Chapter Thirty-Six

Chuck waved them in with the gun. “Throw the phone outside, bitch, and get in here.” She did as she was told. Len gave her a slight nod. She hoped that meant he had a plan. They walked into the office. Her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. It smelled of rotting fish and the bleach they must have used to try to cover it up. Her stomach roiled from the onslaught.

A mattress lay on the cement floor and a hot plate and laptop atop a scarred, wooden school desk. She looked at her father with disgust. She had to stall.

“How the mighty have fallen. The place definitely suits your character.” God, she hated him. “You know, they told me it might be you, and I said no. Chuck Devon is too small-time. He wouldn’t have the ambition for this. I don’t know why I didn’t believe you’d pull something this filthy.”

Chuck backhanded her. “You never showed me the proper amount of respect, you little bitch. It’s about time you did.”

White-hot pain burst across her cheek. It knocked the breath out of her, and she fell to the floor, the cold concrete brutal on impact with her hands and knees. She tried to shake off the hit but found her head throbbing behind her eye.

Len surreptitiously tried to reach for the gun she knew he had concealed under his jacket. But Chuck noticed the movement and whipped his own gun around, aimed at Len and fired. Len twisted to avoid the shot, but he was too late. He stumbled backward and fell to the ground, his head slamming into the concrete.

“No!” She crawled to Len’s side, felt for a pulse, finding a shaky one. Blood oozed from his shoulder. He was alive but out cold. She stared up at her father.

“You bastard.”

He lifted a shoulder. “Name-calling isn’t appropriate when I’m holding the gun. Now get up.”

“You didn’t have to shoot him,” she spat out as she staggered to her feet. Pain radiated through her body. She struggled to hold back rising bile. Her father stalked a few steps backward. He rifled through a file folder with one hand but never lowered the gun from his target.

“I did have to shoot him, actually. Just like I have to shoot you. But not before you sign these documents.”

She let out a painful laugh. “Chuck, you can’t get any money. Reginald made sure of it.”

“I’m not telling you to sign over the fortune, you little slut.” He wiped spittle away from his mouth. He was really and truly crazy. She darted a look to Len, prayed he would make it until Finn sent the cavalry. She needed to keep Chuck talking.

“What are you asking me to sign?”

“Purchase agreement for this warehouse. I own it. And because of your grandfather’s stupid will, the only way to get anything from the Winslow family is by duping them. If you enter into a contract with me, then the will voids. It goes to your mother. You and I both know I can get what I want from Reggie. Any time.”

“You haven’t spent a lot of time with Ma lately, Chuck. But let’s say, for argument’s sake, I sign. What then? You’re going to jail for this. That doesn’t leave a lot of time for you to spend your riches.”

“I’m not going to jail. John Hamilton is taking the hit on this. He’ll be dead before the week is out. I’ll make sure he doesn’t wake up from the coma.”

He doesn’t know.

She searched the room for a weapon and saw Len’s gun laying on the floor. She had to figure out how to get to it.

“I don’t understand, Chuck. Why are you doing this? Money? You could con anyone else in the world; why the Winslows?”

“Your Auntie Serena didn’t understand what she was doing when she asked me to take out your mother. I’d spent two years in that stable by then, watching the Winslow princesses. Reginald treated us like peasants. He was the bastard, not me. He thought he was better than everyone—even though he was born poor too. He forgot where he came from. He wasn’t going to treat me that way and get away with it. Serena was too much trouble. But Reggie was malleable. I like that in a woman. She was ripe for it.”

At that moment, Bev thought she could kill him for that. Really do it.

“So you blame Reginald because you were a stable boy, or you blame Serena for being a brat? Or is it my mother? It’s hard to keep track of who you hate the most, Chuck.”

Her father stalked over to stand in front of her. She had to look up at him. Bourbon on his breath, mingling with body odor from not showering. She gagged. He slapped her. Bev stumbled back but recovered. Looked into his soulless eyes.

“I hate you the most. Bitch, you took it all away.”

“How did I have anything to do with it? I’ve been giving you money since I was in college!”

“It was never enough. Not when I know what your last name is worth. If you don’t sign the papers, I’ll break your fingers before I kill you, and then I’ll kill your mother. I won’t stop until I get my payday.”

“I’ll sign but I want to know the whole story. If I’m going to die, I want to know why.”

Chuck shrugged, scratched his head with his free hand. He paced the room. “I’ll enjoy telling you actually. Anything to hurt you a little bit more. God I hate you. I hate you were born.”

Tears pricked at her eyes. He wouldn’t stop until she was dead.

“Serena was so petty; it was easy to suggest a way to get back at her sister for being the favorite. Serena didn’t acknowledge I existed after, and then you came along and fucked up the whole plan. I wanted the marriage. I thought Reginald would accept a marriage. But you, you were too much for Reginald to take. One of the Winslow heirs knocked up with a bastard? That tipped him over the edge, and he made it all disappear.”

“I tried to get a payout from Serena or Reginald, but John was the only one willing to make me go away. Just like you. You and John were the protective sort. Just wanted me away from your families. I’ve been patient long enough.”

“What about my mother? Why did you keep coming back?”

“Because I could. Reggie wanted some sort of family and, for a while, she bought it when I came back and said I was ready to commit. As if I would ever commit to anyone.” He laughed. “After a while, she was too exhausted to fight. Reggie was done with me, though, when I roughed you up. I had to wait a long time before I could start milking you. You owe me for that time too.” Chuck pivoted to a standstill in front of her. Spittle settled on his lips, and his nose ran.

“The thing Serena didn’t count on was me screwing with your ma’s mind. That was just a bonus. Christ, your ma was easy. Opened her legs for me the minute I told her I loved her.” His laugh was hateful and proud.

Rage boiled to the surface. She launched herself at him. “You won’t talk about her like that!” She knocked him off his feet and scratched at his face. For all of her height and strength, her father still had the advantage.

Chuck rolled on top of her and punched her in the jaw. She anticipated the blow so it only glanced her cheek. She grabbed for the gun in his other hand. Her chest heaved with his weight pressing into her rib cage. She scratched and clawed with one hand and reached for the gun with the other. But nothing worked. He was too strong.

Chuck used his free hand to wrap around her neck, cutting off air. “I’m not going to kill you without the signature, but I know that lawyer is on his way. I will kill him too if you don’t do what I say.”

She stopped struggling. She couldn’t let him hurt Finn. She wouldn’t be able to go on knowing she could have stopped that. “It won’t matter, Chuck. John Hamilton woke up and outed you. The FBI is on the way. You’re done. And you’ll never get another penny from another member of the Winslow family. Ever.”

His eyes stared lifelessly into hers. “Then I’ll make killing you the last thing I do.” He threw his gun across the room. “I’m going to enjoy watching the life leave your body. It’s fitting for what you did to me.”

She tried to buck him off her and twisted her body to get away. He put a knee on her sternum, pushed down, then wrapped both hands around her neck and squeezed. Black shadows clouded the periphery of her vision. She gasped for air. She was losing. She didn’t have much strength left. She clawed at his hands with her own but couldn’t budge them.

In her mind, she envisioned her family. They sat in Megan’s restaurant, weeping for her. Finn was there, hugging her ma. She had to fight. She dug deep for adrenaline. Releasing one hand from Chuck, she swept out her arm, feeling for a weapon.

Edgy panic and overwhelming sadness weighed on her as she realized she was going to die. She had to try something. She fisted her hand, launched it up, and connected with Chuck’s ear with a fierce crack. He loosened his hold. Barely. She did it again.

“You bitch!” Chuck roared and used both hands to shake her and pound her head into the concrete.

Her eyes clouded over, and she couldn’t see clearly anymore. Somewhere in the fog, she dreamed of sirens.

She couldn’t fight anymore. She prayed they’d stop him before he got to her family.

Bev let go of his hands as she drifted into the black.

Then, there was nothing.