His Childhood Sweetheart Returned, So I Chose Vengeance

My mother stared at me with unyielding pride, not a trace of surrender in her eyes. "Sweetheart, remember what Mommy told you."

I squeezed my eyes shut, the weight of grief crushing my chest as her words came flooding back. They had prepared for this. Somehow, they had always known a day like this might come.

She had told me once: if anything ever happened to both her and Dad, save him.

Not because she was blinded by love, but because she understood how much his work protecting the community mattered.

I opened my eyes again and slowly raised my hand, pointing at the woman who had given me life, who had loved me with everything she had.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. This is my fault. I never should have dragged them out shopping.

But the gun still came to rest against my father's forehead.

My scream in that moment was the most useless sound in the world.

That was when I learned just how naive I'd been. They had never intended to let either of my parents go. The "choose one" game was nothing but an appetizer to them.

What they really wanted was to violate me in front of my mother.

That was when Paul arrived with the police.

"Boss, the cops are here."

The leader swore. I seized the moment and sank my teeth into him. I barely made it two steps before he aimed at me and fired. My mother broke free from the men holding her and threw herself in front of me, taking the bullet.

I've tormented myself with it ever since. If I hadn't fought back, would my mother still be alive?

Under covering fire, the leader escaped. I held my mother's body and sobbed until I couldn't breathe.

That was the first time I met Paul. He stood beside me, gently rubbing my back.

I've thought about it many times since. If he hadn't shown up with those officers that day, the three of us would probably be reunited by now.

"What's your name?"

"Jessica Pruitt."

He murmured, "Jessica."

"Jessica. Jessica, wake up."

I pried open my heavy eyelids. The man in front of me blurred and overlapped with the boy who had rubbed my back eight years ago.

But that boy was long dead.

I found out later that Paul had never been a police officer. The only reason he'd been there that day was because Eleanor had gone missing. The last place she'd been seen was near where I'd been held captive.

As for how they eventually found Eleanor, I never learned.

Paul's self-satisfied voice dragged me back to the present.

He was standing beside Eleanor, showing off. "See? I told you. My wife can't bear to leave me. All I had to do was call her name a couple of times and she came right back from the brink." He turned to Eleanor with a grin. "You lost the bet. You're cooking dinner tonight."

Eleanor pouted. "Come on, Paul, I'm still hurt, you know."

"Fine, fine, fine. I'll cook. Happy?"

They had actually made a bet over whether I'd survive. A woman who had one foot in the grave, and they'd turned it into a game. Pathetic. Revolting.

The reason I came back was because my parents' killer was still out there. It had nothing to do with Paul.

I pressed my cracked lips together and said nothing.

Paul continued, "Jessica, you hurt Ellie. And since I'm the one who pulled you back from death's door, let's call it even. Tell your friend to drop the lawsuit."

"Besides, Ellie was only looking out for you. She had no idea your health was that fragile. Just let it go."

I beckoned Paul over with a small wave.

He looked puzzled but leaned in anyway.

"Can you help me sit up?"

My soft, quiet voice landed in Paul's ears as agreement.

He turned back to Eleanor with a wink. "See? I knew my wife would be reasonable."