Girl With The Golden Cat Eyes - 25 2

The man slammed the bottle on the bar top so hard, Jax could have sworn it could have broken. Edward’s grip was white and he could see he gripped it fiercely. He was mad, grieving over his girls, and he lost his way.

“We loved you boy,” Edward whined as more tears came. Maddin and me. We always hoped you would have been our son-in-law, but you had to go and kill her.

Jax had no defense. He had been stupid and young. Despite that being no excuse for his sins, it was all he had.

“You can hit me in your want,” Jax said as he looked the crying man in the eyes.

“That isn’t going to fix anything,” Edward turned back to his whiskey, but Jax saw the desire to rip into him. “I’m too old for that, and Cyril will be mad with me if I do. She’s had her heart broken once too many. My little star trusts me, and unlike you, I cherish that.”

“I know. I didn’t deserve her.” Jax agreed wholeheartedly.

He had fallen for an angel but dishonored her by sleeping with the snake. And it had bitten him in his ass. He had been so lonely, never able to touch the one he loved. He just wanted someone to hold in his darkest moment. Yet, that weakness had cost him dearly. He was less than a man. Less than an insect. He had no more worth than the dirt upon the earth.

“You know,” Edward began. “All that money I give you, that’s all Cyril and Maddin’s.”

“What?” Jax turned to Edward. “Wait, wasn’t–”

“The trust fund was Maddin and Cyril’s last wish,” Edward said. “That you’d be taken care of after my little girl was gone. Despite being hospitalized, and my daughter, I did pay her for what she did. Even against her, and those fucking board members’ wishes. Even bought her that house in Malibu for you guys… Maddin… I don’t know her reason.”

“Wait…” Jax stiffened. He was aware of where the money came from; however, he was not aware that of a house in Malibu. “I never heard of this house before.”

“Of course you didn’t.” Edward rolled his jaw as his merry-go-round of emotions swirled to its new target. “I had to sell it before one of those fucking board members tried to steal it! The stuff they’re doing, the things they’ve done, I’m just learning about. I’m thinking of fixing that soon, though.

“W-What are you going to do…?” Jax felt a little fear. If you’d known Edward for a week while Cyril was alive – You’d know how fiercely he’d protect her. He was domineering, petty, and was not above underhanded tricks. Jax had an inkling of how Edward used to be. He’d heard rumors. By his late wife’s words, the man now had calmed dramatically down when Cyril had been born.

“So,” Jax paused to contemplate his words. “Criminal proceedings, or just an all our war.

“Neither,” Edward’s old smile turned sinister. “It’s going to a massacre.

∞♥∞

The rear passenger door of the SUV opened, and a black umbrella fanned. It’s inky plastic collected the rain that fell from the grey night sky. Out stepped Edward, his suit slightly disheveled from a small fight he and Jax got into. Despite what that boy had done to his little girl, he couldn’t… fully hate him. He too had been an idiotic child. Ruined love for temporary pleasures. Despite what he said to him, he couldn’t fault it. Edward wasn’t a perfect man, but Cyril…

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Cyril had been the star that guided him in the night. Maddin had been the moon that lit his path onward. All that he had done, all that he was. His family didn’t get filthy rich by being clean all the time. He’d done things. Those girls had set him straight. Given him a purpose. Given him a reason to make amends, and a purpose. Now that both of them were gone, he threw it all to the wind.

“Everything is ready, Mr. Bailey.” A man dressed in black tactical overalls appeared in front of him. He had been more occupied with seeing the night sky that his surroundings. He appraised the man for a second, noted his rifle slung across his chest. There was a pistol on his leg too.

“Good.” Edward nodded.

He seemed to age a few years with those words as he moved. His once confident stride, now no more than a Death Row Inmate’s last shuffle to the chair. His aim? His mansion. The mansion he had raised his daughter in. The mansion where he had wed his wife. The mansion that was supposed to be passed to his only child. It was the very same mansion where tens of men began to spread out. Their figures slowly melting away into shadows as they prepared.

He found himself frozen on top of the covered landing by the front door. His eyes wandered to the floor. There, by his feet, was the last physical thing his daughter had left. A misshapen yellow chalk drawing of a parrot.

“Daddy!” Cyril’s voice echoed in his ear. Her ghostly child figure was there, still drawing it. “Will you buy me a parrot too?! I want one just like the one we saw today!”

“Daddy will.” Edward’s voice roared in his ear. “James, have Katalin look up information on parrots. Have her also print out photos of ones for sale, and we’ll let her Cyril pick out which one she wants.”

The ghostly scene had wafted away by the cold wind. Or, had it been the passage of time? It had been the day of the incident. It had been one of the few times he sat, and played, with her. Actually played with her. It had been a beautiful day they had shared at the zoo, then they drew this picture together before they left. He had needed it; the stress had been eating him alive.

And after almost nine years, this single last drawing had been preserved. Held from the elements with science. It was held under a thick layer of clear coat.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” One of his guards asked him. “You’d be–“