A R I A

To say I am completely and utterly shocked would be the understatement of my life. And I think the same applies to both Uncle Paul and Miles.

But even though it's kind of messed up, seeing Lydia laying almost lifeless on the floor gives me a sense of relief. Is it really all that messed up, though? She was going to kill all of us.

"M-Mom?" Miles rasps out and tries to inch towards her, but then soon realizes what a stupid idea that was and hisses.

Kristen's eyes land upon the blood soaked scarf wrapped around his thigh and her shaking hands fly over her mouth. I move back and she scrambles to the floor, taking his face into her hands as she presses a kiss against his forehead.

"Oh god, my baby. What has she done to you?" she sobs, wrapping her arms around Miles in a tight embrace.

"I'm okay, Mom," he winces, biting down on his lip to refrain from crying outloud.

Grunts and groans from Uncle Paul tears my attention away from them. I rush over to him clumsily and pull at the rope. It finally falls off but he collapses onto the floor, panting heavily.

"Uncle Paul? Are you okay?"

He nods and lets himself catch his breath before talking. My brows knit together in worry. Was he more injured than he looked?

"What . . . What the hell just h-happened?" He croaks, eyes glued to his unconscious wife.

I shake my head, holding back tears when I felt something drip onto my skin. Uncle Paul is crying. It's the silent type, the most painful kind. My heart sinks as I look at his crumpled face. He'd always been the strong one for me when it was his own brother that was killed. Now it was my turn to be strong for him.

I wrap my arms around his fragile body, and just like that he weakens under my embrace. I've never seen Paul like this before, and the fact that it was Lydia — Lydia — who did this to him only added fuel to the fire burning within me.

She broke all of us.

I only hold onto my uncle tighter, shutting my eyes so that the tears wouldn't escape. I have nothing to say. Words would never be enough to mend what has been broken. So the two of us cling onto each other while Kristen and Miles talk in hushed tones until Uncle Paul pulls away and gives me a sad smile.

"The cops are on their way," Kris says, helping her son up, "But they might take a while. There was a mass shooting just a while ago in the city, and you know how small this town is. With Michael locked up behind bars, they must think everyone here is safe now. That's also why I'm assuming Lydia took advantage of the distraction."

My fingers curl into fists. Lydia might be a psychopath, but she is also damn smart.

"Did you call an ambulance?"

Kristen gives me a duh look. "I wouldn't even be here if I hadn't heard the gunshot. Of course I called an ambulance, kid."

Right.

"Come on, we have to get moving before Lydia wakes up." She struggles to help Miles stand. My heart aches a little more at the sight of him limping, but even more so at his glassy eyes.

Oh, no. Gabriel.

"M-Mom," he croaks, biting his lip as he lets out a hiss from the pain, "Wait, Mom. Where is h-he?"

Kris doesn't say anything for a moment. She looks like she's trying to pull herself together for her son. I don't think that was the reaction anyone was hoping for.

"Where's who?" She finally spits out, breaking eye contact with Miles. She's playing dumb. She knows exactly who he's talking about.

Something's happened.

Something's happened. My stomach churns. Oh, god. What if he's dead? He was part of Lydia's plan, wasn't he? But, if Gabe was in the car with her, then maybe he's still alive.

"Where's dad?" He asks softly, like he's afraid of the question that should be a normal one. Except, in our lives, nothing is normal.

"Miles, we don't have time for this talk right now. We need to get the hell out of here, right n—"

"Where is he?" Miles croaks out, holding onto her shoulders and shaking her slightly, "is he alright? Is he safe? Do y-you know?"

"Please, Miles. Please, can we just talk about this after you've stopped bleeding? Look at you! Your leg is injured! You were shot! You were almost killed, and you think now's the time to ask stupid questions?"

"Mom?" Miles says again, the desperation is clear in his eyes, "Please t-tell me."

Kristen makes brief eye contact with me as if she's begging for me to pitch in, to side with her, but I don't say anything. I can't.

Kris takes his face into her hands again and wipes away a single tear that slipped from his eye.

"He's gone, baby," Kristen presses her lips together, her bright blue eyes glistening in the dark, "He left. I don't . . . I-I don't think we'll see him again."

"What?" Miles backs away a little and his leg folds but he manages to keep his balance. "What d-do you mean he left?"

"His things were gone when I went into our room. Miles, he didn't even leave a note. And then when I heard the g-gunshot and looked through the window, I saw him in a car, waiting right outside." Kristen sputters, shaking her head, "He must be long gone by now."

The look on Miles' face is one that I am all too familiar with. It's the look of a heartbroken child who's just learnt he's lost one of the most important people in his life and is in denial. In shock.

I felt the same only moments ago.

"He left? He knew what was going on in this house and h-he left? I don't get it. I know Dad was a part of Lydia's scheme but I didn't . . . I didn't think he would leave. I'm h-his son, and he knew Lydia would harm us, but he left?"

"I know, I know," Kris frowns, removing her hands and setting her arm back on his waist, "but we can't think of this right now, okay? There's no time. Lydia might—"

A groan from the devil herself interrupts Kristen. I freeze at the sight of her silhouette stirring. She's gaining consciousness again.

"We need to leave," Kris says in a firm yet low voice.

But Miles is frozen in his spot. His eyes are glued to the floor, his mind far away.

My heart aches for him, this broken boy. He's been with me through thick and thin, and all along he's kept it together. But this is the last straw for him. It's the cherry on top of his psychopath brother, his own trauma, and even his worries about his dad's whereabouts these past few weeks.

If Gabe isn't dead yet, I'll make sure he will be.

"Miles, come on," Kris tugs at his hand, but he doesn't budge. She looks to me with those pleading eyes again. "Aria, please. He won't listen to me."

"Uncle Paul," I turn to him, "I'll meet you outside. Go with Kris."

"Are you serious? I'm not leaving you kids in here with . . . with her."

"Isn't there anything in here that we could use to tie her wrists? A scarf? What about a belt?" Kristen pipes up, digging into the closet in search of anything that could be used. When she frowns, the answer is obvious. The only

"No . . . She's too smart. She must've thrown or hid all of them somewhere in case her plan didn't go as she'd hoped. You got lucky with that one for Miles." Paul shakes his head.

"Go, don't worry. If she wakes up I'll just . . . Knock her out with the chair?" I gesture to the wooden chair that Paul had previously been tied to. One of the legs broke in the chaos, leaving the wood sharp and splintered.

My uncle sighs before he relaxes and shoots me a proud smile. He knows we'll be okay. He believes in me, even in insane situation like this.

I won't let him down.

Kris grabs Lydia's pistol off the floor and as she and Uncle Paul flee the closet, I turn to Miles. He doesn't look at me. I take his hands in mine, both pairs stained with the blood from his injury. I take a look at my handiwork and notice the belt I used looks like it's doing its job since the bleeding has seemed to slow.

Thank god. I honestly didn't even know if that would work.

When I feel something wet fall onto the back of my hand I immediately look up and into Miles' glassy eyes. My heart drops at the sight.

"Miles—"

"I just don't understand," He croaks, shaking his head. "Why would he . . . Why would dad . . ."

"Listen to me, Miles. Your dad's scum. Just like Lydia. Except Lydia's a psychopath that is with us right now. She's smart and she'll definitely have a back up plan for when she's awake, and we can't risk losing anymore time. I know you're not that character who turns around and dies because they're dumb. You're not dumb, I think. You realize you've been shot, right? That is our priority. You. Not your dad. We'll sort that out later, I promise. Come with me now."

"What do you mean, "I think"? I'm not dumb, Shortcake." He argues, pouting like a child and completely disregarding everything else I said.

I take his arm and drag him out of the closet, mindful of his injury. "Prove it then, dumbass."

Once we're at the stairs, we both groan.

"So she has enough money to hire a decoy twice, but the bitch couldn't install escalators?" I mutter, helping Miles down the stairs with caution. He hisses at every step, the sound alone makes me want to run back up the stairs with a chainsaw and slice Lydia's body into bite size pieces.

I'm honestly surprised he's not wailing like a baby. With a wound like that, anyone would. You'd think a guy who's afraid of Russian zombie unicorns would be a sobbing mess over the fact that he just got shot in his thigh, but apparently not.

The only thing keeping him going right now is the makeshift tourniquet and probably adrenaline.
Miles grunts in pain as we go down the stairs. I can feel him faltering to one side, and I look down to see more blood leaking down his jeans, through the scarf. Fuck. This boy has been through so much with me. Tears start to trail down Miles' face, and I know it's not just because of the pain from his leg. This is all her fault. She took everything from me, and because of her, Miles is bleeding out, and I have no idea if he'll make it with that flimsy tourniquet.

Uncle Paul and Kristen are there when we get to the bottom of the stairs. Miles starts to falter again, and that's when I know the excruciating pain is starting to kick in. I do my best to keep him standing. That scarf is no where near enough. It'll hold for another five minutes, at most. After that, with the amount of blood he's already lost, he won't have much time.

Where the fuck are the paramedics?

Miles, my Miles.

What if I lose him, too?

What if I lose him?

I'm going to kill her. I'm going to kill her. I'm going to kill her. I'm going to fucking kill her.

All I feel and see is rage. I see myself tearing Lydia's body apart, piece by piece, with my own fingertips. I see myself ripping her heart out, just like Michael did to my father. I'm going to blow her brains out with the same gun she used to kill my parents. The same gun she tried to kill Miles with.

Miles. Miles. Miles. My Miles.

"Kristen, Paul," I gently move to help Miles lean onto the both of them. I finally hear the sound of sirens coming from a distance. "Get him out of here. Don't you dare let him fall asleep."

"Aria! Where the hell are you going?" Kristen shouts. I slip into the kitchen and look through the drawers. I can't see much in the dark, but I catch the glint of a large, sharp knife. I grab a hold of it and head back to the stairs, where Uncle Paul and Kristen are staring at me and the knife in my hand in disbelief.

Uncle Paul reaches out to grab my arm, but he's too weak to stop me. All it takes is one last glimpse at Miles' drowsy eyes for me to rush up the stairs.

I'm going to kill her.

I'm going to kill her.

I'm going to kill her.

"I'm going to kill you," I say under my breath as I make my way back to the room. "I'm going to kill you."

I don't care about anything else that could happen tonight as long as Miles is okay, and Lydia is dead by my hand.

I barge into the room, the closet door open. Everything is dark, but being in alone in here with my psychotic bitch of an aunt isn't scaring me one bit. I hear her groan, and once my eyes are adjusted to the room's darkness, I can see her silhouette start to sit up.

I'm going to kill her.

She hasn't realized that I'm in the room with her yet, and she starts patting around the floor, looking for her gun.

I have to fucking laugh at that.

She jerks up, and starts backing away at the sound of my bitter, empty laughter.

"Someone's scared," I snicker, taking a step towards her. "Poor Auntie Lydia."

"Aria . . ."

"Always in my mother's shadow, huh?" I recall, "For good reason, too. She was everything you weren't. Everything you wanted to be. How fucking sad, you had it so tough, didn't you?"

I can hear her breathing heavily. She's getting mad.

"You just weren't good enough, Aunt Lyd," I tell her, smiling. "You've always been pathetic. No wonder your parents didn't give a fuck about you."

"Shut. Up." She seethes.

"Uncle Paul wasted his time with you. You, out of everyone, were lucky enough to find someone like him. Using him, an innocent man, just like that."  I was only a meter or so away from her. "God. Lydia. Always the disappointment, aren't you?"

I tilt my head, smirking. "Seems like the only thing you did for this family was making two crazy bitches."

"Shut up! Shut up! I hate you! I've always hated you. From the second you were born, I knew I was going to take everything away from you!" She screams, unaware of the blood trickling down her face from her head. "Your parents, your uncle, your home, your life! And that boyfriend of yours? He'll be dead in a few minutes."

Miles. Miles. Miles.

"Miles is going to be perfectly fine," There's no way I'll let her words affect me anymore. "To think that you and Gabriel were in on this together, you must think you're such a mastermind, don't you? Why don't you tell me, where is he, hm? You must know where Gabriel is. You were planning to use his car to get away after you killed us, weren't you? It's rather unfortunate, how he just left you to die her."

She seems taken aback at this, and I notice a slight shimmer in her eyes at the mention of Miles' father. What the fuck? This is what she chooses to cry about?

No way. No way.

"Holy shit, Aunt Lyd," I burst into another laughing fit, this time in utter disbelief. "You were fucking him."

This couldn't get any better.

Her face was not displaying any sign of emotion, and that's all the confirmation I need. I felt sick to my stomach. Paul didn't deserve this.

"You're fucking disgusting," I wanted nothing more than to punch her, but with the knife in my hand, I'd probably do damage to myself as well. "And Dad? You really thought you ever had a chance with him to begin with? You really thought he'd ever love someone as pitiful as you?" I chortle at that thought, shaking my head. She's all the way backed up to the wall now. I move closer.

"But Emery did," I say, tears streaming down my face. "No one ever loved you as much as she did. You killed her anyway."

Aunt Lydia's face is right in front of mine.

"You made one really, really, big mistake." I look her dead in the eyes. "You left her daughter alive."

I put the knife to her throat.

"And I'm going to fucking kill you."

•••

Hey,

It's been a damn while. Basically 4 years now since my last update, and I'm a real asshole for leaving this book on the cliffhanger that I left it on. A lot has changed since my last A/N. I honestly haven't been writing at all. This book deserves an ending though, especially it being my first ever story (with the attention it has gotten).

I'm not too sure how I feel about this chapter. I've literally been writing it on and off for the past 4 years since my last update, and I finally decided to come back and finish it. I'll probably rewrite this chapter, but I really just wanna put it out there now to hopefully get this story moving again. I haven't even proofread it yet smh. This isn't the last chapter. I'll try and update as soon as I can, you guys have been so patient and there are so many new readers too, I couldn't be more grateful. Thank you for sticking around.

I hope you're all doing well!

❤️ Chloe