This World is Outrageous { BOOK 2 }

Chapter 14-- Bay

Chapter 14

Bay

The damage a loved one causes is unbelievable.

It breaks my heart and twists my stomach into knots as I watch Ridge's world crumble around him. I relive the night I snapped my father's neck in this moment. The grief, the pain, the guilt, the horror, the shame. All these emotions plaster themselves across Ridge's face. I share this feeling with him.

I know he feels like he is going insane, much like I have felt and much like I continue to feel. Everything around him will cease to matter just as it did with me. Although he killed his mother per her request, it doesn't make a difference. How do you cope with the fact that you killed your very own mother or father? 

"Ridge," caution floods Casper's voice, "We need to go."

In an instant Ridge replaces his handgun with his pulsar gun. He swings around and aims it at Casper's chest. This reaction seems all too familiar. It reminds me of when I aimed my gun at Casper after I had killed Kole—after I had killed my father. For that split second I lost control and drew my gun on Casper out of pure grief. But when I realized that I pulled my weapon on Casper, my grief turned to shame. I can only hope the same will happen with Ridge before he decides to discharge his weapon.

"Does none of this matter to you?" Ridge screams in rage.

"Ridge. Put the gun down," I say with an even tone.

"Now why would I do that?" He hisses.

"Because you're better than this. Don't let the Warrior that is inside of you come out so easily. You have to put up a fight. It is what your mother would have wanted. She asked you to kill her; she requested it. All you did was obey her final wish. And her final wish was simply to protect you, her son.

"It is because of the Jotunn that she is dead, not because of you, Ridge. It is because the Warriors that you are on the brink of death as it is," I slowly take a step forwards, "You can't stoop to the level of the Warriors, Ferryweather. You have to be better than them."

The gun lowers in a slow, careful movement as wet, brown eyes look over at me. My heart melts in sympathy for the twenty-year-old. If anyone knows what it's like to kill a parent—it's me. I regret every single moment since then. My dad was assumed dead for months. I never got to say goodbye because he disappeared with no trace of him to be found.

Then I found him. I found him only to see that he couldn't be saved.

I was too late to save him.

In that situation it was kill or be killed. I was forced between the decision of dying to save him or to kill him. There was no guarantee that I could even save him.

I didn't want to die and I didn't want to kill him, but I wasn't left a choice. I prayed in that moment that it was all a dream and I'd wake up within seconds. That when I woke up I'd be back in New York, in my bed, with Emma. But I knew it wasn't a dream, no matter how much I wanted it to be.

I wanted Dad to open his eyes and see that I was and always will be his daughter. That he would go to the end of the earth to try his best to make me smile again, all because he was my father and he loved me. To open his eyes and see that he was and always will be my father—and that once his eyes opened he'd gladly take up the position as my father once more.

Just one more time

Instead he left me between a rock and a hard place and it hurt me more than I could have ever fathomed. How I wish I could have saved him or have found some other alternative. But I didn't; I couldn't. There is no changing what happened. As much as I hate to admit it, it's in the past. And he didn't give me any other choice.