Just a Little Honesty (13 page)

“Anything.”

“I need you to let me come to you in my own time,” he said. “Not just about this, but about everything. I’ll talk when I’m ready to talk, but you can’t keep forcing yourself into situations where you don’t belong.”

“I only want to help—”

“I get that,” he said, nodding. “Truly, I do. But when you do that, when you weasel your way in, all you do is push people further away.” He looked back at the pots, pans, and down to the open cabinet doors. “I don’t want to talk about this. Not with you, not with a doctor, and not with a therapist. I want to deal with this on my own time and in my own way. I love you, Julie, but I’m
not
the only one here who has problems to work on.”

“But Luke—”

“Please,” he said, finally reaching forward to take my hand. “I’m not trying to push you away or shut you out. And I’m sure that’s how it feels. I
know
you want to know, and I
know
you want to help. I love you for that, but there’s a time and place for your insane, hovering, overbearing love.” He half-laughed and shrugged. “But you don’t
always
have to be in the center of everything, Julie. Sometimes it’s better not to know.”

I nodded, and Luke tightened his grip on my hand.

“Come here,” he said, pulling me closer. My head landed against his chest as he wrapped his arms around me and smothered me beneath his strong hold. “I love you, kid.”

“I love you, too,” I whispered, burying my face in my shoulder. After a few minutes of complete bliss in the arms of the man I loved, I summoned the strength to back away and nodded at the floor. “I’ll let you get back to that.”

He looked down and nodded, so I headed back for the bathroom. Just as I reached the threshold, I turned back to find Luke back on the floor and settling in to organize the cabinet once again.

“Hey Luke,” I said, immediately eliciting his stare. He lifted his brows and watched me curiously as I leaned in the doorway. “Thank you.”

“For what, kid?”

“Your honesty,” I said, and he barely smiled.

“Anytime.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Tuesday, April 09 | 11:00 p.m.

I left Luke to work on his task and retreated to the bathroom for my much-needed shower. I turned on the water, stripped my clothes to the floor, and kicked them to the corner. Once the water was at a perfect temperature—as hot as I could possibly stand it—I stepped into the tub and pulled the shower curtain closed.

I heard another loud crash in the kitchen as I started to rinse my hair.

I dropped my head and closed my eyes, knowing that Luke’s frustration was one he’d have to deal with on his own. He didn’t want my help, didn’t want me to interfere, and he wanted to handle it all on his own.

I had to respect that.

I lathered my hair into a big, soapy mess just as I heard the bathroom door click open, and the breeze from the doorway caused a small wave in the shower curtain.

“Luke,” I said, almost laughing as I tried to rinse the shampoo from my scalp.

“Hmm?”

“I think the next topic of discussion needs to be the little issue of recognizing boundaries.” The door shut with the tiniest click, and I scrunched my brow. “One of those boundaries, dear, is respecting my privacy while I’m in the shower.”

I paused and waited for him to answer, but the room stayed relatively quiet. I finished rinsing the shampoo away, wiped some bubbles from my face, and listened closer.

“Luke?” I asked, wringing my hair. “You still there?”

When he didn’t answer, I stepped out of the stream and pulled the shower curtain back, but only far enough to stick my head out.

But it wasn’t Luke’s stare that I met.

As I watched the cold blue eyes from the other side of the room, I felt as if I’d been punched in the stomach, as if some unknowable force had just ripped through my body and knocked the wind right out of me.

I tried to find my voice to yell for help, but all I could manage was a scream.

I’d come face-to-face with the one man I’d always prayed I’d never have to meet.

Conan Milton stood only feet away, his back leaning against the bathroom door, his arms folded at his chest, and one foot crossed in front of the other as he watched me with a playful grin.

I threw the shower curtain closed again and backed as far into the corner as I possibly could. My heart slammed against my chest, and for several long seconds, I seriously considered the fact that I may have a heart-attack right there in the shower.

Where was Luke? Why hadn’t he stopped Conan? Why wasn’t he forcing his way through the door to help me?

I screamed for Luke once again, but the scream barely left my body. I banged on the walls, praying that he would come for me, but I couldn’t hear anything outside the bathroom.

“Julie Little,” a baritone voice said slowly outside the shower, and I sank to the floor and held my knees against my naked chest.

I forced my hand over my mouth and tried to restrain my sobs, but nothing—not even the shower water—could curtail the sound of my cries.

“Just like your mother,” he said, and his voice was thick. “Beautiful
and
stupid.”

I dropped my face into my knees and cried, but I couldn’t tell which drops came from the shower head and which were my own tears. The water fell on me, pelting my body relentlessly as I sat bawling in the tub.

“If you’re going to kill me, please just kill me,” I heard myself whispering, and the faint echo of my words resounded through the room.

“I’m going to, sweetheart,” he said, and his assurance didn’t make me feel any better. “But I thought we could have a little heart-to-heart first.”

“Please, just kill me—”

“Can’t do
that
,” he said, and his voice only got closer. “Not just yet.”

I could hear his footsteps growing closer to the shower, but they stopped short of the curtain. I lifted my head and watched as his shadow hovered nearby, but then he sank down to sit on the toilet. After a few brief moments of silence, he cleared his throat. “You know what my favorite part of freedom is?”

I kept shaking—cold, though the water was hot—and I didn’t dare answer him. I rocked myself, praying for some kind of miracle, but every time I closed my eyes… I went right back to Luke.

Where was he?

I simply kept my head low and hoped that whatever was going to happen would just happen. I didn’t need the torture; I didn’t need to hear his voice. All I wanted was an easy out, and dying was about the only way that was going to happen.

I didn’t have some crazy notion that I needed to die a hero; I would’ve gladly died a coward. But with Conan Milton only inches away from me, all I really wanted was to
die
. I didn’t care what kind of label came with it.

“Freedom gives you the power of observation,” he answered. “It’s a beautiful thing. You get to hide away, watch people. You get to learn a lot about them just by studying their subtle movements. And I’ve been watching you, Julie,” he said, and I could hear a smile in his thick voice. “I’ve been watching you since the moment my son led me to this cabin yesterday. Now, he didn’t know it, but as luck would have it, he brought me right to you.”

I closed my eyes and tried picturing Derek’s face.

“I never wanted to hurt you, Julie,” he said, and for a moment I almost believed him. His voice didn’t sound as full of mockery as it had before, and it almost sounded sincere. But I had to remind myself that sincerity was easy to fabricate; liars weren’t just good at lying, they were masters at it. But for a moment—a very brief moment—I allowed myself to consider that maybe there
was
some good in him; everyone had potential for redemption, right?

But no sooner than I let the thought cross my mind, the sheer fact that I’d given him any kind of leniency made me sick to my stomach. He was the man who’d murdered my parents; he was the monster who’d taken everything away from me. Because of him…my life had been ripped apart piece by piece.

The wrenching pain only twisted itself deeper and deeper into my gut.

“Then why?” I asked, barely finding my breath between sobs. “If you never wanted to hurt me, then why are you doing this?”

“Ah, there she is,” he said, sounding as though it genuinely thrilled him to hear me talking back. “You see, Julie, I used to value family. I had this
thing
about blood and loyalty and… well, you went and screwed that up, sweetheart.”

I swallowed hard and then held my breath.

“Hannah was…God, what a disappointment. She could’ve killed you six months ago and ended this train wreck once and for all.”

“You can’t blame this on her,” I stammered. “This is you.
This is all you
—”

“Now, Julie,” he said, pretending to be hurt by my accusation. “That’s a little harsh, don’t you think? This isn’t
all
my fault. You could’ve just minded your own business; you could’ve stayed away from my family—”

“
Your family came to me
,” I said, no longer crying. I don’t know if the tears had completely drained, or if I’d just somehow gotten stronger. But I found myself steadily growing to my feet once again.

“And Hannah,” he said, letting out a slow sigh. “She had the right intentions; her heart was in the right place, she just didn’t have the best follow-through.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” I said, trying to find my nerve. “She nearly killed—”

“Luke,” he said, and he savored the word on his lips. “He’s a
feisty
one, huh?”

“Don’t hurt him,” I cried, and I prayed that my plea wasn’t too late. If Luke was anywhere nearby and still breathing, I couldn’t see how he wouldn’t do everything within his power to get to me. “Don’t—you—dare—hurt—him—”

“Relax,” he said, and his voice was slimy and wicked. “He’s still alive… for now. And he won’t feel a thing. In fact, the actual
death
part will probably be the silver lining after all is said and done.”

“You can’t hurt him!”

“Oh, honey,” he said, and his nerves never once came through in his tone. He was solid, steady. He wasn’t the least bit concerned that his plan might fall through. “Every time you open your mouth you hurt him a little more.” he continued. “Don’t forget I’ve been watching you, Julie. And I know—as well as I know the walls of the West Bridge Pen—that your world revolves around Officer Lucas Reibeck.” He let out a low sigh and then laughed. “I know how much your cousin and his little gal mean to you. But better yet, sweetheart, I know just how much
you
mean to all of them.”

I stood against the shower wall, pressing myself as far away from the curtain as possible. I kept praying that the walls would collapse, or that by some freak of nature, I’d suddenly gain the strength I needed to break through them myself. There was no way out… not without facing Milton… and not without dying.

“Your friends are all tied up,” he said, and it was another dagger straight through my heart. “Matt and Kara have been struggling for hours, but… Luke was the hard one. He rarely lets his guard down, you know? And I guess I should thank you for creating that little window of opportunity for me. You got to him; you got in his head. And that gave me a perfect opportunity to strike, Julie. So, they sit out there, and they wait—conscious, angry, and scared.”

“Please let them go—”

“No can do, sweetheart,” he said, and I heard him shuffling again. “They’re gonna hear every scream… they’re gonna hear you beg for your life, and they’re just gonna sit there…
helpless
.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Would understanding help you rest in peace, Julie?” he asked, and I could hear the mockery laced in his tone. He suddenly ripped the curtain back to face me, and the cold air rushed against my body.  I shivered, but I somehow managed to keep myself from faltering back down to the floor. “My son—God help him—fell in love with you. He chose
you
over his own flesh and blood, and if there’s one thing I
won’t
tolerate,” he said. “Is my son turning his back on
me
for
you
!”

“Derek is my
best friend
—”

“And that’s a problem, Julie,” he said, sneering. His golden hair was dirty and disheveled. A smudge of mud ran just below his right eye, and a bloodied gash stretched across his cheek. The time in prison hadn’t changed him much; he still bore his wicked grin, his cold eyes, and his devilish glare. “No son of mine is getting involved with a Little.” He stepped closer, his feet almost touching the bottom of the tub, and he leaned forward. I caught a glimpse of Derek’s soft features buried beneath his father’s rugged stare, and my stomach began to hollow once again. “You wanna know why I escaped, Julie?”

“No—”

“Derek has to die,” he said, and his smile grew wider. “I’ve had my share of opportunities to end him. Hell, I could’ve killed both of you today in the woods, and no one would’ve been the wiser. But I had to be a good dad,” he said, and he seemed to believe he was doing his son some kind of justice. “I had to let him go, let him stir. I had to let him feel the overwhelming guilt and anger that pulses through our veins. He needs to understand that he’s a Milton, and no amount of sucking up to your family is going to change that.” He reached back to pull a gun from the back of his waistband, but he only held it at his side. I watched as he gripped it, never once taking my eyes off of the weapon.

So this was how it was going to end? No escape? No hero? Death by a Milton… in the true Little fashion.

“It was never my plan to hurt you,” he said again, and his blue eyes softened. “But I’ll be damned if my son chooses you over his own family.” He swallowed hard, and I watched as his chest rose with each heavy breath he took. “Your friends can you hear you. If you have any last pleas…”

I started to cry again as Conan lifted his hand gun only inches from my face. I couldn’t find my voice, and I didn’t really care. Nothing I could say would suffice. I couldn’t beg for my life; I couldn’t scream for someone to save me. I couldn’t leave the people I loved, leave all of them behind, knowing that I was disappointed. I couldn’t let them live with the overwhelming guilt. I couldn’t do it. So I kept my lips pressed together.