Chapter 84: Betrayal

< Shirley >
I blinked furiously, pushing back the tears that threatened to fall from my eyes, and rushed to my mother's side. The blood that had pooled beneath her body, made my stomach twist into knots; I had a strong urge to throw up.
"Mom?" I called out, my voice cracking. I shook her lifeless body as if there was still some hope, only hoping.
"She is dead," Dad let out, holding back a sob at the back of his throat.
My heart shattered into a billion shards, each more jagged and horrifically painful than the next, and I fell into an all-consuming cavernous misery. Everything lost its meaning. I felt so lost.
It was my mother, the one that gave birth to me, who took care of me for twenty-four years. The warm lap, where I rested my head after an exhausting day, was cold now. The person I caved into the most was dead.
And the one responsible for it was me. Yes, it was me. It was my mistake to bring that murderer here.
My bloodshot eyes darted towards the only person with a gun in his hand. Is that why he brought his gun with himself? To kill my family?
I staggered on my feet as I stood up and faced him. His grey eyes held no remorse, only a sharp look visible in them. I realized something, looking at his emotionless face, that I had been giving my love without reserve, not knowing that the opposite person didn't actually reciprocate my feelings at all. I was delusional to ever get the feeling that he loved me. What a joke.
It was actually ridiculous how I felt at that moment. I wondered whether my love for him was true. Because all I felt for him, right then, was pure hatred.
Dylan said he loved me and I took him at his word. He said he wanted to meet my family and I let him, not understanding his intentions behind it.
"Why did you do it?" I asked, trying to keep my voice as strong and firm as possible.
"I didn't do it," Dylan replied nonchalantly.
A ray of hope surged through me, only to be crushed by the next words of my dad, "He is lying. He killed Hazel right in front of my eyes!"
"You are the one who—"
I cut in through Dylan's lies and said, "Enough." I didn't give him a chance to explain because my mind wasn't functioning rationally. I didn't want to think at that moment. Everything was just too much. All I wanted was to cry my lungs out.
The files, that I still clutched close to my chest, must be the reason he did it. My dad must have gotten some information on his mafia works. That's probably why Dylan pretended to be in love with me so that he could extract these documents. Or probably he intended to kill my family from the beginning?
I couldn't believe it was all an act. Was it though? It was hard to swallow that, but I clenched my jaw and shoved the files in his hands, and said, "Leave before I call the cops."
Who was I kidding? The cops couldn't do anything to Dylan. He had them under his control. Even so, I felt the need to say it because I wanted to let him know that we were over.
"Shirley, I didn't do anything wrong," Dylan said.
"Of course, you didn't," I snarled.
"I didn't kill your mom. Trust me."
"Then, who did? You're the only one who has a gun with him!" I shouted.
"He is the one who killed your mom," Dylan protested, pointing his finger at my dad.
I let out a bitter laugh. "If you are going to lie, at least try to make it believable," my voice got louder, "Why would my dad kill his own wife? Answer me!"
"Dammit, how should I know that?" he snapped.
"You said you would never lie to me," I uttered.
"I am not lying right now," he said, his voice cracking, which made me feel like someone was cutting my heart into paper pieces with a scissor.
"You know what? Get out," I stated in a cold voice. Then tears were starting to blur my vision, so I averted my eyes elsewhere, anywhere but him. I didn't want to look at him and feel weak once again. I didn't want to be vulnerable in front of him anymore. "I don't want to hear your reasonings anymore, neither do I want to see your face ever again."
"I am telling you, I didn't kill your mom. Shirley, trust me," his voice was begging as if he were actually telling the truth. But it was impossible. My dad wouldn't kill my mom. Why would he? Dad loved Mom so dearly.
"It was a mistake to trust you in the first place. I'm not going to repeat that." I turned around, letting the tears fall from my eyes.
There was a brief silence, only filled with my dad's cries and the thunder roaring outside.
"Fine then," those were the last words I heard from his mouth before Dylan left.
My knees finally gave up as I fell to the floor, letting out the wrenching pain in my heart. The feeling of loss and betrayal overwhelmed my senses; I didn't know for how long I sat there crying until I heard the footsteps of my brother.
Hearing a strangled gasp, I raised my head to look at Adrian's horrified face. He rushed over to Mom's dead body. He shook her body in failed attempts, only to be disappointed.
"Who did it?" he asked, sounding completely enraged as he was trying his best to hold back the tears.
I couldn't answer him. I felt ashamed of myself for everything.
Dad replied in my place, "Dylan Lewiston."
Adrian's face twisted in anger as his hand traveled to the gun in the back of his pocket. He left without saying another word.
As I sat there, completely devastated, I couldn't help but curse my fate and myself.
My perfect family was gone. The foundation of it was dead. It was all my fault. If only I hadn't fallen for Dylan's fake charms, maybe my family would still be alright. If only I didn't love Dylan Lewiston...