The Red Roots (15 page)

He rounded the front of the car and hopped in. Gavin pulled out of the parking spot and drove down a backstreet.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Why does anyone do what we do? Power. Control.”

“There’s no ‘we’ in this situation.”

“Come off it, Isla. You ruin people by clicking your mouse. Stop professing a false innocence.”

“I’m not, but I’ve never kidnapped or threatened a child. I swear, if you harmed a single eyelash, I’ll kill you. I’m going to anyway, but I’ll prolong your suffering.”

Gavin steered past the street where reporter’s camped out in front of the church. The engine roared as the vehicle gained speed. The rumble of an explosion shook the SUV. Isla jerked in her seat, and through the back window, to her horror, she saw a fireball erupt from the church. Flames shot out from the windows that lined the sanctuary.

The crowd ran and covered their heads. Debris and smoke blanketed the surrounding buildings. Screams stung her ears, but the uproar wasn’t from the people outside, the screams were Isla’s.

Reed. Carys. Dead.

Isla pounded her fists against Gavin. She cursed. She yelled. She cried. He killed her family, her best friend, and her husband.

“Stop it. You’re going to make me crash.”

“Good! You killed all of them. You killed your wife. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“If you don’t stop, Jules will be next.”

Isla froze. Through blurred vision she could see only the tower of the church. Sirens screamed in the distance. She sank into the seat and cried. Isla couldn’t catch her breath. She gasped and coughed like she was trapped in the burning sanctuary.

Her husband was dead. All those years wasted. They had finally connected, and she let her guard down and admitted her love for him. Isla thought she’d lost him before but this time . . . the explosion with everyone in the sanctuary. First the safe house, now the church. Gavin was a psychopath.

Isla wiped her swollen eyes, mascara smeared under her lashes. She looked out the window. They were heading toward Devlin Estates. Isla would kill him before they crossed through the gates.

SHE MOURNED WITH sorrow in her heart and vengeance on her tongue.

For the enemy would fall at her feet, and triumph would be sung.

Her hands tint red.

Her heart thrust black.

She mourned her love, for he was gone.

She could not save him, but she could save the one whose light was meant to live on.

GAVIN SLOWED. HE pressed a button above the rearview mirror, and the gates slowly swung open. Isla squeezed her right fist shut. Tight. Packed with rage. She anchored her left hand and gripped the side of her seat. With a burst of adrenaline, Isla powered through the air. Her fist struck Gavin in the nose. Without a second to lose she hit him again. Blood gushed. He yelled and blindly swatted at her. She shoved his face away and dug her nails into his skin. As they tussled, the car continued to move.

Isla unbuckled his seatbelt. Gavin made a move for his gun but she yanked the steering wheel, aiming for the brick wall that enclosed the property. He yelled and pulled at her arms. They lurched as the car zigzagged through the lawn. Gavin slammed down on the brakes. Isla unbuckled and reached across his lap. He grabbed her hair but she stretched her arm until it felt like it could pop from it’s place.

The tips of her fingers touched the gun. Her side shifted the car into park, and they jolted forward. Isla couldn’t reach the gun but she could grab the keys. She turned the key and pulled it from the ignition. Gavin wrenched her hair again. Isla sat up, and with the key in hand and all the strength she could gather, she stabbed the key into his eye socket.

Again and again.

Isla switched to the other eye. His roars and violent words didn’t slow her. His thrashing or swipes didn’t matter. She continued to attack. Blood splattered over her face and the interior of the SUV. The insides of the windows were covered in red. All Isla saw was Reed and Carys burning, her entire universe decimated. She was taught to attack and keep attacking until the aggressor stilled. Isla was an animal shredding her prey to nothing.

Gavin finally stopped fighting back. His arms lay limp at his sides, his face barely recognizable. His throat wet with blood. Isla’s chest heaved. She dropped the keys and reached inside his jacket for the gun. If Gavin didn’t have Jules, then who did? She climbed out the passenger side, leaving red streaks on the seat as she slid out. The car had dug into the lawn just beyond the gates. Isla could see the patio doors. She tore off toward the house.

Her daughter was in there with God only knew who. Isla’s lungs burned. Her breathing was tight but she kept running. Though her legs wanted to fold, she refused to lessen her pace. Sweat dripped down her forehead, over her temples, mixing with Gavin’s blood.
Jules is in trouble. Run faster. Run damn it.

She reached the patio, and with heavy legs she climbed the steps where she noticed the glass door was partially opened. Isla released the safety on the gun and inched closer. Winded, she pushed the door open and walked in.

Cold lips parted, Isla stood just inside the kitchen door. The amount of blood was unreal. She could taste it in the back of her throat. Smears of red ran along the walls, down the refrigerator, and spattered on the countertops. Blood and tissue combined, thick and near black in color, close to her feet.

Isla’s lungs locked even though they screamed for oxygen.

The crimson view swallowed her. It was the safe house all over again.

A symphony of birds sang a murderous tune from the garden, then a hum. She heard a low hum. It was a hymn Isla knew all too well. She feared its words, for Ronan sang the
Rock of Ages
to her while lashing her flesh raw. The melody trembled her bones and rendered her in a state of terror.

The hum grew louder.

Her daughter’s face snapped Isla from her trance. Jules stood across the kitchen, hands at her sides, tears flowing down her cheeks. She didn’t speak. She stared at Isla with pale eyes.

The hum turned to words.

Stepping behind Jules was Henry; he laid bloody hands onto her shoulders. But he was dead. Isla saw his body fall from the SUV—
He was dead.

Henry continued to finish the hymn. A sea of blood separated her from Jules and a lunatic.

“Remember that song, Isla? I know you do, I can see it on your face.”

“You. You were dead. I saw your body.”

“In a state of panic to save your daughter you saw what you wanted. We’ve been catching up.” He squeezed Jules’s shoulders looking Isla up and down. “I see you took care of Gavin for me.”

“It’s okay, baby. Everything will be alright,” Isla said to Jules as she sobbed.

“Why must you tell tales? She deserves the truth.”

“What truth is that?”

“Her mother is a wicked whore. She promised me a family . . .”

Isla stepped closer to them. “I promised nothing of the sort.”

Henry’s brown glass eyes darkened. He removed his hands from Jules’s shoulders leaving a stain on her t-shirt. His thinning blonde spikes were speckled red as was his worn beige skin. Henry removed his dark-framed glasses and wiped the lenses with the hem of his gory polo.

“You entrusted Jules in my care. I was her father, not him. I was there through all her tears and smiles, not him. You said to me after you birthed Jules, ‘we are a family,’ and I believed you. I trusted you.”

“I didn’t mean us, Henry.” Isla moved closer,
halfway there.
“I’m grateful for all you did, but what did you think would happen? Especially now, after you blew up a damn church with my family inside. Gavin helped you kill Ellis.”

“I’m your family! Not the Pierces. With them gone, they’re no longer a problem for us. You weren’t supposed to love them, to love him. Gavin was easy to convince, to see my side.”

“You slaughtered an entire family, Henry. Do you get what that means?”

Henry put his glasses back on. “You, me, and Jules are a family.” His voice raised. “We understand each other. I saved you from Ronan. I’ve worked with Ellis to give you everything. I accepted your sham marriage to Reed because I knew you would return to me, but that wasn’t to be. You lied. You betrayed. You’ve turned our daughter against me.”

“She’s not your daughter.” Isla snapped.

Henry yanked his shirt over his head and turned around. Her fingers touched her gritted lips as her eyes roamed over the flat, pale scars. His muscles tightened below the marks of brutality. She knew Ronan had bestowed the same physical abuse on his only child, but he’d never showed her his scars.

The veins, which pushed spoiled blood through the darkest cuts of her body, were cruel and greedy. The red roots grew beneath the house of debauchery and spread through each room like pestilence, sickening the life that dwelled within. Walker Plantation was an inferno of godless torment and evil.

The gun shook in her hand. She should’ve shot him when he turned around but he was too close to Jules. Isla was near arm’s reach of her, but Henry pulled a gun from his waistband and pointed it at her. Jules cried out, but Isla instructed her to stay put.

“Kick the gun over to me.”

“I’m tired of being told what to do today.”

“Don’t push me.”

Isla did as she was told. He then kicked it across the kitchen out of range.

His face reddened. “Did you ever love me? Even for a second? After all I did for you and Jules.”

“I did love you as a friend and as family, but nothing more. I’m sorry that I led you to believe otherwise.”

“You’re sorry? Pathetic. I believed killing your parents would make you stronger, worthy of our family, but I was wrong.”

“You were the driver?” Isla’s nostrils flared. “Why? Did Ronan put you up to it?”

“No. I’ve loved you since the day your grandmother married Ronan. Your innocence was my only hope. If we shared the same pain—”

“You’re the catalyst of my nightmares, my suffering. Did you encourage Ellis to accept me? Did you help Martin? We’re confessing our sins, are we not? Tell me.”

“The Pierce family was perfect because of your relationship with Carys. I waited patiently, but I decided to work my own tech skills. Casting doubt on your
family
was easy. They’re criminals. Reed wasn’t exempt.”

Isla shook her head. “You shifted blame and guilt. You’re the hacker. Martin didn’t have a clue. No one did. You’re sick, Henry.”

“I will admit I went a bit crazy, but I have covered my tracks and yours. No one will blame you. Are all the fragments you’ve ignored sliding into place? I admire Reed’s gallant move killing Ronan. One less person for me, but it’s not enough,” he muttered under his breath. “I love you. Please love me. Stay the path, Isla. We can take Jules and leave, go anywhere you want. We can start a life together. The Pierces can’t stop us.”

Anger erupted. “Because they’re all dead. Was the ambush at the safe house your doing?”

“It was, with Gavin’s help, of course. He was far too greedy, but he was resourceful and loyal.”

“What did he want?”

“Walker money. Walker connections. Cash in Carys’ life insurance policy as a gift to his mistress.”

Her mind was a blunder, a steep trench into the chaos. Disconnected from reality, her vision focused. Jules face was all she saw. Her daughter always reminded her of spring, fresh and vibrant. She failed at her task. Jules wasn’t safe; she never was. Isla looked to others to build her strength when the entire time it was inside of her.

There was no other violent beast than a mother protecting her child.

No discussion.

No mercy.

Not in the wild and not for Isla Pierce. She was a survivor—a warrior.

Henry took his eyes off of her for one second, and Isla jumped toward Jules. She yanked her shirt, and pulled her down. Caught off guard, Henry raised the gun but was rocked off balance in the process. Isla dove at his legs. The gun fell from his hand and landed behind Isla. Henry’s arms flailed as he fell back, just like his father had.

She’d rip his heart right from his chest.

Henry’s body thudded against the bloody floor. He groaned but found the strength to kick her in the stomach, and she fell back, the air knocked from her. Heat flushed her face. Her hands were sticky and slick, and blood marred her clothes. Her abdomen ached.