The Dark Light of Day Page 93


“You make it sound so simple. No, I didn’t just want you to live with me. I wanted to be your hero. I wanted you to see how much I loved you, so you would love me back.”

It was too much to process, especially with Georgia sleeping only feet away from a crazed Owen with a loaded shotgun. I steadied my gaze and numbed myself. Georgia was my only priority. I had to get through this for her.

“Nobody has ever wanted that with me before. To be my hero.” I hoped I wouldn’t set him off, or raise his suspicion. “I’ll go with you now. Let’s go. It’s not too late.” I could hear my voice trembling as I spoke.

“Patience, baby,” he cooed. “We gotta wait for Jake to get back first. That bitch has a one way ticket to hell, and his flight leaves today.” Owen licked his lips. “I want to watch your face when I shoot his heart out of his chest.”

The front door opened and the screen door smacked closed. Owen put an arm around my neck and a dirty hand over my mouth. The burning sensation that used to overwhelm me came back in full force, and the pain of it clouded my vision. Owen dragged me a few steps sideways towards the living room, standing with his back against the wall.

I realized then that I didn’t really care what happened to me. I had to protect my family. I was unimportant compared to the people I loved, the people who loved me. I would die for them. My purpose had been fulfilled—I’d had my Georgia. She was the only positive contribution I’d made to the hate-filled world I occupied.

My only hope was that she wouldn’t have to suffer in life the way I had.

Owen made a rolling turn off the wall to face the living room, and I took my opportunity. I broke from his hold and jumped on his back. I tried to wrap my arms around his neck, but I was no match for Owen’s size and strength. He easily bucked me off his back. I crashed to the hard wood floor and landed on my tailbone. I heard the crunch and felt a sharp pain run up my spine.

Owen didn’t take his eyes off of me as he shot blindly into the living room. The blast from the gun shook the walls. It felt more like an explosion than a shotgun firing. I covered my ears to block out the high-pitched ringing that overtook me. I couldn’t hear anything.

“Jake!” I cried out.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw Owen staring into the living room. He let the shotgun drop to his side. It slipped from his hands onto the floor. His eyes were wide, his hands shaking.

“Jake!” I cried again. I used every bit of adrenaline I had to rush past Owen and into the living room. He didn’t try to stop me. “Jake?”

I still couldn’t hear. I didn’t know if he’d responded.

And then, I saw.

Of all the things I had been through in my life—the starvation, the beatings, abuse after abuse, losing everyone who had ever meant anything to me in one way or another—none of these things could have prepared me for the devastating sight of my daughter crumpled on the floor against the front door, with her yellow Curious George t-shirt turning a deep, wet red.

I ran to her and slipped her limp body into my arms, propping her up on my knees. I wiped the hair from her face. “Georgia!” I screamed trying to wake her up. Her eyes were closed. There was so much blood. I felt her neck for a heartbeat, but couldn’t feel anything beyond my own.

“Mama,” she said. It was weak. She was alive but barely. Help. She needed help. I couldn’t lose her.

I couldn’t let my Georgia die.

The front door opened again, and this time Jake stepped into the living room, a yellow envelope in his hands. “Bee—where the fuck are you? We need to fucking talk—now!”

He’d barely finished his sentence when his gazed dropped to where I held Georgia on the floor. He dropped the envelope, scattering black and white photos all over. In one stride, he was kneeling next to us, pulling Georgia into his arms.

“Owen,” I said, looking to the place where Owen had stood just seconds earlier. The shotgun on the floor was the only evidence he’d ever been here.

I pulled open the door and we rushed from the house. Before we got to the truck, Bethany tore into the yard in a bright white Mercedes SUV and jumped out of the driver’s side, running toward us. She had the start of a black eye, and blood was dripping from the corner of her lip. Her mouth fell open when she saw Georgia in Jake’s arms. “I... I came to warn you... I tried to stop him...”

“Open the fucking door!” Jake yelled.

Bethany swung open the passenger side, and I jumped up into her car. Jake laid Georgia over my lap carefully, so carefully. He jumped behind the wheel as Bethany fell into the back seat.

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