Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
He takes Alec by the shoulders and Alec stiffens. Not aggressively, but enough so that it’s noticeable.
“Look at you,” Zander says. “How are you, my boy?”
“I’m aces,” Alec says in return.
His father waits for another moment to see if Alec is going to say anything else. When he doesn’t, he pats Alec on the shoulder and limps over to stand in front of… me.
“Christine,” he starts. “Christine. So very glad to see you again. So happy to know that you’re all right.”
He smiles his tortured, tragic-looking smile right in my face, and I see the teeth in his mouth aren’t his. Not the teeth. Not the mouth. None of it. Or not the ones that came with his original face, at least.
I remember thinking when I was here with him before that the plastic surgeons who remade him did an incredible job of building something from nothing. Based on what I came to learn, the car crash that killed Alec’s mother and very nearly killed Zander did a pretty thorough job of wiping away any physical record of the man who was there prior, but they must have run out of energy or time or something at the teeth.
They’re too white. Too perfect. Maybe they’re some sort of compensation for the fact that everything else about his reconstruction is kinda… macabre.
Zander van den Berg was always a world-class prick, but he was handsome. Alec didn’t get it from nowhere. This man here, Alexei Gorny, is not. He looks more like the physical embodiment of all the malignant shit that Zander kept hidden away. Stuffed down inside himself.
He goes to stroke my head the same way he stroked Andra’s. But before his hand even reaches my scalp, another hand grabs it by the wrist.
“What the fuck is going on? Why the fuck are we here? What the fuck do you want? And how soon can we sort this shit out so we can fucking go? You fucking psychopath.”
Danny’s voice is neither loud nor urgent. It is completely reasoned and firm. And it makes Zander’s smirk spread even wider.
“Danny Fortnight,” he says, turning to face him. Danny’s eyes go sleepy as he is confronted, indicating that he is not impressed.
I love him. I love him so much right now that I could almost explode. And I need him to know that. I need him to remember that. No matter what happens next, I—
“Danny Fortnight,” Zander repeats. “I truly never thought I would see you again.”
“Well, surprise, motherfucker.”
Zander chuffs a laugh. “I should have known. But I had hoped that Lars was right.”
“Right about what? Fuck’s that mean?”
Zander turns his head back to me, then faces Danny again.
I love you, Danny. I love you so much.
“Right about the fact that this”—he points to Alec, me, and then back to Danny—“whatever this is, had been broken. Had been severed. That the triangle of Alec, Christine, and Danny was no more. That those things that are mine would be returned to me in the way I wanted and that everyone would go on to live happily ever after. Well, almost everyone.”
I brace for it. I know what’s coming. And I just have to hope that everything that’s happened since makes it OK. That what we have now makes it OK.
Danny closes his eyes. Opens them. Says, “I need you to get to it, or I’m going to rip out your fucking eyeballs and shove them down your throat so you can watch when I tear out your intestines.”
“Ha! Nice one, Danny, my china. I had forgotten about you, to be honest. But now I remember. I remember why my son likes you so much.” He steps away from me and Danny releases his hold on the man’s wrist. “All right,” he says, “I will, as you request, ‘get to it.’ You need to understand, Danny Fortnight, that all this—all that’s happening, has happened—could have been avoided if dear Christine here”—he points at me—“had simply done what she said she would do. If she had done the simple task she was put to… Nobody would have fallen off a cliff. Nobody’s son would have had his life extinguished so cruelly. Nobody’s daughter would have been taken. So many extravagances could have been avoided if she had simply done what she said she would do.”
I can feel that I’m going to throw up again.
It’s unclear why.
“What did she say she would do?” Danny asks.
And, after a long, dramatic beat where Zander faces us, saying nothing, smiling his malicious smile, he answers…
“She said she would kill you, Danny. She said she would kill you for me.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
When I look over at Christine, she meets my eyes immediately. She doesn’t look away or try to hide. She responds to my gaze with a steady one of her own and we just stand there. Looking at one another.