Beyond the Horizon Page 26
“Daddy?”
The King blanches and the room takes a collective breath. Asia and Connie are staring at us both in shock, and the rest of Asia’s gang are just as confused. The only people who aren’t are Grayson and Ma Silva. They’re both looking at me with anger. I know what they’re thinking, that I should’ve got the little girl out.
“Don’t be afraid, Ronnie. Malakai won’t hurt you, I promise,” he assures her vehemently before focusing his attention on me. I recognise the look he gives me and it’s one of both fear and blind rage. He’d kill me if he didn’t think there was a chance I’d hurt his daughter. Of course I never would, but he can’t be certain I won’t. I am the Punisher after all.
“You have another child?” Asia asks, finally finding her voice.
The King snatches his head around. “Yes, surprise!” he says, waving his hands wildly in the air, the fucking maniac. “Veronika was the product of a short affair that I had with a woman before I met your mother, Camden,” he says, glancing at him across the room. “Another whore who’s only worth in this world was to give me Ronnie. When I found out about her birth I made sure I didn’t repeat the same mistakes as I did with Asia. So, I took her. She’s been our little secret, hasn’t she, Monk?” he adds, staring at his son who just grits his jaw and nods.
“Why didn’t Mum say anything?” Camden blurts out.
“Because your mum knew if she did, I’d kill both her and you.”
“You’re a fucking arsehole!” Camden shouts, earning him a whack from the guard standing behind him. Ronnie yelps and the King’s shoulders stiffen before he turns his attention back to Grayson, who’s glaring at him with unbridled hate. “Grayson, meet your niece,” he introduces.
Grayson’s gaze softens as he looks at Veronika, who peeks at him from behind a curtain of dark hair. “Hello, Veronika. It’s nice to meet you,” he says gently, before glaring at me. “I told you to get her out.” Next to him, Connie flinches and my gut fucking twists as I lock eyes with her. She’s looking at me like she doesn’t know who I am.
“You have people here you care about and so do I…” I say to Grayson, drawing my gaze away from her.
“Malakai, what were you thinking?” Connie hushes out. “She’s just a child.”
“All the more reason to make sure both she and you are safe from this monster,” I respond, picking Ronnie up and tucking her into my side.
“You need to get her out of here. Now!” Connie shouts, shaking her head and looking at me in horror. God, what must she think of me?
“And leave you with him? No.”
Connie turns to Ma Silva. “Grandma, did you know about this?”
She grimaces. “Malakai told me about the little girl he’d spotted here. I put two and two together and made him promise me to rescue her too when the time came. I hadn’t bargained with them getting caught,” she replies, glancing at Asia and her crew.
“You fucking conniving, old bitch,” the King snarls.
Ma Silva ignores him and turns to Grayson. “Why didn’t you come see me, Grayson? It’s been almost twenty-five years. I promised your mother I would always watch out for you. Maybe we could’ve gone about this differently.” Her surprise that he’s here is very evident.
The King snorts. “Always the favourite. Good old Grayson.”
Grayson ignores him and addresses Ma Silva. “I had to cut ties from everyone, including you. It was the only way to keep you all safe. But like my brother said in his note,” Grayson spits, referring to the note the King attached to Camden’s dead mum’s body as a warning to him. The King knew that the message would get back to Grayson given his connection to the kids, the fucking psycho. “The past catches up with us all eventually,” Grayson continues. “I couldn’t hide anymore. I couldn’t see another person hurt at the hands of this family and live with a clear conscience. This morning when Malakai told me about this little one, it only cemented my decision to return here and deal with him once and for all,” he says, looking from Ma Silva to the King. Connie looks at me then, shaking her head a little. If we survive this there are things I need to explain, things I need to say.
“How fucking noble of you, Grayson! Always the goddamn hero,” the King snaps.
“Enough, you always were a whiny, little bitch!” I snap, losing my patience. Ronnie lets out a whimper and I’m fully aware of the fact that there are a dozen guards with weapons, but this has gone on too fucking long. “This is over.”
Around the room, the guards aim their guns at me. My heart races, and Veronika cries in earnest now. I shift her around my side, ready to cover her body with mine should one of the guards get trigger happy.
“Wait!” The King snaps, holding his hand up.
“Father, you need to end this now. Shoot the bastard!” Monk yells at the guards, clearly not giving a shit that his little sister could get hurt. I watch as he presses the gun he’s holding into Kate’s temple hard enough to make her yelp. “I’ll fucking kill this bitch if you don’t let Veronika go!”
“Shut the fuck up, Monk,” the King responds, snarling. “You won’t be shooting anyone until I fucking say so. If any of you pull the trigger and risk Ronnie’s life, I will strip the skin from your body whilst you’re alive, and feed it to my fucking dogs! That includes you, Monk!”
“Daddy?” Veronika blurts out. The kid’s staring at her father like she doesn’t recognise him.
He baulks, and for just a second I see a flash of humanity in the black depths of his eyes.
“Don’t be afraid,” he says to Ronnie, before flicking his gaze to me. “What do you want?”
“Your men need to drop their guns. Right the fuck now,” I demand.
The King grits his teeth, then nods. “Do it,” he demands.
“Father?” Monk shouts.
“For the last time, Monk, shut the fuck up!”
The guards drop their guns. I look at Asia’s boys and jerk my chin. They disarm the guards, snatching the guns from them.
“On your fucking knees!” I shout. The guards drop, every one of them, with a gun now aimed at their heads.
“Give her to me!” the King demands, holding his arms out. He must be fucking insane if he thinks I’m going to hand her over just like that.
Instead, I look at Connie, my fucking heart pounding. “Come here.”
She shakes her head, her gaze flicking between me and the crying child. “Let the girl go, Malakai,” she says, her voice cracking.
“Come here. Now!” I repeat. Does she not fucking get it? They’d be dead if I didn’t come here. They’d all be fucking dead. She looks at me warily, then to my utter relief she gets up and walks towards me. The second she’s by my side Ronnie holds her arms out to Connie, recognising a safer bet, but I refuse to let her go knowing that if I do the King will make his move. “Asia, Ma, Grayson, you too.”
Ma Silva gets up and stands beside Connie, clutching her hand, but Grayson remains where he is, his gaze trained on the King. Asia is too shocked to move either.
“I’m not here to be saved, Malakai,” he says.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ma Silva asks, her voice tremulous.
Grayson doesn’t answer, but it’s clear what he isn’t saying. He’s here to kill the King, even if that means forfeiting his own life to do it.
“What about Kate?” Asia asks, looking to her friend, but Camden has already made his move and is pointing a gun at Monk’s head.
“Let her fucking go, prick!” Camden snarls. The second Monk drops his arm, Camden snatches the gun from his hand and pulls Kate behind him before smacking the handle against Monk’s face twice. Monk’s nose breaks. He drops to his knees, but Camden doesn’t let up, he hits him again, knocking him out, then strides over to the King. He has his gun aimed at the King’s head, ready to fire. Ronnie whimpers.
“Now you’re going to pay for killing my mother,” he snarls, pressing the gun to the back of the King’s head. Ronnie screams, and the sound pierces the
air.
“I hate you!” she yells at Camden, struggling in my hold.
Asia finally snaps out of her shock and stands, traversing the table and moving in front of us both. She hunches lower, making eye contact with Ronnie. “Veronika, is that your name?” Ronnie nods, her little chest heaving. “Sweetheart, your brother hurt my friend. He did that,” she says, pointing at Pink who is bruised and bloody from Monk’s hand.
“No, he wouldn’t,” she whispers.
“He’s a bad person just like our father,” Asia insists, taking her little hand and squeezing gently, but she snatches her hand back.
“NO!” she shouts.
“Don’t listen to her, Ronnie. Don’t believe her. She’s only trying to make you hate me. You don’t hate me, do you, little one?” The King asks, his eyes softening just a touch. I swallow hard. Behind him, Camden cocks the trigger. There’s a brief flicker of fear in the King’s eyes before he covers it with a fake smile. The love I thought I saw is gone, replaced now with a coldness I recognise only too well.
“I don’t hate you. I love you, Daddy,” Ronnie says passionately, her little hands reaching for him. Beside me, Connie covers a sob, folding herself into Ma Silva’s hold. My stomach roils, and my heart aches, but we’re so close to getting free. I can’t let my love for Connie override my need to save them all. If she hates me for the rest of her life, so be it. At least then she’d be safe.
“Until the day you die, right, baby girl?” The King says.
“Until the day I die,” Ronnie whispers.
The King nods, turning his attention towards Ma Silva despite the fact Camden still has a gun pressed to the back of his head. “Make sure Ronnie’s taken care of.”
Ma Silva nods, narrowing her eyes. “I’ll make sure she forgets every single thing about you. That’s the only promise I can afford you now.”
“I won’t forget you, Daddy! I won’t!” Ronnie shouts, her fists balling in anger.
“It isn’t me I want you to remember, Ronnie. Look around this room,” the King says, pointing to each of us in turn. “Remember them. Imprint their faces into your memory and when the time is right, you’ll have your revenge.”
“Enough, you sick bastard!” Camden snaps. “Take the kid out of here, she doesn’t need to see this.”
I nod, handing Ronnie to Asia. Despite her anger, her fear, she seems to recognise that Asia is her flesh and blood and holds on tight. I jerk my head. Asia doesn’t need to be told twice. She runs from the room.
As soon as the door slams behind her, Camden pulls the trigger.
Thirty-Six
Five months later
Connie
“Connie, a package has arrived for you,” Grandma calls from downstairs, her voice floating on the summer’s breeze that passes through our house on moist sea air. I drop my pencil onto the notepad I was writing in and rest my guitar on the floor by my feet. I don’t get up immediately, instead, I look out of my window and to the ocean beyond. The air is humid, the salty sea-breeze a constant reminder of the man I love. Malakai has been gone five months. Five long months.
I’ve missed him every single day.
So much.
Last week I turned twenty. I didn’t even want to celebrate, choosing to work at Lola’s Shack, my gaze constantly pulled out to sea, hoping to see Princess sailing into the harbour.
I’ve passed through the days like a ghost, functioning but not really living.
Hope has been a fickle friend. Some days she hugs me close, promising me everything will be okay. Other days she’s abandoned me too and her evil twin, Doubt, keeps me company.
Sighing, I uncurl my legs from beneath me, then stand, heading downstairs. Grandma is waiting by the front door, holding onto a cardboard box. It’s taped up and a little battered looking.
“Did the postman deliver it?” I ask, noticing that there isn’t a date stamp.
“It was on the doorstep,” she shrugs, looking as intrigued as I am. I take it from her, surprised at the weight.
“It’s heavy…”
“Open it,” she insists, looking at the box with interest.
It’s not often we get packages delivered, especially not ones that appear to have arrived as if by magic. There aren’t any postage stamps, just my name scrawled across the surface of the box in thick black writing. Grandma follows me into the kitchen and watches as I place the box on the table, grab a pair of scissors and open it. When I pull back the lid, the first thing I notice is the smell. It’s as though the scent of the ocean has been trapped inside the box and with it a leathery undertone, reminding me of Malakai. With a thundering heart, I remove the packaging, gasping at what’s inside.
“What is it?” Grandma asks me, leaning closer.
My hands wrap around the most beautiful conch shell that I’ve ever seen. It’s huge, big enough to fill both my hands which are cupping it gently now. The outer shell is a creamy-beige colour and there are hundreds of speckles a few shades darker that scatter across the nobbled surface, reminding me of the freckles that are sprinkled across my chest now. It has a long whirl and undulating surface that feels oddly sensual beneath my touch. Turning it over in my hands, I study the smooth aperture and the outer and inner lips that shimmer a pearlescent pink.
“Well, that’s a very pretty shell,” Grandma remarks. The opening to the shell looks like a very pretty, pink vagina. I catch her eye and my cheeks flush.
“What’s that?” Grandma asks, pointing at something tucked inside the shell. I reach in and grab hold of the edge of something, my mouth dropping open as I pull out a note tucked inside. Gently handing Grandma the shell, I unfold the piece of cream paper. My heart constricts as I read, battering a familiar rhythm that only ever occurs when I’m reminded of the man I love.
Dear Little Siren,
Many years ago I found this beautiful conch shell washed up on Grace Bay Beach on the north shore of the island of Providenciales. It had sat in the sand, the ocean waves gently lapping against it. The moment I saw, I knew I had to have it. Just like I knew I had to have you, even though I fought hard against the pull.
This shell, it reminds me of you.
It’s beauty, it’s strength, it’s pretty pink lips that resemble a part of you I dream about night after lonely night…
Whenever I press the shell to my ear, I can hear your voice calling me back to you, calling me home. That’s what you’ve become, Little Siren. Home. A beacon I keep returning to.
I know it isn’t much, but this shell is yours now. I know how you love them, and I want you to have it. The perfect gift for the perfect girl.
If I were a brave man, I would’ve brought this to you myself. But I’m not brave, Little Siren, not when it comes to you. The truth is you scare me.
I’m terrified. I’m fucking terrified of how you make me feel. I’m terrified of how much I long for you. Need you, want you.
I’ve missed you, Little Siren.
There, I said it. I can admit that now.
I’ve missed you so damn much that there’s a deep ache within me. A deep ache that I don’t know how to heal.
I look up at Grandma Silva, my eyes swimming with tears, not certain I can continue reading. It’s been nearly six months since Malakai left the island. He left shortly after the events at the Palace, sticking around only long enough to ensure Asia and her friends would be taken care of. Three men, Hudson, Bryce and Max had arrived in the early hours the morning after everything went down, a few hours after Malakai left. The men, who I now understand are the billionaire brothers and joint owners of Freed Corporation, came to the gangs’ rescue, armed with lawyers of the very highest calibre.
The police arrived shortly after them, arresting Monk and Grayson Bennett. Monk, for the kidnapping of Pink, and Grayson for the murder of six guards and the King.
Grayson took the fall for everything.
The Freed brothers paid off the other guards to protect Camden and to corroborate the story we all agreed upon
. Grayson sacrificed his freedom to cover for Camden murdering the King, as well as Malakai and Eastern who also killed men that night.
Malakai had wanted to take the fall, had offered himself up as sacrifice, but Grayson had refused, asking him for one last favour: to get Ronnie off the island to somewhere safe before the authorities arrived. He was the only one who could, he was the only person talented enough to sail a boat in a storm that had still raged. Like me, like all of us, Grayson knew that Malakai’s defiance saved us all that night. If Malakai hadn’t done what he did, we would all be dead. I’ve no doubt about that. So, Malakai agreed to Grayson’s request and sailed away from me, from us all. I never got a chance to say goodbye.
“Oh, Connie, love,” Grandma says, her voice trembling as much as my hands are.
She’s watched me fall apart, then slowly put myself back together again these past few months. It’s been hellish, brutal. I’ve worried for him. I’ve stayed up night after night walking down to Broken Shores and looking to the horizon hoping, wishing, for his return. Lola has tried to keep me centred, understanding better than anyone what the loss of Malakai’s absence feels like. The only message we received from him was a little over a week after the events of that night. Malakai contacted Grant asking him to pass on a message to me. Like always it was brief and to the point.
Ronnie is safe. She’s with a couple I trust and will live a happy life. I cannot come back to the island, not whilst the investigation continues. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Little Siren.
Grant had given me a hug and left me to cry bitter tears. It hurt that Malakai hadn’t contacted me directly. Though I understand why, I do. I was a witness and no doubt he didn’t want to implicate me or himself in any way. Both myself and Grandma had to lie under oath a month ago at Grayson’s hearing. All of the gang had been witnesses too. None of us were happy about the lie we agreed to, and it will forever sit heavy on all our hearts, but we understood why Grayson did what he did. Camden was a victim of the King’s brutality and no one wanted him to spend a life in prison for having the courage to do what many people would never have dared. Now Grayson is starting a life sentence. He wasn’t able to escape his family, but in the end, chose to help others to have the one thing he could never have: freedom.