I poke my head up through the window in the door to the gymnasium. Bullock is now on the ground, knife sticking out of his thigh and arm broken, bent disgustingly between wrist and elbow. Duncan only needed a second’s distraction.
Dad hasn’t moved. Duncan stands, looking at me, blood dripping from the slice on his face.
I inch the door open.
“It’s over, Dad!”
“Like fucking hell it is, you ungrateful bitch!”
I calmly approach Frank, touch his shoulder. “You’re doing the right thing,” I tell him.
He’s panting, and he’s sweating, and I’m worried he’s going to give himself a heart attack for how nervous he is.
He says to Dad, “You shouldn’t be doing this to your own daughter.”
“It’s for her good!” Dad yells back, but Frank just shakes his head.
“Put down the gun.”
Slowly, behind Dad, Duncan creeps forward, each step as silent as a cat’s.
“Never.”
“Put it down, boss,” Frank says, his voice rising.
To my astonishment, Dad raises his gun, points it at Frank. Frank flinches a little, but keeps his weapon trained on Dad.
“I can’t shoot him, Dee,” Frank whispers to me.
I summon up the courage to bring myself to say it: “You have to, Frank. You have to kill my father.”
But Frank doesn’t move. His finger is down the side of the barrel, not on the trigger.
“Damn it, Frank!” I shout, grabbing hold of the gun, trying to get my finger on the trigger.
The loud bang pierces my ears, sends pain throbbing into my skull. I jump back, look toward Dad, see his revolver smoking.
Frank drops to the ground, his body limp, his eyes open but dead. There’s a hole clean through his chest.
Dad turns the gun on me.
Chapter Forty Four
Duncan floats in slow-motion.
He grabs the gun, holds the hammer, and then kicks Dad’s knee. It’s the hardest kick I’ve ever seen, and I watch as Dad’s knee gives, bends out to the side.
Dad wails, falls to the ground, clutches at his lower leg that hangs limply from the knee, foot facing out the side instead of the front.
Duncan snatches the gun, points it at Dad, and then brings his foot down on Dad’s thigh. I hear the loud crack of bone, and Dad’s scream echoes in the gym.
It just took two seconds, and I’m still frozen to the spot. I look down at Frank’s still body, see the gun, and immediately bend down and pick it up.
“You motherfucker,” Duncan growls, pushing the barrel under Dad’s chin. “Give me one reason not to blow your fucking head off. You threaten the woman I love, my family? You piece of shit.”
“I should have never rescued you off the street you rat fuck,” Dad says, his words labored. “You were never any good for her. You turned my daughter against me!”
“You did that yourself!” Duncan roars, jamming the gun deeper into Dad’s neck.
“Don’t kill him,” I say quickly, staring at my broken father on the floor, then flicking my eyes up to Duncan. “Please.”
Duncan throws a wild look my way.
“Please. I need you. You can’t kill him. The police are on their way.”
He pulls back the gun, throws Dad to the ground. Dad just holds onto his leg and whimpers.
And… and I’m surprised that I feel the way I do. I never expected that I would. I thought that seeing Dad stopped, knowing that my baby is now safe, would flood me with relief.
Instead, I’m more heartbroken than I ever have been. The sight of my fractured father on the floor tears at me. I never wanted it to come to this. I never wanted it to end this way.
Duncan rushes to me, holds my face, asks me if I’m okay.
I barely hear the words. I feel shell-shocked. I’m just looking straight at Dad, the man who was supposed to be my protector in life, the man I was supposed to be able to look up to, admire, moaning on the ground, his legs broken by the man that I’m in love with, the father of my child, Dad’s adoptive son.
I touch Duncan’s hand, nod at him. He puts his arm around me, holds me and kisses my head. “I was right on the edge.”
I tap him on the chest. “I know. You okay?” I pull his head toward me, see a gash along the side of his jaw where Bullock got him with the knife. The wound on his forehead has opened up as well. “Damn it.”
“It’s fine.”
“You ungrateful little shits,” I hear Dad groan from the ground.
I step around Duncan, go to him, kneel down beside him. His face is contorted by the pain, but he looks up at me out of savage eyes.
“Why, Dad? Why couldn’t you just love me and take care of me? Why couldn’t you support me?”