Chapter 37
My trials were to be held in America.
Following the news of my capture was a media sensation – somehow, the news of Nathan's abduction, along with the rest of my history, has resulted in a phenomenon that surpassed even that of the Alfred kidnappings. Moving from a Brazilian prison to a private US-owned jet received all the media coverage in the world. I used a towel to hide my face, though I knew it would make little difference.
The whole world knew who I was.
Having kept it a secret for so long, the freedom to say it out loud was still strange to me. How often could one say that they had killed a dozen people and smuggled one out of the country? But now there was no use in hiding. My life was an open book to the world, and it both angered and thrilled me.
It thrilled me because my successes were finally being known. And whether for good or bad, I would go down in history as one of the most ruthless teen killers the world would ever see. I would be studied in textbooks, talked about for decades, and be used as comparison against criminals that would come and go.
Al Capone, John Dillinger, Patty Hearst. I would be amongst legends.
For months all I could do was simply await my trial patiently, knowing that a life sentence was my only option. All the lawyers in the world wouldn't be able to slide this one under the rug.
Yet I felt nothing. The rage and hysteria that followed Eli's betrayal had diminished within me, and somehow I felt calmer than ever. My master plan had failed. I had been caught by the police, and was now awaiting maximum-security prison. The life that I had dreamt of before – a life with Nathan, living in a little place with an Eiffel Tower view with chocolate croissants laid out on the table – was only but a dream.
This was the life of a notorious killer.
Did I regret the things I did? Absolutely not. Every single one of my victims deserved what had come to them, from the bunny right to Georgia May. I had accomplished what I set out to do – to set Alistair ablaze, and paint my name on every road and streetlight. Now I had done just that.
Even still, I felt nothing.
And as I travelled back to America with a security force that could rival the President's, moving from prison to prison, eating tasteless food and sleeping in small, hard mattresses, I knew that it wouldn't last for long. I would fight the system, but if there was one thing Eli had taught me, it was the value of patience. How else would he have gotten away with what he did?
I needed to be patient. I needed a good poker face. And most of all, I needed my father.
***
My only taste of the outside world would come via a small period of time where I would be allowed visitors, just before my trial would commence.
I waited amongst the grimy visitor's booth, my face merely visible through the slits of the metal bars. Two heavily armed guards stood behind me, watching and waiting as they always did. Now all I had to do was sit and pass the time.
My first visitor was the last person I expected to see.
Jessabel Griffin was the picture of serenity as she took the seat opposite me, her blue eyes watchful and patient. I felt a jolt of hatred at the sight of her, disgusted by the fact that she was alive. Disgusted by the way she had uncovered my hidden life, piece by piece. And the worst part was that there was no Eli to blame. Jess's death had been my responsibility, and I had failed.
I was torn, torn between wanting to kill her a second time and wanting to ask how Nathan was recovering.
Finally, after a long moment of silence, she began to speak. "Nathan's under intensive care. The doctors say he's going to make it, but the cuts you had caused were deep. Very deep."
I gave her a searing look. Would dare she come here and rub that into my face? Aurora must have kept Nathan inside her loft, unconscious and bleeding and ready for taking, before she escaped. My loathing increased. "Nathan and I are meant to be together."
She blinked, not at all fazed by me. "I want answers, Renee. I want to know why you killed all of those people. Why you feel the need to slaughter everyone in your path."
"Is that what you're really here for? To patronize me?" I leaned forward, smirking. "I thought you'd want to swap notes on exactly how good Nathan is in bed. He's mind blowing, you know. Maybe that's why you've kept him around for as long as you have."
That struck a nerve. I watched as Jessabel clenched her jaw, before smoothing out her features once more. Her next question was quiet, so quiet that I almost missed it. "Why Nathan, Rhea? Why did you want him, of all people? I've read Genesis – every single page of it. And yet you never really mentioned why it was him you picked. Why Nathan, when you could have had any other boy in the world?"
There was nothing left to hide, nothing left that hadn't already been exposed. My life, and everything about it, had been exposed to the entire world.
I gave her the truth. The bold, harsh truth. "Because he was yours." And I wanted to be you. So badly that it hurt.
Jessabel left shortly after that, and I was back to waiting. Always, always waiting. Now that they had caged me in this place, there was never anything else to do but wait. For good news, for bad news, for dinner, and for the final verdict.
I would be having none of it. This wasn't part of my plan.
Even through the metal bars, I could sense his presence. I relished the sound of his footsteps as he was steered to my booth, my hands tightening into fists as he made his way forward.
"Daddy," I breathed.
My heart rate increased as I studied the face of my Daddy – the face I had missed for too long. His opinion meant more to me than anything else in the world. What did he think of me now, now that I'm no longer the sheltered girl he thought I was? Did he still love me?
Of course he did. Daddy loved me unconditionally.
Daddy had to love me unconditionally.
The first thing I noticed was his beard. The Daddy I had left behind routinely shaved, and never had a prickle of hair on his cheek. His lovely green eyes were bloodshot, and currently unreadable. Desperation and anxiety crept over me once more.
"Daddy," I tried again, moistening my cracked lips. "Daddy, say something. Please."
Say anything. Anything at all that will make me feel better.
All he did was stare. Soon I became alarmed, to the point where I was gripping the bars to get as close to him as possible. If I could just hug him once more, to have him say that he loved me...
"What I want to know, Renee," he spoke out of the blue, startling me. Usually he was so predictable. Now I didn't now what to think. "Is if you really are the monster everybody believes you to be."
My stomach dropped, and shattered all over the floor. No.
"Daddy-"
"Stop." Never had a word been spoken so firmly. "I want to know the truth. Are all of those things true? When we moved from Clareview to Alistair, in my attempt to shield you from harm, had you been the one causing those horrible deaths? Are you, or are you not, the lovely daughter I thought I had raised?"
I flinched away as if he had struck me, my eyes stinging with tears. No, no, no, no. I couldn't lose Daddy. I just couldn't. "I'm still her!" I hissed. "I'm your baby girl. I'm your Poppy. Daddy, I love yo-"
He stood up before I could finish, silencing my words with his actions alone. "I want none of that from you. For all I know, every word out of your mouth is a lie."
"It's not!"
Now he was losing his composure – Daddy began to shake, his eyes gleaming with an intensity that I didn't know he possessed. "I have defended you with every breath in my body. I have believed every lie, every act, every little thing you have thrown at me because you are my daughter. When you disappeared, I was the only one on your side. I loved you, and wanted to protect you, when all this time I was being made a mockery of."
"No-"
"STOP! I'M TALKING! YOU HAVE TALKED ENOUGH!" Daddy's shout was so loud that it echoed in my ears. Hot, messy tears began to flow out of my eyes. No, this wasn't happening. Daddy was still my Daddy. Daddy still loved me.
To lose him would be to lose my grip on humanity.
Finally he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes to the sight of my tears. For all the things I had done, never had I felt as wretched as I did in that moment. Never had I fully realised who I was and what I had done. I was a girl who no longer had a father. I was a girl who had nothing at all.
"This is what's going to happen tomorrow," he spoke bluntly and without stopping. "I've hired a lawyer to do his best against your cause. You won't win. I can guarantee that. I will meet you on the steps of the courthouse, but from then on you will never have contact with me again. Is that understood? I will do this for you once, just this once, in memory of the girl that had died along with your humanity. And from that moment on, I will no longer have a daughter."
***
I was ready.
The memory of me would live on. I would be remembered by all, revered by some, but never will I be forgotten. Becca and Yuri and Sal will take my memory to their graves, and Eli to his. They wouldn't forget who I was. They wouldn't forget what I had done.
It was amazing, how easily one could accept their death. Once I thought myself invincible, feeling on top of the world and at my absolute prime. There were days when I felt like the only human being alive, or at least the only human being that ever mattered.
Those days were gone.
But I was prepared for what I had to do next, prepared for whatever lay ahead. And as I was lead to the steps of the courthouse, six guards in tow, I looked around and saw a gathered crowd. Protesters, Samaritans, men, women – more heads than I could count were here to watch my trial. They were here to watch me be put to justice.
If only they knew they were getting so much more.
Just as that first day in Alistair, I felt the need to be memorable. To stand out amongst the rest, and to become the axel in which everyone revolved around. The angry shouts and unison chants fell on deaf ears as each step lead me closer to Daddy. As each step led me closer to my final spectacle.
This was to be my finale.
Step by agonizing step, I walked towards him. Daddy always looked so proffesional in a suit – it was no different now as his eyes followed me passively, wanting to get this over and done with. Had he really meant what he said? A part of me still didn't believe it. How could he, when he had raised me all on his own? Fed me, and clothed me, and spoiled me?
No. Daddies couldn't hate their daughters.
But I had made up my mind. As I neared closer and closer to my grand finale, flanked by two officers of the law and handcuffed tightly, adrenaline spiked through me once more. I became hypersensitive to everything – the angry shouts of the mob, the protest signs, the light and they way it caught in Daddy's hair. Daddy, we won't ever be apart again.
Finally, finally, I had reached him.
Did he notice how earnestly I studied his face, how eager I seemed to be for something that was going to decide the rest of my life? He must have found it odd, surely. Suddenly I was transported back to the naïve girl, who felt as if she were on the top of the world, hugging her father and reading the laptop screen over his shoulder. Back then I could manipulated him into doing anything. Now I wasn't sure.
I had to do this with or without his consent. It would be better for both of us in the long run.
The policeman on my left had let his guard down. Only a little bit, but it was enough for me to notice. The grip on my arm was loose, and he seemed to be distracted by all the noise. Perfect. Daddy didn't say a word as he fell into step with me, the distance between us almost too much to bear.
He and I, we were going to a different place. A better place.
We were moving to another Alistair.
"Daddy? I whispered under my breath as the protests intensified, picking up in speed and volume. They could feel it, too. They could feel what was about to happen.
He glanced at me from the corner of his eye, but otherwise remained silent.
Slowly, I leaned forwards so that the tips of my fingers brushed against the policeman's arm. I had been saving up all my energy for this. For my final moment.
My dramatic exit.
I moved too fast for him to comprehend, grabbing the gun out of its socket and looping my handcuffs around Daddy's neck before they could stop me. Pathetic, I thought to myself as I nudged the gun towards Daddy's temple. All of them were pathetic.
"EVERYBODY GET AWAY! NOW! GO!" My scream was deafening. The crowd came to an absolute halt, their shouts dying within their throats, the shock of this turn of event so severe that they remained frozen as one. The police were caught between flanking me and staying back, lest the man was hurt.
Lest Daddy was hurt.
But their hesitation would only buy me a little time. An army of guard was sure to be following as I stood, and I let myself savour the chaos, savour the tension that was so close to tetering over the edge.
My name is Rhea Griffin.
"I love you, Daddy," I whispered into his ear, before pulling the trigger. Screams followed as the gun shot echoed in the air. His body sagged against me, his blood ran down my face, and I had never felt more alive.
And I have come to die just as I have lived.
The muzzle was pressed against my own temple, and with one last cry I released the trigger, closing my eyes and letting go of the world.
Fearlessly.
***
Author's Note: I have truly enjoyed my time with you. Thank you for deciding to read this story - and most importantly, thank you for following it right to the very end. Renee's journey is most peculiar, and it's one I've never written before. Hopefully you've loved it as much as I do. Hopefully this has given you a different insight to life.
Red Leather is officially a contender in the Watty Awards! Head over to the Watty Awards right now and vote for Red Leather under the Thriller section. You know how Renee hates losing. ;)
Hopefully you were satisfied.
Thank you for reading.
Lily x.