He stands and runs his hand over his head, giving it that messy look. “He took me to your mother’s apartment, not far from where you live now.” Landon shoots me a quick glance before he stares out the window, placing his hands in his jeans pockets. “When we entered, Maria was frantic, sweating even. But man, she was truly beautiful.” He whips his head around and smirks at me, like he is staring at my mother again. I close my eyes, tears threatening to spill as he continues.
“She screamed for us to leave, that she wasn’t returning to the estate. My father roared that she was his indefinitely since she was pregnant with his child. She got this evil look across her face and said she had an abortion.” Landon steps over to me and squats in front of me again, my hands digging into the sheets the more he tells me what happened that day. A piece of me still doesn’t want to know.
“I’ve never seen my father so angry. He was blistering red, his body shaking with rage. He lashed out at her, told her an Evans would never roam this Earth again. That she killed his seed, and he’d see to it that her DNA never disgraced this Earth with its presence, starting with her. That’s when something caught the corner of my eye.” He grabs my clawing hand from the sheet and squeezes it. My heart races and sweat is forming on my forehead. It’s like watching a movie, the climax happening right before you that has you by the seat of your pants. You know it’s going to end badly, but yet you sit there watching with a racing heart.
“I saw you hiding under the table, looking right at your mother, fear written across your face like you’d just realized the devil was real. I saw my father reach behind him, going for his gun while walking toward Maria. If he made it just one step more, he would have seen you, Charlie, and not only killed your mother, but I know he would have killed you, too. So I did what I thought was right at the age of sixteen. I pulled my gun out, stepped in front of the table you were hiding under, blocking you from my father’s view, and…” He pauses, squeezing my hand harder. “I shot your mother.”
I pull my hand from his, a sob escaping my mouth as I stand. My body thunders with blistering rage, and I feel like I might vomit. I cover my mouth with the back of my hand and close my eyes. My mother flashes behind my eyelids, then ominous wings.
“Nobody even knew Maria had a kid,” he mumbles. Knowing my mother protected me from the estate when I was a child causes admiration to bubble in my chest. I wonder if she feared Miller, or if she knew he was capable of evil. I bet that’s why she aborted his unborn child.
“The tattoo on your back, I saw it that day. But I don’t remember how.”
“When I stepped up to block you, it made me closer to your mother. Blood splattered on me, and Father told me to take my shirt off and wipe my face with it. Our car was parked right outside, so nobody would notice if I was wearing a shirt or not. So I took it off, cleaned myself, and we left.”
I shake my head, not wanting to believe anything he’s saying.
“Do you know what kind of Hell you put me in? What life you placed in my hands?” I yell, pointing at him with resentment.
He stomps forward, his jaw ticking as he grabs me by the shoulders. “I fucking saved you. If it weren’t for me, your shitty life wouldn’t have ever happened.
“In fact, I’ve been saving your ass since the day I saw you hiding under that table. If I wasn’t in that alley, who knows what those college pricks would’ve done to you. Taking you from Mick, taking you off the streets, all of it.” He waves his hand in front of his face as he continues to justify his actions. “I don’t know what else you want from me,” he mumbles, his head hung low.
“Knowing the truth, knowing that my mother is really dead – it hurts.” I sob.
He grabs me by the shoulder and pulls me into him, hugging me. His arms are strong as he cocoons me into his taut chest.
“I just can’t believe you somehow made it back to me,” he mutters into the top of my head. “I went back when I could, but you were already gone.”
I close my eyes and fist his shirt, images of cops and first responders popping behind my eyelids. The looks on their faces when they found me under that table. How I wouldn’t talk to any of them, or let them touch me. The ride in the back of an ambulance with a gray wool blanket wrapped around me as they took me to the hospital, and eventually to the psych ward. I open my eyes, and I can’t decide if I’m angry, hurt, or grateful. I have a right to all of those feelings, but they’re all swirling inside of me at the same time, making me feel dizzy.
“Talk to me, Charlie,” Landon whispers, sweeping his hands along my back.
“I—” I choke. I’m not sure how I feel, or what I think.
He edges back, looking at me with concerned eyes. I look in his eyes, tears running down my cheeks.