Hundreds (Dollar #3)

Who had she fallen in love with? How did he die?

Was Elder’s father English or American? Canadian or Finnish? Had his sibling been just as handsome with genes born from different borders or was I just enamoured with Elder?

“Move!” she commanded, trying to brush past Elder blocking the doorway. “I’m leaving.”

“Leaving?” Elder stepped away, dragging me with him to give his mother a clear path. “But you only just got here.”

“Wrong. You only just got here. I’ve been here a few days with Raymond. This was supposed to be a vacation.” She threw her hands up in the air as she stalked down the corridor, ignoring the pretty fountain view or plush, colourful carpet. “He didn’t tell me he’d somehow found a place that rents out to low-life’s like you.”

I winced for Elder even though he didn’t show any pain. He merely trailed after the angry woman, keeping his distance as she entered the kitchen and pulled out a filleting knife from a drawer.

She brandished it, half with commitment, half with shakes born from fighting with her son.

A son she despised. A son she would rather hurt than talk to.

Why?

What happened?

Why did she think Elder killed his father and brother?

Surely, he could never do such a thing?

After what he’d done for me? How kind and protective he was? It didn’t make sense.

“Okaasan, please. Can we talk?” Elder held up his hands in surrender. “I won’t hurt you.”

“Won’t hurt me?” She laughed manically. “You already hurt me more than you ever could.” Tears glittered in her black eyes. “You killed me. You made me a walking ghost with no family—”

“I’m your family.” He thumped his chest. “I’m still your flesh and blood.”

“You are not my family.” She spat into the sink. “You will never be my son.”

Elder pinched the bridge of his nose. I didn’t know if it was to fight back emotion at the sheer hate his mother had for him or to compose his temper that slowly rose to match hers. Watching them together showed me where he earned his volatile moods. His mother was hot blooded and cruel. Blind and deaf to hearing any other argument but her own.

But I had no right to judge.

Just because I didn’t know her didn’t mean she wasn’t right.

If Elder had done what she accused him of what did that mean? Could I believe he had the capacity to kill his own relations? What did that mean for me?

Chills scattered down my arms as Elder growled, “I am your son. I’ll forever be your son. I’ve done everything I could to make it right, but you banished me. You took away my home, my family. You—”

“Don’t you dare blame this on me. It was you who took away our home. You who killed any family who ever wanted you!”

“But I took care of you! I fed us. I committed crime for us.”

“No.” She laughed like a witch stirring a bubbling cauldron. A cackle. A curse. “You went into crime long before you stole to keep us alive those few months.”

“I didn’t do it deliberately.”

“Don’t lie!” she barked. “You knew exactly what you were doing. You might’ve been young, but you had a choice!”

“I never had a choice!” Elder bellowed. “Why could you never understand that? Do you think I wanted to be the way I am? Otōsan understood that. He tried to help—”

“Yes, and look what happened to him. Because of you!”

“I hurt just as much as you do. Knowing I was the cause eats me alive! I can’t change what happened—”

“And that’s why I can’t stand to look at you!” Tears tracked down her cheeks, almost sizzling from her rage. “I prefer to think you’re dead too; that way I don’t imagine killing you every night for what you did.”

Elder sucked in a sharp gasp.

The volley of slurs stopped as he shook his head silently.

My own tears welled at what a terrible thing she’d said. I couldn’t get in the middle of this, but no one should have to hear his own mother wanted him to die.

Stepping forward, I called upon every inch of bravery I had left. “You don’t mean that.”

Elder’s head whipped to me, his face tortured and strained. “Pim. Don’t.”

I didn’t obey.

Moving to stand in front of him—just like I had the night Alrik pointed a gun at his chest—I did my best to protect him. “Life is too short to hold grudges.”

His mother gripped her knife tighter, disbelief whitening her face then livid animosity replacing it. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Absolutely no right to interfere.”

“I have a right when you’re hurting someone I care about.”

“Pim—” Elder snapped, grabbing my arm to haul me backward. “Stop.” Pulling me into him, he grunted, “Go wait in the car. Tell Selix we’re leaving.”

“No.” I squirmed in his hold. “I need to—”

Remind you that you do have someone who wants you.

Show you that you might have had no one, but now you have someone.

Me.

His mother pointed the blade at me, her wrath changing its victim. “Who are you anyway? Why are you with this heathen? Why are you not running for the police? Do you know what sort of monster you’re with?”

I shrugged off Elder and marched forward, not caring she had a knife or hate. I wanted to tell her exactly who I was and what Elder had done. To inform her how I would be dead if it weren’t for her son, but words flew out of my head, my heart. I had nothing to reply with. A dried and dusty throat.

Elder didn’t give me time to figure out how to respond. He placed himself in front of me, once again protecting me in the face of battle. “Don’t talk to her that way.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” His mother waggled the knife, her shakes fading, replacing with more and more loathing. “Get out! Leave or I’ll call Airbnb and tell them how—”

“Wait,” Elder said. “What did you say about Airbnb?” He chuckled as if he couldn’t believe it. “That’s what you think this is? A rental?”

She sniffed condescendingly. “That’s how Raymond found it.”

“Raymond lied to you.” Elder laughed coldly. “Like I said before, this is my place. He knew that. I told him you were welcome anytime. That my door is always open. That I built a fucking yacht big enough to house all of you. That I wanted my goddamn family back. I told him to tell you so many things once you cut off all communication. But he never replied. Never came. Not one phone call or email. Nothing. And now you’re here and you’ve probably brought them right to my door. You should’ve stayed hidden, Okaasan. They’re still watching. Did you think they’d be satisfied with Otōsan and Kade’s death?” His voice lowered to a terrible whisper. “They’ll never stop.”

“They’ll stop once they’ve killed you.”