“There’s no point in hurting yourself more, I was a Boy Scout back in the day. That right there is a double constrictor knot,” he informs me proudly, pointing to the thick, white rope that holds my arms secure.
“I see tying knots is the only thing you were good at. Did they kick you out for being a sick, twisted fuck?” I ask him sweetly through clenched teeth.
The smile falls from his face and he quickly pushes himself up to tower over me. “The only sick fuck in this room is you, my dear. Do you have any idea what it was like to find out you were fucking the enemy? The man who tore my family apart and took my best friend away from me?”
He starts pacing back and forth agitatedly in front of me, and I suddenly stop trying to tug against my bindings when I get a look at my surroundings. Lime green, rusty appliances, wood paneling on the walls, stained Formica countertops and a rickety blue plastic table against the wall. How many times did I get shoved face first onto that table so a cigarette could be jammed into my lower back?
“I see you finally recognize where we are,” Jackson says when he sees me glancing nervously around, his smile back in place. “Luckily, the place had been paid off before your parents moved in since they inherited it from someone in the family and your dad had enough money socked away to keep paying the taxes on it. It’s been sitting here unoccupied for fifteen years”
I notice dust and cobwebs on every flat surface and I try not to imagine myself as a little girl, cowering under the table when I’d hear the flick of my father’s lighter.
“I thought it would be fitting to take you on a trip down memory lane. Did you know I’ve been in contact with dear old dad for a few months? Nice guy, a little bit of a Jesus freak these days, but what can you do?” Jackson asks with a shrug. “He told me all about your rough childhood and let me tell you, my heart just broke for poor little Seraphina Giordano. He was a wealth of information on you. Had an entire notebook filled with facts about your life. He’s been keeping an eye on his little girl all these years even from prison, isn’t that sweet?”
I feel bile rising in my throat knowing that Jackson has been speaking with my father. Who knows what kind of shit that man told him?
“Did you help him get out on parole?”
Jackson tips his head back and laughs. “Oh, you have too much faith in me, Phina, if only that were possible. No, he really did get out on good behavior, but what a nice coincidence for me, wouldn’t you say? He’s been a big help.”
It’s bad enough knowing Jackson is insane and has me tied up in my childhood home. If my father suddenly shows up here, my life is officially over. How the hell can I take a cop AND a man who hates me and has spent fifteen years in prison learning how to fight dirty, all with my hands tied to a fucking refrigerator?
“This plan of mine only had a few snags. Lucky for me you and lover boy had a little fight tonight, or I wasn’t quite sure how I’d get you alone,” he tells me. “I tried to get to that asshole Collin, but that fucker is always looking over his shoulder and he’s always surrounded by fucking firemen. I didn’t really intend for Finnley to get hurt, but imagine my surprise when I cut the brakes on the wrong car? That whore finally got to feel a little of the pain I’ve felt since she allowed Jordan to burn to death inside their house.”
Obviously, bat shit crazy runs in the Castillo family.
“My best fucking friend!” he screams suddenly. “Do you know there wasn’t anything left of Jordan after that fire? That they had to use my best friend’s dental records to identify his body? It should have been Collin and the man you’ve been fucking. THEY should have been the ones to burn!”
I really don’t want to piss him off any more, but I can’t just sit here and let him excuse the man who tried to kill Finnley and place all the blame on Collin and DJ.
“You have lost your fucking mind!” I yell back. “Jordan doused her carpets in gas and lit the place on fire while she was inside. Collin and DJ did what they had to do to get Finnley out. They tried to save him, but he refused to leave. Did you know that? He backed away from the window in a room surrounded by flames and wouldn’t let Collin pull him out. He knew what he did was wrong and he wanted to die!”
Jackson screams at the top of his lungs, throwing his fist into the fridge above my head before walking over to the cupboards and ripping half of the doors off their hinges. I duck and hold my arms over my head as best I can as wooden doors start flying at me, bouncing off of my legs and crashing into walls.
“YOU’RE LYING! YOU’RE FUCKING LYING! HE WOULD NEVER DO THAT! JORDAN WOULD NEVER LEAVE ME ON PURPOSE! I WAS LIKE A BROTHER TO HIM!”