Dominic:
Setting the ice pack to the side, Remy slumbering away. Pulling the blankets over us, a soft smile dawned on my lips at her resting her head on my chest. Holding her tightly, none of my new life felt real. Feeling so blissful, sweet slumber stole me away in seconds.
Yawning groggily, alarm widened my eyes at Remy missing from the bed. Limping out of the bathroom, her nose has wrinkled with the fresh agony. Sitting on the edge of the bed, her slender fingers yanked a hairbrush through her wet hair. Twisting it into a bun, she noticed that I had woken up. Her loving gaze met mine, her fingers holding her leg awkwardly. My heart broke for her inability to ask for help, her life dealing her a rough hand.
"I wish we could give you something." I fretted abruptly, her head shaking. "We can help you if you want." Using the bedpost to rise to her feet, the wear and tear of the last months showed on her body. The only way to make her feel better was to wrap her a giant ice pack, the wounds where the glass had dug into her skin were just now scarring over. So many scars dotted her body, her worn expression meeting mine.
"I have been in worse condition, both physically and mentally. Stop worrying, Domy." She assured me warmly, opening up her suitcase with her good hand. "My parents used to beat me nearly to death and throw me in the basement to fix myself up." Picturing a young Remy trembling in a cold basement with broken bones and cuts terrified me for a minute, a touch on my shoulder snapping me back to reality. Holding an emerald sweater dress, I didn't think that she had modern clothing. Struggling with her bra, I clasped the red lacy number into place. Helping her get dressed, no words could describe how lovely she looked right now.
"I am going to take a shower and you are going to stay on the bed until I can help you downstairs." I uttered sternly, her head leaning on the bedpost. "I see that I don't have to worry about that." Rushing into the bathroom, the five minute shower was too long. Drying off, Remy hadn't moved. Walking over to my suitcase, I selected one of my simple black long sleeve shirts and black jeans. Glancing over at Remy, silent tears streamed from a numb expression. Tugging on my outfit, my hand cupped her face. Her confession stunned me, her behavior making sense lately.
"My parents used to hunt me down together during Christmas and would leave me out in the cold while they held a Christmas party with me shivering outside. Most of the time I had been shot or stabbed multiple times. One of the times I stumbled upon this place, and the kind man would always take me in. He would call his doctor to patch me up and give me a warm meal. I promised to spend every holiday I could with him and I did until he died from cancer a few years back." She sobbed violently, her trembling hand cupping mine. "He had no family so he left me this place and his fortune. I was there when he took his last breath. He said that I was the daughter that he never had. I miss him everyday. I know it sounds stupid to you but we used to get Chinese every Christmas and watch the classics. I wouldn't have survived without him." Clutching her close to my chest, the holidays had been bittersweet for her. Soaking my shoulder with her emotions, she squirmed out of my arms. Limping into the closet, she slid a door open. Lights flickered on, charcoal pictures lined the wall. Had she done these, her studio was as messy as her room. Tugging a golden rope, a red velvet curtain opened to reveal an elderly man holding a nineteen year old Remy in charcoal. The detail work was immaculate, her art skills matching her writing skills.
"That one took months to make but I did it. I made it in honor of him." She wept softly, covering it back up. "I learned how to do this in the mental hospital. Charcoal isn't sharp so they permitted it. Every time I created a picture, it would take the pain away for a quick second. Do you like it? I have only gotten better over the years." Shoving her hands into her pocket, my eyes fell on her cleavage for a second. Her bump stole my gaze, a gentle breeze moving her hair snapped me back to reality. So many of the images were dark, her sadness oozing from them.
"I think you are amazing. I can feel everything you were feeling at the time." I commented with my crooked grin, her face lighting up. "You could have easily been an artist. So you made all of your covers, didn't you?" Pointing to the wall behind me, my jaw dropped at the original pictures of her book. Drooling over them, her laughter twinkled in the air. Leaning forward, her hair fell off of her shoulders.
"I see we are still a bit of a fan boy." She teased playfully, twirling a loose piece of hair around her finger. Scooping her up, I draped her over my shoulder. Carrying her downstairs, Lucas was making a big breakfast in a ripped red and black striped sweater and dark jeans. My clothes looked good on him, his face lighting up at the sight of Remy.
"Morning, Mom!" He shouted with a big smile, my old man shooting me a devious smile. Setting her down on the plush light blue sofa, my father nudged my shoulder with his grin growing wider. Stealing me away, he forced me to help set the table. Focusing on another one of his ugly Christmas sweaters, his next words caused a low growl to rumble in my throat.
"Did you enjoy your ride, Sheriff?" He teased mercilessly, his arm resting on my shoulder. "You were lucky Lucas over there fell asleep with headphones on." Brushing his arm off of my shoulder, he woke me up a few times with my mother. A snarl twitched on my lips, he had a way of getting under my skin every now and then.
"Okay, might I add that you guys were pretty loud all the time." I retorted sarcastically, Lucas clearing his throat. Confusion dawned on our faces, his stern gaze shutting us down. Someone was used to running a home, both of our backs straightening. Pointing his spatula in our direction, Remy's curious gaze fell on the three of us.
"I don't know what you are about to argue about but I can safely assume that it was about last night. You were louder than my death metal. That is a feat that I thought no one could beat. Congratulations! Being loud runs in the family." He whispered harshly, his eyes falling on Remy. "Push that all aside and make this week amazing for Mom. Can we all agree on that?" Getting back to the food, the numb expression scaring me to my core. Lucas finished up with everything. Setting the platters on the table, Remy limped over. Taking her seat next to him, the head of the table waited for me. This wasn't going to do. Moving that chair out, I lifted up the chair with Remy in it and set it at the head of the table. Not saying anything, she played with the food on her plate. Please eat, I begged silently in my mind.
"Thank you for the meal but I am feeling a little under the weather." She excused herself calmly, limping upstairs. Hurt dimmed Lucas's eyes, his general understanding of her state relieving it instantly. Eating the food on my plate, I knew better than to push the issue. Lucas pulled me aside after breakfast was over, his shaking hands placing a couple of fresh cinnamon rolls on the plate. Desperate for her to eat something, we both had the same expression.
"I know you know where she is so give her these. I am aware that she has a love for sweets." He urged with a polite smile, seconds from losing his temper. "No never mind, you lead the way." Marching upstairs, he followed me through the bedroom to her studio. A broken Remy sobbed on the floor, all of his anger melting away. Underneath her lay an amazing pristine picture of the four of us together, her wet eyes meeting ours. Resting on her haunches, streaks of gray lined her cheeks. Setting down the cinnamon rolls, he folded his arms across his chest.
"I will only do therapy if you go too." He offered seriously, a sad smile dawning on her face. "I mean it. I won't go unless you get help too. This isn't healthy. You have way too many panic attacks and too many physical attacks on top of that. You don't think that I can't see the emotional strife drowning you. News flash, I can. So please get some help with me?" Rubbing the back of her head, she slid the picture over. Waiting with bated breath, the interaction could go both ways.
"I suppose I should by now." She caved quicker than I thought she would, a quiet smile illuminating her features. "Perhaps we can work through everything together. Anything for you, Lucas." Picking up the art piece, tears welled up in his eyes. Flitting between her picture and me, he spun on his heels. A loud what escaped his lips, a nervous grin twitching on her lips. Scanning the room, fresh vomit was in the bucket. Her morning sickness had decided to make an appearance, Lucas catching it seconds after me.
"Toast and ginger ale?" He offered sincerely, her smile giving her an answer. "I am going to show this off. I can't believe you made your own covers. That makes you so much cooler." Running downstairs, she leaned against the wall. Pure hatred burned in her eyes, an iciness haunted her features.
"Did you put him up to that shit? I don't trust therapists. They allowed me to go insane and did nothing about it." She yelled with a shaky voice, fear rounding her eyes. "One after another told me I should die but then they wouldn't let me because they had to cover their asses. So I will go for him, but don't expect me to talk. Those bastards can go fuck themselves." Struggling to my feet, she brushed past me. Great, I broke her. Knocking the cinnamon rolls onto the floor, guilt ate at me. Lucas worked hard on them, my mind picturing his hurt expression. Lucas rushed in, panic written all over his face. Struggling to find the right words, he leaned against the wall.
"She went outside for a walk. At least she was fully bundled." He cried out with the busted expression, his hand cupping his stomach. "She elbowed me out of the way but I understand that she was in a major panic attack. Help me find her before the next blizzard comes tomorrow." Running downstairs after him, we threw on our toughest winter gear. My old man chose to stay behind just in case she came back. Icy air nipped our faces the moment we stepped out, her tracks leading to her destination. Following them for about horrid hours, we came across a run down home. Examining the trees, bullet holes riddled the trees. Lucas understood where we were, orange flickered in the middle window of the second floor.
"You don't have to go in." I stammered with fright rounding my eyes, his head shaking slowly. "I don't even want to." Waiting in the cold for a few more minutes, Lucas donned his bravest face. Marching ahead, I had no choice but to go with him. Poking our head through the door, we turned on the flashlights on our phones. Scanning the walls, dried blood covered every surface. Our faces paled, my heart was seconds from pounding out of my chest. Fragments of skull were scattered across the worn wooden floor, silent tears streaming down his cheeks. She was severely injured when she went to rescue the other person, the stairs snapping us out of our numb state. Sneaking up the broken stairs, fresh blood lined the wall. Peeking around the wall, an insane man was pressing hot coals onto her legs. Crying out in pain, the bastard had her tied to her rusty bed. Struggling not to scream, every breath grew shorter as a rare anxiety attack that decided to kick in.
"Behave for your uncle." The man with wild gray hair laughed maniacally, his copper eyes glistening with malice. "I will kill you for getting my brother and his wife in jail. How about another hot knife in your leg!" Slamming a red hot knife into her thigh, her broken wail shattered my heart. Snot mixed with tears, her begging wouldn't stop. Scanning her arm, her defensive wounds were bleeding profusely. Glancing over at us, she did her best not to show any reaction. The crazed uncle ripped Lucas from the shadows, Remy crying out. Her pleas grew increasingly desperate, her tears flowing harder. Begging until she was out breath, her lips parted to speak several times.
"Let him go! You want me." She wheezed, spitting out blood. "Uncle Max, please!" Lucas struggled in his grasp, her hands struggling in the handcuffs. Lifting up his boot, he smashed the heel into her chest. Cracks shattered the still air, my shaking fingers telling my father to send the cops to our address. Another message told him to get the doctor and his emergency care friend. A thumb up sent waves of relief crashing over me, my eyes falling on Remy coming up with a plan.
"I bet you could never do what they couldn't do. Kill me and make it all go away." She taunted insanely, her look telling me to wait. "Go ahead." Dragging a shivering Lucas over to her, the heel of her boots hit his throat. Stumbling back, Lucas stole the key. Unlocking her handcuffs, the first thing she did was cup his face. Spitting out blood, he had broken her nose. Ignoring all of the pain, her main focus was on Lucas.
"Are you okay?" She fussed over him, his tears dripping off of her bloody hands. "We are going to get out of here. Did you call the cops, Domy?" Coming out of the shadows, Lucas embraced her desperately. Tossing me the handcuffs, she pointed to her uncle and the radiator. Dragging him over to the radiator, the handcuffs clicked into place. Glancing around the room, she pulled out a couple of zip ties. Letting go of the stunned Lucas, she crawled over to him to zip tie his leg. Ordering Lucas to look away, she peeled off her boot. Smashing the heel into his fingers, sharp cracks mixed in with the crackling fireplace. Tugging her boot back on, she leaned against the nearest wall. Stirring awake, he began to struggle with his restraints. Flipping him off, we had to wait for the cops to show up. Snapping her nose into place, Lucas sank down next to her. Taking my spot at the only entrance to protect them, this whole feeling was surreal. Pure hatred burned in her eyes, her wrists resting on her knees.
"What made you want to attack me? You tried everything to keep them out of jail but your immense wealth couldn't save them in the end. They murdered people and abused the shit out of me!" She roared, choking on the blood pouring out of her mouth. "You joined them and I didn't tell on you. Fuck you!" Dead eyes met her fury filled eyes, wicked laughter rumbling in his throat.
"I wanted you dead along with them. We all did. You were just a bratty kid in the way of our life. I helped them murder all the time." He bragged with a Cheshire Cat grin, his eyes falling on his broken fingers. "Smart kid. I can't free myself even if I wanted to. Your intelligence is beyond your parents. My parents would hunt people and kill them all the time. We found it exhilarating. Then there was you, our disappointment showing in how normal you were. You never tortured animals or wet the bed for too long. You hated fire and showed no signs of becoming a serial killer. So if you weren't going to kill, then we were going to kill you. Your mother was an arranged marriage from another serial killer family. She was handpicked by my father and told to abuse you to the brink of madness. Loads of serial killers have messed up childhood but you persevered." Groaning through a wall of tears, Lucas held her bloody hands. Thank you for being there for her. Our life has certainly become better with him in it.
"That is so fucked up." Lucas barked venomously, his hatred burning hotter than hers. "I hope you rot in jail." Tossing him my shirt from underneath my coat, he pressed my shirt to her nose. Humming to himself, she sank into a drowsy state. Laying down on her head down on her lap, violent sobs wracked her body. Ruby pooled around them, Lucas telling her about the favorite parts of her book. Red and blue lights bathed the home, officers climbing up the stairs. My doctor and their friend ran in behind them, the officers asking for statements from us. A fit of wicked laughter stunned us all.
"I couldn't kill her like my other victims." He gloated with the coldest look in his eyes, the wicked grin sending chills up my spine. "I enjoyed every moment of beating my stupid niece. Helping her parents murder was so m-" Undoing his restraints, they dragged him out. His good hand flipped me off, Lucas grabbing my ankle before I flew off the handle. Let me break his face, damn it!
"He's not worth it." He growled through gritted teeth, Remy mouthing stop to me. "We have to get her back to the house so they can fix her up. Pick her up already." Scooping her up, the officers would have to wait for reports. Denying medical assistance, we piled into an ancient dog sled. My old man drove the black snowmobile back to the house. Pulling up in half the time, Lucas helped me carry her in. Laying on a portable hospital bed, they wheeled her away into one of the downstairs bedrooms. Watching through the glass, machines were hooked up to her in seconds. A weary officer knocked on the door, my old man letting him in. Taking our statements, he excused himself while wishing her well. Standing by the door, they were doing their best. Lucas touched my shoulder, a cup of whiskey rested in his palms. Accepting it graciously, the liquid burned its way down.
"Can you wait with me? You aren't going to get anywhere with pacing like a maniac." He convinced me with a sad smile, his hand resting on my shoulder. "We can put on the television as background noise. Mom, will make it. She only has surface burns and deep cuts from her fighting back. She fixed her broken nose, and her ribs are most likely fractured. Judging from the angle of his kick, it wouldn't have broken them. I watched my old man beat on my mother all the time. She sustained similar wounds but she always pulled through. I am happy that we all made it out alive and another serial killer was caught. What I don't get is why she asked if I was okay before laying down? Why would she d-" Taking his hand, he needed to know how her mind worked.
"She loves you with all of her heart and she wouldn't stand for you to get hurt. You gave her courage in a dark moment." I explained shakily, salty tears plopping onto my hand. "She was able to do what she needed to do because of you. You had to hear a bunch of bullshit but therapy will help you out." Yelling ensued around the corner, a busted Remy limping up to Lucas. Bandages covered her arms, bruises dotting her cheeks. Falling to her knees in front of him, she cupped his hands. Pressing her forehead against his lap, her tears soaked his jeans.
"I am so sorry for putting you in danger. I was kidnapped while walking to the bench by the lake and now I have scarred you permanently." She pleaded desperately, her fingers gripping her his jeans. "Forgive me for being the worst guardian in the world." Yanking her into a desperate embrace, her bloody hair painted his cheek. Crying into her neck, the events of the day broke free. Tears flowed freely between them, Lucas rubbing her back with a stunned look on his face.
"Stop it, Mom! You did what you needed to do." He assured her, guilt dimming her eyes. "I shouldn't have been there. All it is on me." Letting her go, she crawled over to me. Looking like death warmed over, she snuggled against my chest. Wrapping my arms around her, my old man went on to prepare some dinner for us. Passing out in my arms, Canston massaged his forehead. Crossing his hands, his brow raised oddly at the blood painting our son's cheek.
"She will recover. Most of the wounds are surface of course with the exception of the reopened stab wound. I stitched that back up. Make sure she gets rest for at least a couple of months." He informed us briskly, noting the blizzard outside. "The baby is fine. Her ribs are fractured which will make it hard for her to breathe at certain times. Can you help when you can? Just tell me if the bastard that did this to her was caught. I think that I should stay here tonight to monitor her. That blizzard is not going to let up." Excusing himself, Lucas rose to his feet to get his room ready. Leaving me to hold Remy, her body began to shiver in my arms. Throwing a blanket over her, my old man turned on the fireplace. Pausing in front of me, a look of relief dawning on his face at her sleeping peacefully. Sitting down next to me, he checked on her.
"Life sure does hate her." He groaned tiredly to himself, his eyes falling on my wet eyes. "Are you okay, kiddo?" Leaning my head back, he set a sandwich down in front of me. Her arm wrapped around my neck, a tender blush rose to my cheeks. Kissing the top of her head, her real smile illuminated her features.
"No. I saw her getting tortured and didn't charge in like I was supposed to." I answered impatiently, my temper flaring. "My job is to protect her and I failed, damn it! No, she looks like she has gone through a war." Turning towards me, he leaned forward. The angry part of me wanted to punch him in the face, my old anger management issues hiding behind my numb expression.
"Think about it from a security standpoint. Would it have improved the situation at all?" He asked calmly, his stern look telling me to take a deep breath. "No. You would have made it worse. I taught you everything about security and if you knew one thing, she knew what she was doing. Remember what I said?" Rolling my eyes, his logic made sense to me. If I had rushed in, he could have killed her right away.
"Use your head and not freaking emotions." I repeated with a bright smile, his head nodding. "I get that but you didn't see her get stabbed or burned. Whatever. Christmas movie?" Turning on the television, we sank into an empty state while watching the colorful images. Lucas and the doctors took a couple of seats. Please grant her a speedy recovery. Lord knows, she needed it.