SO COLD (18+) currently editing

Chapter 64.6

SO COLD

The blinds were drawn in the study room. The temperature was pleasantly toasty after the bitingly cold wind from outside. There was a plasma TV on the wall, bookshelves on the wall adjacent to the windows overlooking the street, and a glass coffee table with an ashtray and a forgotten cigar. I sunk into a dark-blush-red stained leathery armchair after accepting a cold glass of bourbon from Cole. I swallowed half the contents before he spoke: my health journey be damned, I needed the courage and will to get through this dreaded conversation. Cole seemed to have the same idea; finishing his first glass in one throw, pouring himself another and with his right leg over his left thigh, he angled himself towards me. He rubbed his bristly jaw, and spoke. "That was your father. He said he was planning to leave the country and to tell you he'd be leaving in less than a month's time and that you're going with him. Seth, too. I won't allow that to happen." He leaned forward, serious gaze fixed on me, mouth moving. "I need you to tell me what's going through your mind right now, Shay."

"Did he know who he was speaking to?"

Cole hesitated, deliberating on whether or not to lie, then chose the truth. "He greeted me by name." He watched me for my reaction.

"So he has eyes on the place?" I half-rose from my seat, troubled and frowning. "What are we still doing here?"

"He's not going to attack." He uncapped the bottle of bourbon, filled my glass and instructed me to drink to gather my nerves and keep a hold on myself.

"How do you know that?" My tone was frantic, my words were slightly coloured with anger.

"I would kill him." He said simply. "The coward wouldn't dare face me. He congratulated me on my reputation, told me to keep you safe while he goes away for a while before he'd be back to ...You need not look so worried. He won't go near you."

"Except he was just here," I threw a hand in my hair, brushing it away, a restless habit. I stood, needing to pace the room as I spoke of my befuddled and frenzied thoughts. "He was in the house while I was asleep and whilst Irvin was downstairs in the kitchen, high as a kite. He could've done whatever he liked but he didn't. Well, I don't know what he was doing. I woke up because I had a bad dream and I went out on the landing, heard voices so I checked Irvin's room, and saw him at the top of the stairs... He mimed slicing my throat and then disappeared out of the front door. Why not attack then?" I wasn't entirely certain on the hazy details considering my just-woken state and terror and the dimness of the hallway, however, something felt off about the whole situation. Was that my father? Could it have been him? I felt myself wavering on the details: his outline was slighter, stooped, smaller and the wave seemed childish, a mockery and he was a very serious, uptight man. Although, now saying that, I didn't really know who my father was. I would've never guessed he could hold a grudge for so many years and then flip and kill families unrelated to the murder of my mother. Although his appearance likely would change after a year on the run.

Still.

Something didn't feel right about the entire situation. It was weird, a feeling I couldn't shake.

I stared down at the letter. Now this, this I was sure was from him, it was his signature of abuse. IT'S TIME FOR A FAMILY REUNION. The letter reeked of his lingering scent. He wanted to torment me, and he succeeded: I was suffocating, chest full of anguish.

"Do you love your father?" Cole asked quietly.

I shrugged.

"Shay." He set his glass down and met me mid-stride, hands on my waist, intense eyes unwavering, voice grim. "I need an answer."

"Why?"

"I don't want you to hate me if I kill him."

My face fell as I sobered up on the realisation he was serious. A heaviness settled like lead in my gut. "I don't–" a sigh escaped my lips, and I felt as if I was pleading. "He's my father. Let me deal with him."

"He's threatening you," Cole's hands fell by his side and he took a step away from me, turned away slightly, voice low and sinister. "I'll murder the sonafabitch. I'll bury him so far underground no-one will ever find him. Think of your grandmother. Are you going to stand by and allow him to roam free? He'll go after your uncle next and you know it. He's a feral dog and he needs to be put down. It's the only way."

I was reminded of Cebrián and his tag of Oscar: a dog that needed to be put down, like father like son. I came to a standstill. There was no avoiding fate, not after what happened today. With a heavy heart, I said tiredly. "I'll kill him."

"Then he'll be after your brother–" Cole was suddenly deaf to what I had just said.

In a flash, I was hot-tempered and irritable, I barked furiously. "I SAID, I'll kill him. Alright!? Drop it." Stiffness set in my choleric expression, and I glared hatefully at nothing in particular. My senses were buzzing with hot energy. I itched to lash out. Break something. Or hurt someone.

Cole pressed his lips together, furrowed his heavy brows. He didn't pursue the subject any further, choosing to allow it to disintegrate in the air before us. Tension settled in the room like an unwanted guest, amused by our antics and our stubbornness to make amends first. "Very well," Cole said crisply, he picked up his glass, threw back the last of his drink, set the glass down with a heavy thud, and looked at me for a short moment before shaking his head slightly and taking his leave.

I counted thirty seconds after his departure before mimicking his footsteps out of the room. James and Cole were conversing at the end of the hallway in low voices, and their conversation came to a halt upon my intrusion. James offered. "Irvin is asleep in the guest room. Why don't you join him? You must be tired."

"I'm going out,"

"Where to?" Cole demanded immediately, striding to meet me.

"I don't know yet. I need some air. I'm going for a walk. Alone."

"That's not a good idea," he grabbed my arm.

"Don't," I wrenched my arm away furiously. I pulled my top up, baring my stomach and the holster that homed the grey semiautomatic. "If anyone so much as looks at me the wrong way, I'll shoot and splatter the brains across the pavement. There's no need to grow grey hairs, Cole, baby. I can take care of myself."

"I'm coming with you."

"You're being overbearing."

"And you love me for it," he placed a chaste kiss on my cheek, twisting the door handle and shooting me a bold smile. "How can you be mad at me, Shay? I'm adorable."

My anger subsided slightly and I loosened my hold on my temper. I unlocked the doors to the Shogun. "Join me for a–"

The bomb blast was sudden, explosive and deafening.

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