I stiffen my spine, not wanting to act like a complete baby, but it’s not every day that a crazed madman invades my home and sticks a gun in my face.
For the next hour, he paces, taking frequent breaks to snort lines of cocaine from the very table I play cards with my dad and grandparents at. He rants about his brother and some woman named Penny.
I learn his name is Roger, a man in love with the woman his brother killed. He wants his brother brought to him so he can no doubt seek justice, but I take little comfort in knowing he’s wanting revenge on someone other than those of us in the house.
I don’t know if he would be considered a domestic terrorist, but I know enough about my dad’s line of work to know he’ll never get what he wants. The local police will not pull his brother from jail only to be brought here and murdered.
I begin to tremble uncontrollably, feeling completely helpless when Roger begins to scream at Sophia as if she’s his lost love, Penny, rather than a different woman altogether.
He inches closer to Sophia, ranting about abusive men and women who like to be hurt, all the while waving that damn gun around like it’s a toy that doesn’t have the ability to end a life.
“You didn’t have to die,” he whispers, the very first wave of calmness coming over him since we arrived. “We would’ve been so happy together.”
Even in this moment, terrified and afraid for my own life, there’s a part of me that can sympathize with this man. I know what it’s like to love someone I’m never destined to have.
“Don’t worry,” Roger says, his voice breaking with his own pain. “When the night is over, we’ll finally be together.”
Cold dread races up my spine. The man is with it enough to know that Penny is dead, and he’s making it very clear that his own death is imminent. Nothing good comes from a man who has lost all hope.
Roger begins pacing once again, but I know it’s too soon to take a relaxing breath. He’s even more agitated after ranting into the phone with the negotiators.
Roger stops in his tracks, as if he’s having an epiphany. “They aren’t going to bring Dennis here.”
Sophia grumbles behind her gag, and I can see she’s trying to tell him that they will, but Roger seems to be wrapping his head around the situation.
He leans closer to Sophia, and it’s as if time stops.
I watch the hope drain from her eyes a second before they flutter closed.
I see the man in the hallway before Roger does, and in half a breath, Roger is crumpled on Sophia’s lap, the echo of the shot drowned out by Sophia screaming into her gag.
With my dad’s line of work and being best friends with a guy whose own father works for Cerberus, I knew the chances of me making it through life without seeing someone die was slim, but as I stare down at Roger, the life already gone from his eyes, I don’t know how to feel.
At the end of the day, a man’s life has just ended right in front of me. There should be some level of sadness or compassion that comes with that. Maybe I should feel relief or even a sense of justice being served, but I just feel numb to all of it.
Maybe I’m going into shock. Maybe I pictured so many tragic outcomes that finally being safe isn’t registering.
“Hey,” Landon says, his shoulder bumping against mine. “You okay?”
I shake my head, aware enough of what’s happening to know that physically I’m fine, but my head will be a mess for a long time going forward.
The man in the hallway stands to the side as a group of men in tactical gear invade the living room.
One pushes Roger off Sophia’s lap, urging her to open her eyes.
Dominic, her father, pushes his balaclava off his face, and only then does she settle.
“Look at me,” Landon urges, and I do, although reluctant to pull my eyes from the pool of blood growing wider around Roger’s head. “We’re safe.”
I nod just as strong arms pull me up from the floor.
“Rick.” Dad’s voice in my ear is the last straw. With my arms still tied behind my back, I bury my face in his chest and sob like a child.
Cerberus, as well as the members of the Farmington Police Department, swarm around us, and I know there’s not a man or woman in this room that will think poorly of me for losing my shit. I’m shaking, the tremble settling in my bones and making it nearly impossible to stand straight, but I don’t have to worry about any of it because my dad’s arms are strong enough for the both of us right now, despite the shuddering breaths he keeps taking.