I may understand their revenge, but it should have stopped with the deaths of Alexander and George. There’s no excuse for them ruining so many innocent lives, for making us suffer. A few tears fall softly onto the grass before I wipe my face again.
What is that saying about the sins of the fathers going over to the sons? I now believe it’s true. My father suffered for his father’s sins, my brothers for his, Darren and Lucinda for Harry’s … and so on and so on. It’s a vicious circle – pun intended. Let’s hope we’re done with both forever.
I sigh and take a deep breath. Then I take the letter from my pocket. I stare at my father’s handwriting – I remember it from my past. Our father told Jackson to get a key from Garcia. It belonged to a safety deposit box and inside was his will (he left each of us a shitload of money), a few photos of Mom and us, and then this letter – his side of the story. He wrote it the day after Harry appeared in my house.
I’d been holding it for a few days before I dared to read it. And since then, I’ve read it more than a hundred times, each time thinking about how unfair life can be.
10 November
To my dear children,
I am writing this letter to explain what I couldn’t before. And maybe hearing my side might get you to one day forgive me. To think of me as a loving father instead of a wimp who abandoned his children. Or a monster who did terrible things.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not making excuses. And I’m certainly no hero that’s for sure. But I’m also not the monster they make me out to be.
Kids, my father was not a good man. He was greedy and wanted everything for himself. A psychopathic narcissist who only cared about himself. But this letter is about me.
(Garcia can explain about your uncle Alex and how he came into the world. It’s not a pretty story.)
I was forced into the dark barbaric cut-throat part of the business, and I’m not sure if I’m a coward or a savior, but I truly believe that everything I did was because of love. Love for my family and love for my brother. I’m not saying this so you can pity me, you must understand that. Nor is it an excuse for what I did. Alberto and I committed some horrific crimes ordered by our fathers. Crimes that I could neither forgive myself for, nor forget about. Harry was by far not the only victim. I can only hope that my past won’t come to haunt you ever again.
There was a stage where I truly believed I could escape from that cruel world. But it was not meant to be. When your mother died … I had to disappear to get you guys out of there. It was the only way.
I must tell you that both Garcia and I have been trying over the years to right all our wrongs by doing good. He can explain that too.
Hopefully, it was enough to get me to where your mom is waiting.
I’m just glad that at least you have normal happy lives. I’ve been watching you all these years from afar. Going through every good and bad moment with you – either celebrating from a distance or crying in silence with you. I’m so very proud to call you my children.
I’m going to give myself over to Harry since he went into Mel’s house last night. I don’t know what’s going to happen from here on, but I hope his hatred will stop with me. My cancer returned, so I don’t have long to live anyway. Maybe I will find peace at last while keeping you from harm.
So if you’re reading this, it means I’m dead … and hopefully, you are all safe. All I want now is for you to have long happy lives, find love, and always be there for each other. And make me loads and loads of grandchildren. Can you do that for me?
Lastly, I want you to know that I’ve loved you all very very much. You guys are the best thing that ever happened in my shitty life. Hopefully, you can forgive me someday.
And I have just one last request – please lay my body next to my true love to rest. I’ve spent hours at that gravesite. It’s the only place I felt at peace and it’s time for us to be together again.
Love
Dad
x0x0x0
Now the tears mix with snot and I have to use my sleeve to wipe my face clean – as best I can. Harry has been holding and torturing my dad for more than two months, without us even knowing.
I never really knew my father and now I never will.
For years I’ve blamed him, even hated him, and thought he was the worst person ever, but it turned out he was a hero and the one who sacrificed most of all.
Beep-beep!
Startled I jerk my head up. Any beeping sound still shakes me to my core after the two weeks in the hospital. Okay, it was a week ago, but still. At least the therapy Damion forced on me is helping a little. I’m slowly starting to cope with everything.
I’m still getting nightmares … but it’s getting less … however, my phobia of guns increased. Hoplophobia is what my shrink calls it. It’s even worse than my fear of clowns now, which also increased since the attack in the bathroom.
I struggle to take my phone from my bag with my left hand still in a cast. Turns out I fractured both my radius and ulna when the car crashed, and Darren made it worse when he tied me up. The rest of my physical scars have healed more or less. The psychological ones will take a lot longer.
Damion: Happy Valentine’s Day my angel (pink-heart emoji)(pink-heart emoji) Let the hunt begin – backward.
What the hell? What is the man talking about?
Oh, I love the guy, but sometimes I can still strangle his beautiful freaking neck. I drop the phone on the grass and cover my eyes with a groan. How can he even think about Valentine’s Day at a time like this?
Beep-beep!
Seriously … doesn’t he realize that I’m in mourning, that I need some time alone?
Damion: Find me and strangle my handsome neck.
Ug, now he’s just being a dick. How he does that is beyond me, but it won’t save his neck. The asshole is invading my prescribed resting time. I mean, he was there when the doctors ordered me to rest and take things slow.
And this is the last chance I have for a while to visit this grave, since we’re all going on a breakaway to the ski-lodges up North. A break we all need and deserve.
“Hi, Sorella.” I can’t help but smile hearing the voice of one of my most favorite people on earth.
“Wuff.” Jinx runs up to me and slobbers me with kisses.
“I’m not sure if it’s too late … but I think I chose the wrong asshole brother,” I tease as I swing my head back over my shoulder and watch him walk closer, his leg healed so much that he doesn’t even limp. They all fought to save me, risking their lives for mine.
“Oh, I think it’s a little late to switch out now. And besides, you picked the better asshole. I’m not good boyfriend material.” He falls onto the grass next to me and gives me a careful not-to-hurt-you hug. I roll my eyes. Since I’ve been released from the hospital everybody has been fussing over me as if I’m some kind of freaky porcelain doll that can break at any moment.
“Are you done? You’ve been here every day for the past week.” I give him a how-do-you-know look and he pulls a face as if I just caught him stealing the last cupcake from the party platter.
“Alejandro Ronan O’Sullivan Grimm, are you following me?” I hit his shoulder playfully with my non-broken hand. He stares at the flowers.
“More like sticking with my brother while he’s following you … ” he laughs softly, “the guy has got it bad. And you turned him into a wuss – he’s worried now all the time.” I roll my eyes. “But I can’t blame him – these last few weeks are not something any of us want to repeat … like ever.”
I pull my mouth into a thin line. This incident changed all our lives. It broke us even more … more baggage to load on those 747s.