There's no place like HOME (Emma Frost Book 8) Page 9

  Sophia and Jack looked at each other. “It’s probably just a coincidence,” Sophia said.

  She didn’t sound convincing. Just as abruptly as he had started screaming, Victor suddenly stopped. His eyes rolled back, and his body went soft. His legs collapsed under him, and I caught him just as he was about to fall. I picked him up in my arms and realized he was sound asleep.

  “Let me get you back to bed,” I whispered. “You too, Maya. You need your rest.”

  “I better get home as well,” Jack said, and grabbed his jacket.

  “Yeah, me too,” Sophia said with a yawn. “I’ll drop in tomorrow to make sure you’re alright.”

  “Thank you guys for coming tonight, so I didn’t have to be alone.”

  The two of them left and I carried Victor up the stairs. Maya followed me, after having locked the front door for me. Since the neighbor incident, I was being extra careful to not have any windows or doors left unlocked. Morten had told me the killer probably came in through a window in the basement, since they found it wide open. I wondered how a grown man could have gotten through those small windows, and figured we weren’t dealing with a big guy.

  I placed Victor in his bed and kissed him, wondering if he would sleep through the rest of the night. I walked out to Maya in the hallway. Knowing Victor was now safe and calm, I couldn’t stop thinking about the killings again. Why would the killer take the victim’s heart? Neither of the victims had been sexually abused, nor had anything in the house been stolen. The majority of killings had a sexual motive, or had something to do with money. This seemed to have nothing to do with either.

  What was it about then? Was it Paul Beckman’s revenge for his daughter? But what was the idea of the red shoes then? Did his daughter wear red shoes? Did they belong to her, maybe?

  “I remembered something again,” Maya said, as I walked her to her room. She crept under the covers and I kissed her forehead. “I know, honey. I’m so happy you have finally started remembering things. I’m certain you will remember everything soon. Then, everything will be less scary for you.”

  “I remembered something else,” she said. “Just before, when Victor was screaming, I remembered something else.”

  “What was that?”

  “I remember asking one night you if you and dad were splitting up. I was a small child. Victor was just a baby. You had a huge fight.”

  I felt a knot in my stomach. I remembered something too from that time. I remembered the feeling. The sense that something was wrong, the terrifying feeling that it wasn’t going to last, that we were breaking apart…the uncertainty.

  Exactly the way I was feeling now about Morten and me.

  I exhaled deeply at the realization. “And what did I say?”

  “You told me that was never going to happen.”

  30

  June 2009

  IT WAS THE HAPPIEST day of her life. Louise knew all brides thought so on their wedding day, but she also knew that their happiness couldn’t be measured against hers. Hers was special. It was more than normal.

  She was ecstatic.

  Finally, she was breaking out of her shell. Finally, she was no longer going to be her mother’s little fragile girl, who couldn’t do anything on her own, let alone make any decisions.

  She had made one now. A big one. An irreversible one.

  She twirled in the splendor of her wedding dress as she walked up the aisle of the prison church.

  It wasn’t her father walking by her side, giving her away. It was one of Bjarke’s best friends, who had agreed to step up. Her parents had refused to come, and told her that if she married that monster, they would never speak to her again.

  Even better, she had thought. Another reason to do this.

  Not only was she marrying the man of her dreams, she was also getting rid of her lifelong plague. It was what they called a win-win situation, wasn’t it?

  Bjarke was waiting for her next to the prison priest, smiling from ear to ear as well. The look in his eyes made Louise shed a tear of joy. He really loved her. He really did. She could tell. She had seen it in his eyes every Wednesday when she came to visit him, and she felt it on her body when he did all those things to her in the visiting room. She knew he loved her when he held her down and pressed that thing of his inside of her mouth. She knew he loved her when he almost choked her in an act of passion while making love to her…and when he played those games where she had to pretend she was someone else, like a young girl on her way home from school and he pretended to be raping her. She just knew it. He’d told her over and over again.

  You know, they say that you only hurt the one you love, he would whisper in her ear. And then he would do just that. He would hurt her. He’d bruise her badly in places the guards wouldn’t see, and she would take it, let him, because it showed her how crazy he was about her, and she had never known love like that. He told her he knew what she liked. He knew she liked pain. And they were perfect for one another, because he liked to see people in pain.

  He was so smart. Much smarter than Louise. And he had so much life experience. He knew everything. Louise felt so secure with him, and she couldn’t wait to become his wife. And she was okay with only seeing him once a week for the next sixteen years.

  What’s the worst that can happen? She had asked herself after his proposal in the visiting room at the prison. What if he’s lying? What if he did kill those people?

  Well, at least he was in jail, right? Louise believed in his innocence, but she also knew she wasn’t the brightest among girls. She figured that, even if he was lying, even if he was as bad as everyone tried to tell her he was, then at least he would be in prison. There was no way he could ever harm her. Not that he would ever want to. He loved her. It was different with her. He had told her that she was the first one he had ever loved.

  It was perfectly safe.

  Her parents had tried to stop the wedding from happening. They tried to disempower her with the argument that her mental illness made her unstable and unable to make decisions on her own.

  But they hadn’t succeeded. They were still working on it, and therefore Bjarke and Louise had decided to move the wedding up. And now it was too late. Now, the priest was looking at Louise and waiting for her to say the most important words she would ever say in her life.

  “I do.”

  The priest pronounced them husband and wife, and they kissed. The church was empty, except for Bjarke’s friend, who now clapped.

  It had been all over the papers that the notorious killer Bjarke Lund was getting married, and Louise had a hard time walking in the street without being attacked by journalists or people wanting to tell her how stupid she was for marrying him.

  She didn’t care. It was all worth it. Now, she was a married woman, and no one, other than Bjarke, could ever tell her what to do.

  No one.

  31

  July 2014

  “I DON’T UNDERSTAND why I have to see him when you tell me he’s not even my real dad,” Maya said over breakfast.

  I was exhausted and didn’t want to fight about this. It was a good sign that she was arguing; it was more like her, but I wasn’t in the mood for this right now. I had slept awfully, tossing and turning and thinking about Morten and why he hadn’t at least texted me. Didn’t he care about me at all? Or was he angry with me? Today, I had arranged for my ex-husband to come and see his daughter. He was on a trip to a city close to us anyway, so he had called and asked if he could see his children. Maya wasn’t his biological daughter, but I still wanted him in her life. He was the closest she came to having a father.

  “Because he was your dad. Maybe not biologically, but for most of your years growing up, he was the only dad you had,” I said, and finished my cup of coffee. It wasn’t working today. The caffeine didn’t seem to do the trick. Victor was looking forward to seeing his father again and had run upstairs to comb his hair to look good for him.

  “But I hardly remember him. What about my
real dad? Shouldn’t I see him instead?” Maya argued.

  A part of me enjoyed arguing with her again. I had missed that. It was good. Maybe she was, after all, improving.

  “You don’t know him,” I said, and poured myself another cup in the hope that it would kick in at some point. It had to. I wasn’t going through this entire day feeling like this.

  “I don’t know Michael either.”

  “Don’t call him that. He’s your father.”

  Maya exhaled. “I don’t remember him. All I remember is the two of you fighting and me being scared that you were going to split up, which you promised me you wouldn’t, and then you did anyway. I feel like you’re letting me leave with a stranger.”

  I sat down again and closed my eyes while rubbing my forehead. “It’s just a lunch, Maya. Your dad has driven all the way from Copenhagen to take you out for a lunch. Can’t you at least give him that?”

  “I guess.”

  “Then go up and get dressed. He’ll be here in half an hour.”

  Maya rolled her eyes and got up. I hid a smile, but it was hard. I felt like cheering and laughing.

  My daughter just rolled her eyes at me! She’s back!

  At least her strange emotionless stage was phasing out. I was thrilled about that. She was acting more like a teenager again. But she still only had two memories back in almost three months. At this rate, she certainly wasn’t going to remember anything from school, and there were only three weeks left until the start of school. I was frustrated and very worried about how this was going to work out. I wondered if hiring a tutor would help, or if it would end up confusing her more.

  I looked towards the ceiling. “I need help here! God, please help me out. I can’t do this alone. Send help, would you?”

  Michael arrived late. Fifteen minutes later than planned. He looked confused as he stepped out of the car. I was waiting with Victor in the front yard, where he had been standing with his little backpack on for at least twenty minutes. He had put his rocks in the backpack. He insisted on taking them, even if they were only going to be gone for a few hours.

  “You’re late,” I grumbled.

  “I know,” he said. “The traffic was crazy getting off the ferry. What’s going on downtown? The road leading behind the church was barricaded. I had to drive all the way around the city to get here.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know,” I said. “There’s a knitting festival going on, but that’s not until next weekend. That usually draws a couple of thousand people here.”

  Michael chuckled. “A knitting festival? You sure you don’t miss Copenhagen?”

  “Not even a little bit.” I looked at Victor. “He’s been ready for a long time. Be good to him, will you? He’s really missed having a father in his life.”

  “Well, I’m not the one who decided to move all the way out here,” Michael said. “Kind of feels like you’re trying to keep me away from my children.”

  “Now, wait a minute,” I said. “You were the one who told me you couldn’t handle the two of them, and especially Victor…that Victoria couldn’t handle them. You told me you couldn’t have them visiting. That was before we moved.”

  I heard a noise and turned. There was Maya. She was standing right behind me. I smiled awkwardly, afraid she had heard what I said.

  “Hi, sweetie. You ready?”

  I could tell by the look on her face that she had heard everything. She looked hurt. That she was showing emotions was good, but this wasn’t the kind I was looking for. Her eyes were flickering from side to side, like she was suddenly remembering something.

  “Victoria,” she said.

  “Yes. That’s daddy’s new wife. You remember her?” I asked.

  “I lived with her,” she said. Then she looked up at her father. I could see such distrust in her eyes. “You…you…you hit her. And you hit me. That’s why I decided to run away. That’s why I stole the car. I wanted to get away. Where was I going?” Maya held a hand to her head.

  I stared angrily at Michael. “What in…you hit her? You hit your wife? You hit Maya?”

  Michael looked confused. “I…I’m sorry. I was stressed out that morning. The baby had been keeping me up all night. Victoria was on my case…nagging me about Maya, so I lost it…I know it’s bad…Maya came in and started yelling at me that I couldn’t treat my wife like that, so I…I’m sorry. It was just a slap.”

  Maya touched her cheek. Then she shook her head. “No, it wasn’t. It was more than that. You used your fist. You hit both Victoria and me with a clenched fist,” Maya said, and took a step backwards.

  I felt awful. Michael had more than once slapped me across the face, but he had never touched the children, and he had never done more than slap me…never with a clenched fist.

  I grabbed Victor and pulled him back. Michael looked angry all of a sudden. I didn’t feel comfortable.

  “I think you should go, Michael,” I said.

  “Not without my children,” he hissed. “I’m allowed to see my children. Come, Victor. Come with me. We’re going to have fun today.”

  “Not today, Victor. Your dad is about to leave.”

  “For Christ sake, Emma. It’s just a lunch. I’ve driven a long way to get here. Now, let me have my children before I get really mad.”

  “Not today, Michael. I’m sorry, kids, but I think we all need a break to think our arrangement over.”

  Michael walked closer. His face was turning red.

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means I need to know that you have your anger issues under control before I let you be alone with your children again. That’s what it means.”

  Michael growled, then reached out his hand and slapped me across the face. It hurt like crazy.

  “Run, kids! Run into the house,” I yelled.

  Maya grabbed her brother and tried to drag him towards the house. I had no idea how much Victor understood of the situation, but he wasn’t moving. He stared at his sister’s hands on his arm. Michael moved fast. Before I could react, he pushed Maya hard and caused her to fall backward with a scream, then he grabbed Victor’s arm and dragged him towards the car.

  “This one is mine, so I’m taking him,” Michael said. “You’ll never see him again. I promise you that much. I’ll fight for my rights to him.”

  “Michael, don’t do this. You have no idea how to handle him!” I yelled after them.

  Victor started screaming.

  “You know he doesn’t like to be touched!” I said.

  Michael forced the screaming Victor inside his car, and then slammed the door. “That’s another thing,” he said, walking angrily towards me with his fist in the air. I was afraid he would hit me again.

  “You put all these ideas into his head that he is sick and can’t be touched and all that. But it’s nothing but nonsense. You’re smothering him, making him sick with all your fussing. Now, I’m going to make my son into a man. I’ll touch him if I want to, and I’ll teach him to be a man.”

  “Michael. You don’t know what you’re doing. He was doing so well. You’ll set him back with this. Please, don’t take him from me!”

  I was yelling at the top of my lungs, while pulling on the handle of the car. But it was locked. Michael smiled.

  “You’re never getting him back. I’ll get the best lawyer in the world, and who do you think they’ll give him to? The deranged lone mother who is a loose cannon and in a very loose relationship, or the stable married couple with stable income and a stable life?”

  I pushed Michael in anger. “Give him back to me. Now!”

  Michael pushed me back. I fell to the ground and hurt my back. I was crying heavily now.

  Please don’t let this happen. Dear God. Please don’t!

  I felt desperate. Michael walked closer and bent over me, his clenched fist lifted into the air ready to hit me. I could hear Maya screaming behind me and raised my hands to protect my face. I closed my eyes and screamed, when sudde
nly, a voice cut through the air.

  “Step away from the woman.”

  “What the hell…?” Michael said, then turned.

  I looked up and saw Sophia. She was holding a gun in her hands. She was shaking like crazy. Behind her stood Jack.

  “Y…you heard her. G…g…get away from Emma.”

  Michael scoffed and put his hands in the air. “I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m the victim here. I just came here to be with my kids, and she’s trying to keep me away from my own children.”

  “It’s funny how she’s on the ground with bruises on her face when you’re the victim,” Sophia said. “I know your type. I used to date them. Save your smart remarks for court. Release the kid,” Sophia said, and pointed at the car. “Let Victor out.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Michael said, chuckling. “Are these your friends? Are these the kind of people you’re hanging out with? Scarecrow and Tin Man here? Two village idiots?”

  “She told you to release the kid.” Jack was remarkably clear when he spoke. His voice didn’t even shake. “Do it!”

  Sophia moved towards him like she was going to actually shoot him. She was really angry. I had never seen her quite like this. Michael was taken aback. He looked scared.

  “Okay. Okay. Easy with the gun,” he said. He found the car key and opened the door. Victor jumped out and ran towards me. He threw himself in my arms. I cried inconsolably and held him tight. My little boy, who never wanted me to touch him…suddenly, he wouldn’t let go of me.

  “This is not over, Emma,” Michael yelled, as he got back into his car. “Believe me!”

  I held Victor close while Michael spun the wheels down the street and disappeared. Maya ran to me and hugged us, and soon Jack and Sophia joined in. I was sobbing heavily and thanking them.

  “And you always said that me having a gun in the house was a bad idea, huh?” Sophia said, with tears in her eyes. “Guess you won’t say that again.”