Page 48 of Angel

She turns and I sense her sadness as she whispers, “You must take me for a fool. It’s only now I see what he was. I suppose it was inevitable what happened to him, but mom didn’t deserve what happened next and neither did I.”

I drain my mug and refill them both, and she accepts it gratefully.

“Mom buried her husband and married another one soon after. The same guard who argued with her that day. Life was very different after that. She became sad, withdrawn, and always appeared to be hiding something. I spent all of my time with the housekeeper, Mrs. Ames, and one day I woke and ran off to find my mom. There was a lot of shouting, and the door slammed and I wanted to check on her. I was nine years old and thought I knew everything. When I entered her room, she was lying on the floor, blood dripping from her mouth. I will never forget that moment. I fell beside her and lifted her head onto my lap, crying and screaming for Mrs. Ames. Mom’s eyes flickered for a moment and she whispered, I love you, Sophie, and I’m sorry.”

Tears fall from Sophie’s eyes as she revisits the memory and her voice catches as she whispers almost to herself, “Mom died in my arms. They had both left me. If that man hadn’t murdered my father, my parents would still be alive, and we would have been a family. He robbed me of that. Our family fell apart and I want him to pay.”

She wipes her tears away with her fingers and sniffs.

“I know what you’re going to say. He deserved it. Perhaps he did, but mom didn’t. I didn’t and what happened that day changed my life forever. I want to avenge their deaths because the man who murdered him was Johnathan Powell, the scientist. I overheard the man who married my mother telling her when my father never returned. He got to live. He had a family who continued with their lives. I was an orphan and sent to live with strangers.”

She turns and the gleam in her eyes is determined as she hisses, “He deserves to die for what he did. I won’t rest until I find him and I have been told you can help me with that. I’m not saying I want you to kill him. I just want his address. I’ll do the rest.”

I say nothing. Merely stare into the darkness outside my window and wonder how one incident can affect so many lives and not for the better. Sophie has every reason to be angry, but her reasons for revenge don’t really cut it. It’s delicate. I’m not good with delicate.

“Can you help me?”

The billion-dollar question.

So many things hinge on my answer. Her revenge, her safety, my sanity.

Her question sits between us as if waiting for permission to ruin many lives. There is no right answer here, so I shrug, setting my mug down on the counter and turn, taking in the nervous smile of a woman who has so much to lose in her pursuit of revenge.

She is incredibly beautiful. I understand obsession. Her stalker and I both have that in common. I have borderline obsessed over this woman since I first set eyes on her and now, she is sitting in my kitchen asking for my help to kill my father.

My mind flashes back to that day. The fear I felt when he walked into the barn. How hot I was, gripping the plastic gun while pretending I was brave. His cruel tone, his rough promises; the way he spoke about my mom.

I have no doubt he meant us harm that day. He wanted my father; his plans for my mom were undoubtedly different. What would my life have been like if he had succeeded? Only one man changed destiny, and it wasn’t my father. Her mom was wrong; it wasn’t her fault, but how can I tell Sophie that?

“Jason?”

She sounds nervous. Any confidence drained and fear replacing hope. She has told me she wants to kill a man. She will never get that far.

With a sigh, I nod, not sure what I’m agreeing to here and she releases her breath, her shoulders slumped in relief.

“You’ll help me.”

I’m shocked when her soft hand finds mine, and she squeezes it gently. “Thank you.”

Tears fill her eyes and her lip trembles.

“I know it’s a lot. I hate having to ask but, well–”

She wipes another tear away and whispers, “I can’t move on from the past. This will give me my life back.”

“Are you sure about that?”

My tone is emotionless.

I fix her with a blank, empty glare. “Two wrongs don’t make a right, Sophie. You are heading down a road that leads to nowhere but misery. I am still deciding if I can live with my part in that.”

“But I thought…”

“You jumped to a conclusion from my expression. I never said a word, but here are some I want you to consider long and hard. Can you live with the consequences of something that would change you? You say you want closure. This is just opening Pandora’s box, and you will never be free. It won’t bring your family back. It won’t make you feel any better, no matter how you may disagree with me. If anything, it makes you no different from the man you say killed your father. What if you’re wrong about that? Can you live with knowing you killed an innocent man based on something a criminal told your mom?”

“It’s all I’ve got.”

She drops my hand. “Just say if you don’t want to help me. I can live with that. I’ll find another way.”