Chapter 160
Vivian watched the van leave, feeling both accomplished and terrified. She’d managed to get both her father and brother out of danger; now it was time she do the same for herself.
Easier said than done.
A hand grabbed her shoulder in a vice-like grip, causing her to tense. It didn’t stop Paul from forcing her to turn around and walk back the way they’d come. This time they continued all the way to the end of the corridor and through the double doors. On the other side was an old factory’s production floor.
Heavy chains hung from the ceiling, some ending in hooks while others in broken links. Rusted machinery were placed to create aisles, conveyor belts linking some but not all. Littering the ground were countless tools, debris, and indecipherable papers. The air was musty and smelled of grease and oil, with a hint of decay; it was not pleasant.
Vivian glanced around as she was marched through this room, her shoulder beginning to ache from the hand that gripped it.
On the far side was another set of doors, which Paul pushed through without slowing down. He steered her towards the stairs just to the right, bringing them up to a large space that looked like it had once been a lunchroom. Tables and chairs lay overturned or in pieces, the chaos of it all fitting perfectly with the faded graffiti that covered two of the walls.
There were three sets of doors in the room, but Vivian didn’t get the chance to do more than count them before she was forced through one, and down another corridor.
Paul eventually pulled open a door to what had once been an office, where he finally released her shoulder from his grip. A quick look around the room told Vivian the door they’d come through was the only way in or out, making escape impossible.
Not wanting to give him any satisfaction, Vivian stopped herself before she rubbed her shoulder in the hopes of alleviating the ache that now resided there. “What now?” She found herself asking, feeling unexpectedly calm. Whatever was going to happen, would happen no matter what, and her acceptance of the situation had somehow put her mind and body at ease.
“Now… now we talk,” Paul replied as he leaned against the door.
“Okay.” What could he possibly want to talk about, she wondered as she strolled around the room, stopping at the furthest point from the man who blocked the only exit.
There was a brief moment of silence, as though he needed the time to figure out how to begin the conversation, before he spoke again. “I’m impressed,” he began as he removed the kabuki mask, his voice suddenly his own. “You managed to hide yourself rather well these last eight years.”
Vivian frowned. Hide herself? What was he talking about? Not understanding what he meant, she decided to keep her mouth shut and wait. Maybe he would say something more to explain.
“Here I was, thinking you must have tripped and hit your head or something, dying out in those woods from exposure, only to find out you were alive and well. In fact, you got to reunite with your so-called family.” He spat the last word, as though it had a vile taste to it. “How does it feel, living so well, knowing you’re the reason she’s dead?”
His words hit her like a whip, causing her to flinch. The worst of it was that he wasn’t wrong. Vivian had been the catalyst, though not by any fault of her own, to what happened that day, had been the reason her mother stood between them. Except… now that she was in her mother’s shoes — taking the place of her father and brother — she felt no regret, only an odd sense of victory. He wouldn’t harm the people she loved, because she was standing in the way.
It was likely that this was how her own mother had felt during her last moments. She wouldn’t have blamed Vivian. She wouldn’t have felt burdened with the weight of protecting her only daughter. If anything, she would have felt victorious as the bullet took her life, knowing she’d done exactly what she’d set out to do; that she’d thwarted this man’s attempt to kill the daughter she’d been so desperate to protect.
Raising her chin, Vivian glared at the man who blamed her for his own actions. “Compared to how I lived, trapped in that house with you, it’s not difficult to live well.”
“You little,” he snarled, stepping away from the door. He crossed the room in three strides, the back of his hand slamming against Vivian’s face.
She’d seen it coming. The moment he began moving she knew what to expect. Instead of bracing herself to withstand the blow, she allowed it to send her crashing to the floor. She lay there on the filthy surface for a few seconds before pushing herself into a sitting position. With the back of her hand, she wiped at her mouth, relieved to find it come away without a trace of blood. There were times a single hit resulted in her bleeding, but this wasn’t one of those times.
“You should be grateful to me,” he shouted at her, as she looked up to meet his eye. “I raised you since before you were born, you ungrateful bitch. You think you deserve anything? You don’t.” His next strike was on the opposite cheek, and this one drew blood.
Running her tongue along her teeth, Vivian found the cut they’d made on the inside of her cheek. Experience told her it wouldn’t bleed for long and not to worry about it. “What do you want from me?” She asked, no longer willing to look at him. It didn’t matter what he wanted; she had no intention of trying to be his ‘good little girl’ any longer.
Paul scoffed as he turned and took two steps before he came to a stop. “What I want is the woman I love, but I can’t have her anymore, now can I? Instead, all I have is you. You. The spawn who stole her from me, who made her so defiant and difficult. If not for you, we would’ve been happy together, forever, just the two of us. Maybe we’d have even had a child between us, but you ruined it.”
“Even when you thought I was your own flesh and blood, you never treated me well. Do you honestly think you’d have treated another child differently?” His inability to understand how terrible he was as a parent was painful to see.
“Shut up,” he screamed as he whipped around, his face red with anger. “My own flesh and blood wouldn’t have been as disappointing as you!”
His raised voice caused Vivian to hunch in on herself, a reaction so ingrained that eight years later it was still involuntary.
At that moment, the door opened as a voice said, “If blood prevents a child from being a disappointment, then explain how you exist.”