Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 91212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
"You know succinylcholine is gone from someone's system before the autopsy is performed?"
I don't have a clue about the drug he just mentioned, but I know what it means.
"Dad?" I sob, my hand covering my mouth in shock and disgust.
He shrugs.
"You were fourteen."
"That day," he says with a sinister smile. "Best birthday gift I ever had."
He's a true psycho, having played the part of the grieving son every birthday since, as if he was so sad to have lost his father that he didn't even want to celebrate his birthday. I can't count the times I cried and was angry with Dad for dying on such an important day. I suffered along with Chris, thinking his birthday was tainted for the rest of his life.
"Petal?" I ask.
His smile grows wider before his eyes narrow when he glances over at me.
"I always hated that fucking cat. I was pissed that the cops came and fucking lied about Sadie's death. I wanted the sympathy card from the public, having lost a sister so brutally. Her overdosing only brought more speculation to the family, and more unwanted opinions about the Prestons' inability to keep things under control. How could I ever be president and control an entire country if I couldn't keep my own sister out of trouble? That's why people needed to know that she'd been murdered."
I shake my head.
"You've planned this for years?"
"Had a lot of time on my hands while in the shadows," he says as if what is happening right now is all part of his plan.
"What happens to me? To William? Where are we?"
He remains silent as he pulls down a road, one that seems would be impossible to find in the darkness.
"My cabin," he says. "I have loads of secrets."
I'm trembling, any control I managed while he drove is once again lost when he places the car in park and turns off the ignition.
"What happens to me, Christopher?"
His smile is slow before he speaks. "Right this minute? You'll get out of the car and go into the cabin."
I cross my arms over my chest, knowing it's a risk, but I've always had a great relationship with him. He's always been so grateful for my help, so pleasant. Is he truly that much of a sociopath that I was blind to who he really is? I can't think like that. My sweet little brother had to be in that head of his somewhere, right?
"Cora," he says, a level of warning in his tone that tells me not to argue with him. I can't get him to see reason if he's angry, so I open my door and step out.
As if he thinks I'll run away, he rushes out of his side of the car and comes around to meet me.
"Go," he says as if his word is enough, and honestly it is.
I saw what he did to Faye. I know what he had hired out to be done to Sadie.
Guilt blankets me like smoke as I climb the steps of the tiny cabin. I feel guilty for thinking William was capable of this. I feel guilty for being so disassociated from my family members that I didn't see this coming. I feel guilty for thinking that Faye was losing her mind. She spoke of bad things that Chris was doing and I automatically thought she was living in long-forgotten memories.
What could I have done differently to keep this all from happening? Was there anything that could've been done?
"What happens to me, Chris?" I ask again after he unlocks the front door and shoves it open.
"Right now, you're going to be bait. I need William to come to your rescue. I can't really annihilate my entire family if I leave William alive, now can I?"
"Wh-Why?" I stammer.
"Sit the fuck down," he snaps, shoving me until I fall onto the small sofa just inside the front door.
The place looks fully furnished, but it's smaller than the tiny studio apartment that Eddie was working out of in DC.
As my sobs continue, a battle begins to take place in my head. I have no idea how to react. Do I beg? Do I plead? Do I tell him that they all deserved to die and play to that side of him? Playing into his delusion seems like the worst thing in the world, and would I really let William die just so I could live long enough to escape?
"Hands behind your back," he says as he approaches with long zip ties in his hands.
"Chris," I sob again. "You don't have to do this."
"Don't I?" he asks, "Put your hands behind your fucking back!"
I do as he says, knowing it leaves me in an even more vulnerable position, but I can't think of any other way to overpower him or get the upper hand. I can't think of a way that this ends where there's no more bloodshed. I'm not trained for these types of situations, and I don't know many people who would be.