Chapter Twenty-Seven - A Taste of Revenge

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Chapter Twenty-Seven - A Taste of Revenge

October 27th 1997

The warm breeze whipped softly through Ryder's mid-cheek length hair, blowing his hair into his eyes. Leaves chaotically blew about, sweeping around him on the pavement, flying through the air and twisting around like a miniature tornado. He snapped a photo smiling to himself. That would make a nice addition to his collection. He tilted his head up looking at an array of colors that painted the sky, looking for any shapes he could take a shot of.

The National Gallery was sight to behold as the building illuminated a deep blue. Benjamin playfully nudged Ryder's shoulder, smiling, "Ready to go? Let's go get a cold treat, eh?"

Ryder walked away from the Gallery with his camera in hand, his Father, Benjamin, was drinking in the buildings the city of London had to offer. He always seemed to get so lost, drawn into the architecture of the buildings. He would point out flaws sometimes but Ryder didn't see the flaws as something bad, he would snap a photo of the flaw for his collection. Flaws could be deeply beautiful, artful. He may have been ten-years-old, but he saw things in buildings and people that others did not. He always considered himself different than others. He had a different perspective.

His Father was taking him out for ice cream as an early celebration for his eleventh birthday the next day. He was happy to be out with his Father for the day, but as they went into the ice cream parlor, he frowned knowing the day was coming to an end, and that meant going back home where his Mother waited for their return. He knew she had another lover there whilst he and his Father spent the day out together. He was beginning to despise her. Here of late, he avoided her and only spoke to her when he needed to. She was a selfish bitch and one day; one day she would get hers and it would be by his hands. His emotions began to swirl, anger, a black seed of hate began to bloom in his chest. It wrapped around his heart, coiling ever-so tightly before completely blanketing it.

His Father stared at him curiously, knowing something was bothering him. Benjamin took a bite of his hot-fudge sundae and then stuck his spoon back into the white, soft ice cream and tilted his head softly to the right and spoke in a soft Fatherly tone, "Tell me what's on your mind, son."

Ryder took a lick of his chocolate ice cream cone and sighed, not knowing whether he should tell his Father about his Mother's indiscretions or not. He didn't want his Father to hurt. He didn't need the stress added onto him. His heart was already weak from the last heart attack he had six months back. Finding out his wife was unfaithful would kill him. He loved her wholly and to destroy that — the bond between his parents would be devastating to them all. Even loving her husband was a task for her — it wasn't fake for him. It would shatter his Dad. He just couldn't do it. He couldn't break them up.

"I'm just tired," He forced a smile and finished off his cone.

He knew his Dad could tell he wasn't being truthful, but as most Father's do, he didn't push the issue. Instead, he forced a smile and replied, "Let's go home, son." When Ryder arrived, they hadn't even made it to the door before he had a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. It curled, coiling around in his gut, constricting his ability to feel his limbs. As he and his Father opened the door, they took their jackets off and Benjamin hung his keys on the golden curled hook on the wall and then headed for the kitchen in search of his wife. Ryder knew he wouldn't find her in there. He wouldn't find her anywhere but, in her room, with her lover. When Benjamin didn't find her there, he headed for the bedroom. Ryder hid behind the wall to the entrance of the hallway that led to this parent's room, just barely peeking his head around the corner.

She was in there with someone. His gut was twisting, churning, knotting. He wanted to stop his Father from walking in on her. Then again, he wanted her to get caught. But getting caught could lead to another heart attack for his Father, and this time he might not survive it. He had a choice and time was ticking down with each step Benjamin took, getting closer to the bedroom by the second. He chewed on his lip, his brows pinched together, conflicted on what to do; now more than ever. He took a deep shaky breath and yelled loud enough so his Mother would hear him. He wasn't doing this for her. He was doing it for his Father.

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