Charade

Vic

I dropped the gun onto the dirt.

James lowered the gun from Lily's head and walked over to me. He bent down and grabbed the gun, looked at me, and smiled. Then he walked over to Benjamin, lying dead on the ground. Blood pooled around him, spilling out of his chest. James leered over him, examining the corpse. Suddenly, he pulled back his foot and sent one hard kick in Benjamin's abdomen. I gasped, scared he'd give us away, but Benjamin stayed perfectly still.

"Good job," James said, turning around. "I'm impressed. Lily here didn't think you had it in you, but I knew. I knew."

I looked over at Lily. She was trembling, wailing, tears running down her cheeks. If only she knew.

"I did what you asked." I told him. "Now, let us go."

James's smile grew.

"No, no. I don't think so. I've got something else in mind."

I clenched my fists.

"You said if I killed him, we could go!" I screamed.

"I did say that," he admitted. "But then I got to thinking, why should you get to watch your little girl grow up, fall in love, get married, all of that, when you took away mine?"

My lips thinned to a line.

"But, as for you... Well, your punishment differs from his," James said, jerking his head towards Benjamin. "For you, it's much worse. You get to live. You get to leave this place and carry with you what transpired tonight. Then, when you can't take it anymore, when the alcohol and the drugs can't stop the flow of memories any longer, you'll put a bullet in your brain. And then you'll understand. You didn't kill my Dana with your own two hands, but you're the reason she's dead – the same way I'll be the reason you are, too. But I'm not a monster, and I will give you a gift to prove as much. I will give you the gift of goodbye. So tell me, Vic, is there anything you'd like to say to your daughter before I take her from you?"

Benjamin, from behind him, moved his head ever so slightly and opened his eyes to look at me. I bit my lip. He nodded.

"Yes, there is."

I looked to Lily, tears streaming down her face.

"Lily, sweetheart," I began. "Duck."

Benjamin pulled a small gun from his ankle and fired. The bullet pierced through James's neck and disbelief filled his face. His shaky hand tried to hold up the gun, but blood flowed from his throat, running down his clothes. His knees buckled beneath him, and he fell like the monster he was. Benjamin grabbed his gun and sprinted towards Lily to untie her. I slowly, steadily, walked towards James and looked down at him, smiling.

"Goodbye, James." I said evenly. "Thank you for the gift."

The life drained out of James's eyes and his eyes lost the menace that had once filled them. I looked up at Lily, who was clinging to Benjamin, then she looked at me. Real, honest tears filled my eyes when she sprinted towards me. I took her in my arms and held her tightly, both of us balling like small children.

"Are you okay?" I asked, holding her face in my hands. "Where did he hurt you?"

I looked down and saw cuts to her thighs and upper arms, blood still oozing into her pyjamas.

"Oh, god," I said, touching them gently. "It's okay, it's okay. You're alright."

I hugged her again, holding her against my chest.

"But how?" She asked. "How did you do it?"

Lily turned around to Benjamin, who stood, covered in the fake blood. He shrugged off his jumper to reveal a bulletproof vest, courtesy of my father's junk-filled, paranoia-induced, basement-safe-room, along with a few bags of water and food colouring, strapped to his chest.

"That's what we're good at, isn't it?" Benjamin asked. "Making people believe in things that aren't true."

Lily stepped towards him, examining our work, then looked up at Benjamin and hugged him tightly.

"Don't ever do that again." She said.

I turned away and looked at James's dead body, sprawled across the bloody ground, and felt something stir inside me. I couldn't help but ask myself: how long would it take before I stopped thinking about this night?

I looked at Benjamin and Lily, my two children, hugging and sobbing. It was then that I realized it didn't matter if I thought about this until the day I died, because they were here and he was not.

And I suppose that was good enough.

© A.G. Travers 2015