Authors: H Elliston
No. Wait. This is lies... but... he’s been with her tonight?
Claire sneered wickedly at me, clearly enjoying my shock and discomfort.
“If Christa dies, we can’t be together,” Brian said. “She’s like a sibling to me. You know what that’s like, right? So to shoot her, you’ll have to shoot through me. Give me the gun.”
Silence, like ice, froze the room.
I glanced nervously over Brian’s shoulder at Dale half-cut and slumped on the floor, and at Claire waving the gun.
“Bullshit,” Dale said, his face screwing up with pain. “He doesn’t love you at all, Claire. He’s playing you. Shoot ‘em both and let’s get out of here.”
Brian opened his arms to her. “We have to move, she called the cops.”
Claire looked from Brian to Dale, weighing things up.
Brian nudged me and whispered, “Go.”
“W-hat?” I said.
“Go. Now. Go to Sarah.” He nudged me again then said to Claire, “Let’s go back to your place and finish what we started.”
Tears streamed down my cheeks. I didn’t want to leave Brian but... I backed up to the wardrobe.
Claire bit her bottom lip, took a step closer to Brian and lowered the gun.
Dale kicked her. “Rachel, snap out of it.”
“Rachel?” Brian choked out.
“Yeah,” Dale said. “That’s her real name.” He faced her again. “Brian doesn’t want you, and he’d want you even less if he knew the truth.” For a moment, his words deadened the room. Claire glared at him so hard it was obvious Dale had hit a nerve.
“Truth?” Brian said. “What truth? There’s more?”
He grunted then raised his eyes to Brian. “You’re Sarah’s father.”
My breath rushed out in a cough.
Brian looked at me and froze. Shock broke across his face.
Did we hear that right?
Claire’s hand flew out to silence Dale. “You idiot!”
Dale let out a light, sickening laugh. “Jeez! You people are so dumb.” A triumphant smile crossed Dale’s face before pain washed it out. He lay there, half lucid, bleeding into the carpet. “Brian definitely won’t want you now, sis.”
Brian snapped unfrozen. Grinding his jaw left to right, his gaze shot back to Claire. “W-wait... How? Why? Is this true?”
“Of course not,” I said against his shoulder.
How can it be?
I felt sick.
He glanced back at me. “You said it was impossible.”
I clawed his top. “It is. The dates... Steph... she’s a nurse. She said there was no way that...” Tears trickled and I bit my lip in thought. But why would Dale even think to make that up?
Claire waggled the gun at me, then looked down at Dale, the distortion in her face answered my question.
Oh, heck. My stomach dropped like a free-falling elevator.
“Steph manipulated you,” Dale said, glowering at me. “She lied, covered it up, and the slack cow doesn’t even know what she’s done.”
Claire looked at Brian and tilted her head to one side. “Babe, don’t listen to him.” She glared down at a pale and clammy-faced Dale. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“Because, dear sister, your head’s stuck in cuckoo land. Brian will never be yours. You won’t believe me, so I had to find a way for you to see it for yourself, in his face.” He scowled at Brian. “He’s a liability. He knows too much, shoot him now and help me out of here.”
Tears spilled down Claire’s face as her pained eyes sought Brian’s.
“I’ll take care of you, like I always do,” Dale said. “Shoot ‘em. Do it Claire. Do it now.”
“No,” she cried. “I-I can’t.”
Brian and I glanced at each other, trying to gauge if we could get the gun.
Just as I heard sirens in the distance, Claire and Dale launched into an animated argument, exchanged insults, and Claire dropped the gun.
This was our chance.
Just do it, Christa.
I stepped out from behind Brian, steeled myself to dive for the gun, but...
Dale rolled over and grabbed it. Death waved our way once again. I screamed and ducked. Claire knocked Dale’s arm. Air whooshed over my head and a bullet slammed into the wardrobe door above me.
Brian dropped to the floor and wrapped his arms over my head.
Claire snatched the gun and squirmed out of Dale’s leg hold. She kicked him in the stomach. His head hit the wall and he heaped into stillness on the blood-stained carpet.
Claire tripped and fell onto the bed.
“Trust me,” Brian said. He pulled me to my feet, put his palm on my chest and pushed.
I stumbled into the wardrobe, banging the back of my legs on the chair.
Swinging the gun blindly, Claire staggered off the bed and gulped air. “Brian? Brian?”
“I’m here, babe. I’m not going anywhere.” He turned to me. Brows bunched low over panicked eyes, he mouthed, ‘run’.
I reached a hand out. “Come with me.”
“Brian?” Claire’s voice was louder than a banshee. Eyes filled with tears and off balance, she aimed the gun my way. “If you’re messing with me, I’ll put a bullet in her head.”
Scared, I shrank back.
In a tone ripe with distaste, he said, “I’m not.”
Sarah.
Her sweet face flashed into my mind, pulling on me. I stood the chair upright, stepped on it and raised myself up and through the loft hatch. Sobbing, I scrambled along the boarded floor with just enough moonlight to see my way. Brian didn’t follow. I climbed out of the skylight. Cold air hit me as I dropped to the flat snowy roof, landing on my weak ankle. I cried out. Clutching my foot, I looked up, waiting.
Please, Brian, get out of there.
The sirens blared louder now, the police were here.
Hurry.
A shot rang out through the dark night.
“Brian!”
CHAPTER 32
CHRISTA
FIVE DAYS LATER
Holding Sarah’s hand, I walked up to my front door. “Brian was lucky,” I said to my cousin, Brad, on the phone. “I heard he’s out of hospital.”
“You could say that. The bullet went through his arm, didn’t it?”
“Yes. A flesh wound, but it must have really hurt.” I unlocked the door and signalled Sarah to enter the house.
She bit her lip and looked up at me.
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” I struggled to banish the horrid memories from my own head, let alone hers. “Nicola’s inside with Dave.” I squeezed her hand. “Let’s go in and say hello.”
She found a smile and entered the hall.
Seeing the way my daughter handled everything made me a very proud mum.
As I walked over the threshold, I shuddered but tried to hide it. It had been days since the attack, but despite my nerves, I was more than delighted to escape my parents’ spare room and return home. All the cameras had been removed, the men were locked in a cell somewhere far away, and we’d come through this horror without losing any of the people we cared for. “Can I phone you back later?” I asked Brad. “Or better still, pop round for a drink, if you like.”
“Ummm... I’ll think about it. I’m kinda driving someone somewhere.”
“Then you shouldn’t be on the phone.”
“It’s hands free.”
“Okay. Speak soon.”
“See ya.”
I dropped my phone into my handbag and made my way into the kitchen. Nicola was chatting to Dave, whose arms were tightly wrapped around her waist.
Ooh, things have stepped up.
Nicola spotted us, her eyes crinkled and sparkled. She looked lovely in a navy, belted jumpsuit. She wore just enough makeup to accentuate her eyes, and her hair flowed loose around her shoulders with a single plait across her fringe. “Hey there, stranger.” Sarah ran over and cuddled her. Nicola grabbed her chin and teasingly squeezed. “Ooh... I missed you.” She glanced across to me and mouthed, ‘you too. A lot.’
Smiling, I set my handbag on a worktop and wandered over to fill the kettle. “What you up to?”
“Well.” Nicola winked at Sarah. “Figured celebrating your mum’s birthday was way overdue. Wanna help me decorate this cake?” She lowered her voice and said with a giggle, “Dave’s not really any good at this stuff.”
I grinned at him. “Makes two of us.”
He smiled. “How you doing?”
“Better. Thanks. Pleased to be home.” I set the kettle to boil.
“Oh no, you don’t.” Nicola grabbed a bottle of bubbly, poured a glass and handed it to me.
I frowned. “Can you afford this?”
A smirk played on her lips. “It’s just cheap fizz. Probably tastes of vinegar and soap, but we can pretend, right?”
I nodded and sipped it.
Hmmm... probably tastes better on the second glass.
Sarah went to the sink to wash her hands.
“Good girl,” Nicola said.
The doorbell rang. I turned and flinched.
Dave walked past me and touched my shoulder. “Relax. I’ll get it.” He left the room.
Nicola shook icing sugar into a bowl. “I invited a few people.”
“Who?”
“You’ll see.” She dropped a few nobs of butter in and let Sarah mix it.
“Come here,” I said, and pulled Nicola into a hug. “God, I’ve missed you. How you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been on a spin cycle in a washing machine.”
“Get your tooth fixed?”
“Nah. I’d need an implant. It’s a back one so no one will see it’s missing. Oh, God, I’m just happy to be alive and at home again.”
“Me too,” I whispered into her hair. “And it is, you know,
your
home too, for as long as you want. I meant every word.”
Footsteps tapped into the kitchen.
“Look who I found,” Dave said.
I released Nicola and gaped, speechless. My cousin Brad entered the kitchen saying hello, followed by... oh, God, it was Brian.
“Did you invite him?” I whispered to Nicola.
“Yes.”
Wha-t?
I drew level with her. “But I thought you wanted to rip his head off.”
“For dumping you? Yeah, I did. But that was before.”
“Before what?”
“I was wrong. You should talk to him.”
Brian was silent at first. We exchanged smiles in an awkward, don’t-hold-eye-contact way.
“You still like him, right?” Nicola whispered.
“No.”
Of course I did.
But too much had bludgeoned cracks into my romantic thoughts. I’d gotten over him once, I could do it again.
As I stepped away from Nicola, he unzipped his coat and waggled his mobile phone at me. “Anytime now,” he said, as I realised he meant the paternity results.
A cough bust out of my throat.
Oh, crikey.
“Nicola invited me, and Brad drove. I hope that’s okay.”
I nodded and gulped. “Y-yeah. Of course.” I’d expected him to message me, not turn up. What the heck was Nicola thinking?
“Thought you’d want us to be together when we get the-” He mouthed the word ‘results.’
Of course.
I coughed and glanced away. “Absolutely.” Oh, crikey. Mixed emotions surged through me. I wanted him here, yet didn’t.
Why is life so freakin’ complicated?
“You okay?” Brad asked, rubbing my back.
I prodded him. “You could have told me you were coming round here.”
He laughed. “Couldn’t resist the surprise. Nicola invited me.” He glanced her way, winked and smiled.
Yes. He definitely had a thing for her. I frowned, hoping Dave hadn’t seen.
“And she asked me to pick Brian up. He’s not meant to drive yet.”
“Of course.” I noticed Brian staring at me from the corner of his eye as he removed his coat and straightened his black t-shirt. The bandage over his bullet wound covered a large part of his bicep. I wondered if it was still sore. “It seems she sent out a whole load of invites,” I mumbled. The last time I saw Brian was in the hospital five days ago when we’d agreed to do a DNA test. Sarah roughly knew what it was for when we swabbed the inside of her cheek, but I’d tried to deflect it. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that Brian could be her dad, didn’t want to get her hopes up in case it came back as ‘no match’.
“Thanks for clearing my house up this morning,” I said to Brad. “I really appreciate it.”
“Anything for my favourite cousin.”
I moved away from him and sunk back into thought. Brian’s knowing many influencial people certainly came in handy this week. However he managed it, the lab put a rush job on the test and agreed to email him the results rather than make us wait another day for them to arrive by post.
We didn’t really talk about anything in depth when I visited him at hospital, on account of Sarah being with me. And I had no idea how to act around him. I’d be eternally grateful for Brian taking a bullet for me, but... but he’d broken up with me by text, and got it on with Claire the evening she decided she wanted me dead. I didn’t know how I felt. Hurt and disappointment were somewhere in the mix. Beneath this still flickered a longing for him.
I took a deep breath and played with a strand of hair. Like he’d said to Claire, we were like siblings. Yes, that’s how I had to deal with this. Treat him like a brother; close, but platonic. He’d been confused because he wanted to be a bigger part of Sarah’s life, and saw me as the gatekeeper. Determined, for Sarah’s sake, to reform some civility, and regardless of the emotional judge and jury in my head, I met his eyes and forced myself to smile. “How’s your arm?”
He flexed it. “On the mend. Thanks. How have you been?”
“Pretty good, you know... considering.”
His lips pressed into a line of understanding. “Yeah. Just wish I could have...”
I half-smiled and glanced away, struggling to hold eye contact.
Nicola handed glasses of bubbly out, then raised hers. “Okay guys. So let’s make a toast to John, a fresh start, to coming home, and to hopefully...” She grinned at me.
I stiffened and mouthed, ‘Don’t say it.’ Jeez, don’t mention the test.
She pointed her glass at me and jutted her chin up. “And I was about to say, happy belated birthday, Christa.”
My shoulders relaxed.
She’s a tease.
I laughed.