Baby Roy Part 2

“Do you think I want to die?” His voice is soft as he looks at me. “You’re mistaken, Baby. I want to live. I want to find her and tell that woman what she did to me. I need to ask for her forgiveness…”
My fingers fall, seeing him so clearly, as if it's the first time I’m truly seeing his eyes. It's not a desire for death that shines in Jonathan’s blue irises, but a desire for life. I step away from the car, taking a step back, praying that I’m not mistaken in what I read on his face. Jonathan skids over the grass, tearing off in the car. I rush back into the mansion and go after Aunt Charlotte, who is anxious and looking at me in fear.
“It will be alright, Aunt.” I drape my arm over her shoulders, helping her to her room.
She climbs the stairs in silence, her breath weary. She lets her gaze wander towards Ginger’s open door, but I don’t let her go there and lead her straight to her own room.
“Are you sure he’ll be okay, Baby?” I smile to contain her distress. I nod, helping her settle into bed.
“Yes. And you were right, old gossip.” I raise her hand in mine, giving it a gentle pat. “I should have looked after Ginger that night…” I sigh wearily, shrugging my shoulders. “If I had, I would have seen the loving look she gave him. And that’s what holds Roy, this new feeling he’s never experienced and is learning to cope with.”
Aunt Charlotte closes her eyes, shaking her head slowly, with tenderness.
“I was there when Reimond went to pick her up from the asylum during her last stay. Sonja blinded him, manipulating his feelings as if they were fine strings she wove any way she wanted.” Her eyes open, bringing a distant melancholy. “There was never that look between them. Never, Baby. Sonja never looked at your father like Jonathan looks at Miss Fox. Your mother never felt guilty for the unhappy way she left my brother.”
I remain silent, letting her close her eyes again. Aunt Charlotte blames herself for her entire life, for not being able to keep Sonja away from Dad, for not seeing what was happening with Roy.
“It will be alright, Aunt,” I whisper, looking out the window. I hope the past won’t repeat itself.
“I should never have kept my brother’s old belongings in that chalet. I should have destroyed everything, any damned memory of Sonja and what she did to my nephew and my brother.”
I spend half an hour with her in her room before leaving her calm and more settled in bed. My steps lead me to Gim’s room before I go after Jon in the library. It’s a mess. Every corner he could have destroyed and broken, he did, to release his rage. I hug my body, leaning against the doorframe. I have no idea how this story will end, or if it’s right for him to let Ginger follow her path, but somehow, the only thing I can be sure of is that Ginger changed Jonathan forever, breaking the damned monstrous link that tied Sonja to him. I rub my face in sadness, ready to leave her room, but my steps stop when I hear noises coming from Jon’s room. I look at the door, wondering if he might have returned to his room, and walk to see him. The door is ajar, so I push it open slowly. My eyes stop on the bed, where I see Lorane gripping the mattress, her breathing rapid as she bites the pillow. I can't believe what I’m seeing. Jon, sweaty, penetrating her slowly, his face contorted in agony. My brain shuts down; it’s like I’m watching that old tape again, as Jonathan’s crying face replays in my mind. I feel my veins burning. My body, driven by rage, crosses the room in seconds, pulling him away from her. The first slap of my open hand hits Lorane’s cheek as she screams in fright, turning towards me.
“You bitch! Bitch! How could you?!” My body falls on top of her, slapping her with all my strength. “IT’S MY SON! MY SON, YOU BITCH!”
My rage moves beyond me. I see Sonja in front of me, I see Lorane with my son, all in one face, all the evil and filth. I tear the pain from my body with every second I hit her red face. Her fingers clutch at my hair, but I don’t feel the pain, I’m too numb in my rage. I drag her off the bed, throwing her to the floor, screaming with hatred.
“James, stop!” My arm freezes in mid-air when I hear that name from a cold voice.
Jon is serious, breathing slowly. He looks at Lorane on the floor and then turns his attention to me.
“Jon...” The surprise catches me, seeing the truth on his face. He knows who I am. “Jon...” My eyes are already blurred between the tears.
I stretch my arm to touch him, but I pull it back when I see him take a step back, not wanting me to touch him.
“I don’t know what she told you, but please, let me explain…”
“What? That you’re a freak, like the old lady calls you? That you have a dick between your legs?” I feel my body mortified as he looks with disgust at my waist. “I already knew, Daddy, and I admit it disgusts me a little.”
“Jon, I’m so sorry...” I cover my face, curling my body, not wanting him to feel disgusted by me. “I wasn’t happy, Jon, I wasn’t. I... Please, let me explain.”
“You were right to think I would be ashamed of you. Even my mother’s whore wasn’t as disgusting as you are, Baby.” My knees buckle to the floor, feeling like the worst of crawling worms.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Jon.” I’ve never regretted who I was, but at this moment, for the first time, I wish I hadn’t let Baby be born.
“Don’t feel sorry, James, you’re nothing. You’ll never be anyone. You’re not a man, you’re not a woman, you’re just insignificant.” I lift my face to him, seeing so much coldness in his gaze. “You’re just discarded trash, someone who will never be truly loved.”
Lorane hands him a piece of wood, which Jon grips tightly in his fingers, looking at her.
“Jon...” I can’t get up, I just stay there, being swallowed by the pain I caused him. I close my eyes, letting the tears fall down my face. My face collapses on the floor, leading my mind to the abyss.
I remain silent, watching two men remove Lorane’s body, wrapped in a black bag. I rub my face in anguish, turning to the entrance of the mansion. Jon is being transported on a stretcher, his hand bandaged from a bullet wound. Dexter shot him to make him drop the revolver he had fired at Ginger. I look at Jon and can’t associate him with that monster from Dexter’s footage. Everything he said, the cold way he deceived everyone, his dead eyes like Sonja’s...
I walk slowly and approach the ambulance as the paramedics prepare him to get into the vehicle. His battered face lifts to me, looking at me with disdain, pressing his lips together.
“Are you waiting for an apology, James?” Jon lets the weight of his body fall on the stretcher, I see the handcuffs on his other arm, attached to the metal bar of the stretcher.
“No, Jon,” I whisper sadly, looking at the fate my son will have. I had kept away from him so he wouldn’t suffer from my family’s evil, but even from afar, Jon was infected. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, Jon, for failing you.”
“I could almost hug you.” He lifts his arm, letting the handcuff stretch. “But I can’t, because I’m handcuffed to this damn stretcher. Actually, I don’t think I’d let you touch me even if I were free.”
“You almost killed your uncle, Jon. Ginger is gravely injured, on her way to the hospital... How could you try to kill your uncle?”
“Uncle Roy is nothing like I thought. He’s not like me, he’s weak, just like Ginger. He fooled me. Uncle Jonathan deserved to die.” The paramedics lift Jon with the stretcher into the ambulance, and his cold eyes are still fixed on the tears streaming down my face. His gaze is empty, cold, without a hint of remorse. “See you later, Daddy.”
I stand there, watching the ambulance door close as it drives away, followed by two police cars. My body sways slowly. I look down at the ground and sob through my painful tears.

“Come on, you need to sit down for a bit.” Dexter’s low voice is beside me. He gently holds my arm, guiding me to the stairs. I hunch over, sitting on the steps and hiding my face so he can stay away from my tears. “You know it wasn’t your fault, right?”

I don’t turn around or want to hear it. It is my fault! I will forever carry the curse of what happened inside this mansion in my heart. Jon killed his grandmother, Bob shows no signs of improvement, and Gim... God! What he did to her was cold-blooded! And he even ordered Lira to hurt Aunt Charlotte! I’m as guilty as my son. I don’t know how I’m being sheltered, but I don’t have the strength to pull away from Dexter’s chest when he pulls me in, letting me find some solace in his arms while I cry quietly. I just stay there, letting my sadness and guilt eat away at me, listening to the soft sound of his voice whispering comforting words in my ears. Nothing will be the same again, nothing will be the same in my life or Jon’s. And Jonathan has fallen deep, with nothing to hold him up in his fall, between the pain and fear of losing the only person who made him feel alive.