did. Look at what he could've done as Marco's successor to our rival cartel. We helped people, Crystal. Don't forget that. We helped people because we killed his son, and so he needed to die."

My whole body is shaking. I can't believe this. I can't believe any of this.

My parents are still alive.

My parents work for a cartel.

My parents are murderersand they don't even regret it. Not like Sebastian does.

"Why do you get to decide if someone deserves to die?" I whisper. The rage keeps on boiling inside of me, white hot and passionate. "What makes you any better than Marco's son, if you killed him in cold blood?"

"Crystal–" Mom starts, the same infuriating disappointment in her voice. "You don't know what you're saying."

I throw my head back and laugh, annoyed. "Really? Because I think I know what I'm saying more than I ever have before."

"No." She steps forward. "You don't. We aren't bad people, Crystal. We're just trying to do what's right, so we can provide for you."

"You've never cared about me," I hiss. My head is throbbing so hard I swear it's about to explode.

"Crystal–"

"Just tell me what happened next!" I scream. My throat is so strained that the raw skin is sore and biting, and all of the rage and the tears and the pain from the last years keeps bubbling up inside me, unleashed on the two people who caused all this.

"Okay," Mom says quietly, that innocent look in her eyes. My hands clench. I've always hated that look. I've always hated how she pretends to be innocent, to be the good guy, when we all know she is anything but it. "So Marco hated us," she continues, "for what we did to his son. For a few weeks after, we left the country, telling you it was just another business trip and we'd be back soon. We were… desperate, I guess. And scared. We knew that he'd be after us, that he'd know who was behind it and want revenge, and so we fled. But he didn't actually find us until he sent his hitman after us once we returned home." I feel Sebastian stiffen beside me, and suddenly it all makes sense. My stomach constricts, because I know and dread what she's about to say. "Sebastian was the hitman," she says quietly. "He knew we'd have to come home to you sooner or later, so he waited outside our house, he told us, for several days. He followed you around to make sure you weren't secretly meeting with us, and when we finally came home from our trip, he was ready. You weren't there. And he… he was going to kill us. But he couldn't. Because of you, Crystal. He didn't want to kill your parents. So he took us with him, told us he would save us and fake our deaths but we had to run now, and when we asked where we'd go, he told us about this place… about his secret apartment. We've been living here in hiding ever since. We were too afraid to contact you, until last night when Sebastian told us you were here, and we made him let you go. We decided it was time that you know the truth." She drops her voice. "I'm sorry, Crystal. For everything."

My whole body keeps shaking. This can't fucking be real. I keep thinking they're lying to me or something, because there is no way Sebastian would betray me like this, would hide my parents from me even though he knew how much not having them hurt me. "But why did he save you because of me? He didn't even know who I was until a few months ago."

Sebastian steps forward, his eyes intense and fiery as ever. I turn to him. I feel the heat from his body pulsing throughout the room, making everything so much more intense, more real. He clears his throat before he speaks, looking oddly nervous. "I knew you, angel," he says in a rough voice. "I knew you long before you knew me. When I was following you to make sure you weren't secretly meeting with your parents, I… well… I became fascinated with you. I followed you to your dance recitals, and I watched from the bleachers. And I remember thinking how you were just so elegant. So beautiful and strong and innocent and graceful. I loved how you danced. I loved watching your body move. But more than that, I loved the peace it gave you, the confidence, because I knew how hard your life was without your parents around and yet… you still found peace. You amazed me, angel. You were so light and happy back then, and you made me want to be a better man. You made me regret who I was." Sebastian drops his voice, reaching out a hand to touch my hair again, but I back away, still shaking. No no no. No! No! No! "I fell for you when I was supposed to kill your parents. I'd always done my job without question before you, killing whoever Marco said to kill because he told me they were bad, that they needed to die, and I told myself it was right to kill them. But when the time came for me to pull the trigger on your parents, I just couldn't do it. I couldn't hurt you like that. I couldn't kill your own parents. I already loved you too much, and so, I let them go and dressed up two… earlier victims… to take their place. I risked my life all because of you, angel. And when Marco found out, he tried to kill me, but I got away just in time. I got this when the bullet clipped me." He points to the scar on his cheek, the one he's been so protective of. "I didn't have the guts to approach you until I saw you at that club a year and a half later, and I couldn't contain myself." He steps forward, dropping his head down, looking sadder than I've ever seen him before. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm so sorry."

I hold my breath. I feel like I'm dreaming, like none of this can be true. My whole body is shaking so hard and as I look between my parents and Sebastian, the only people I've ever trusted, I feel so painfully betrayed. My heart hurts and hurts, and the rage boils inside of me.

My parents are alive.

I lost dance because I thought they were dead.

I almost diedbecause I thought they were dead.

But they were just hiding the whole time.

And Sebastian saw it eating away at me, and still, he kept it from me.

They betrayed me. They all betrayed me.

My vision starts blurring, going in and out, and now I have nothing but anger left. I want to scream. I want to run away. I want to end this–somehow.

The man I love betrayed me.

Sebastian betrayed me.

The tears start pouring out now, racing like the beating of my heart, and I just keep shaking my head, backing away from Sebastian and my parents and toward the stairs.

"So you were behind all this?" I whisper to Sebastian, tears stinging at my eyes. "Their death almost cost me my life. It sure as hell cost me everything else. You saw how it hurt me and you did nothing. You–you–" My voice cracks then, more tears rushing out.

Sebastian's eyes flare up now, such an intense blue, and I feel them on me, feel their intensity, as he steps toward me. "You're right." His voice is low and rough still, but I see the passion building up, the love he doesn't know how to control. "I did see how it hurt you. And you know what? It fucking hurt me too. No, it killedme to see you hurt like that! But I couldn't tell you what I'd done… and what your parents had done. I was too scared. I was too scared it would hurt you even more. I–I made a judgment call. I'm–"

"Sorry?" I scream. "You're sorry? After lying to me all this time, keeping things from me like this, and jeopardizing my life so many times, all you are is sorry? You don't know what sorry means, Sebastian! You don't know what you have cost me!"

"But I do!" he shouts right back, stepping toward me and reaching out his hands, trying to wrap me up in his arms and make the pain go away like he always used to, but I just keep stepping back, not letting him, shoving him away with my hands. "I dounderstand your pain! I doknow what this cost you! That's the point, isn't it? I do know. I'm the only who is fucking broken as you are! I know you. And you know me. We were meant for each other, angel, don't you see? I screwed up, and I'm sorry. But I did it all for you. I did it because I loved you!" His eyes feel like they're on fire now and his face is red from shouting, but I feel something break inside of me. I don't know what it is–hope breaking? Happiness? Love? But whatever it is, it kills. It feels like a bullet, right to the heart. And I just keep shaking, taking a step down the stairs, then another, and another, still facing Sebastian.

I can't do this. I can't go on like this. I have to leave. I have to get away from here.

And then hits me.

What I need to do.

It hits me as I lock eyes with Sebastian's intense blue. It hits me, the memory, and I know I have no choice.

"But that's not enough," I whisper, my voice trembling. The intensity in Sebastian's face seems to shatter, and I see the ache of defeat, of hopeless, spread across his features. I see it because I know what it's like. The worst part is that I believe Sebastian despite myself. That something in his voice, something deep inside, makes me know with every part of me that he never meant to hurt me.

But I have to do this.

I can’t take being here anymore.

I have to end this, once and for all.

So I lock eyes with Sebastian, take a deep breath, and hiss, "I'm done, Sebastian. I'm done, for good. Them," I whisper, nodding to my parents. "Them, I can understand lying to me like that. Them, they never cared about me. Them, I wish were fucking dead after all the lies and pain they put me through. But you, Sebastian. I never expected you to betray me. I trusted you. I lovedyou! And this is what I get? The second I put my heart out there, entrust the shards of me with someone else, I just get it ripped away? My heart just gets shattered more than it already was? Was that your plan all along?" I scream, shaking all over. "Was your plan just to hurt me more than before?"

The genuine pain in Sebastian's eyes is almost unbearable. "Angel, please," he pleads, reaching out a hand to me one last time as I keep backing down the stairs, but I push it away, shaking my head. "You know that's not true."

"We're done, Sebastian," I whisper, tears streaming down my face as I take step after step down the stairs. "We're done."

Then I turn around altogether, squeezing my eyes shut to keep more tears from falling, and I sprint down the staircase, to freedom. All three of them watch me go, sad and crushed, but they don't stop me. My whole body screams with pain and confusion and betrayal, but I try to push it away, focusing on just taking step after step, even through my blurry eyes.

And then, once I reach the bottom floor, I remember what Marco said. If you ever change your mind about Sebastian, I'm always waiting at the dance studio.

And so I spin around to face Sebastian one last time, anger pulsing throughout my body. "So that's why Marco didn't kill me in that little supermarket. He wanted me to lead him right to my parents and you. And you know what?" I scream, my voice cracking through the tears as I start sprinting toward the door to get way away from here. "I will."