Page 68 of Save Us
I take a step back and look to the floor, giving myself one more pep talk before I commit to walking through those doors. It’s been six months since my daughter returned to us; since she escaped a life that must have been pure torture for her. It’s also been six months since I forced my dad to tell me the true extent of what my mother went through before she managed to escape. It was one of the most heart-wrenching conversations I’ve had since I had had to admit to Beth what I had done to our family. It was on this same night that I decided I had to do this, for Beth, for Mum, for Dad…my real dad.
“Never been more so,” I finally reply and smile at him in such a way he knows I have to do this.
We don’t talk again after that. He simply turns and leads the way into the high-security prison with armed guards and steely eyes. This is somewhere I never expected to find myself, but then I never expected to be mixed up in the middle of a cult. Neither did I expect to be related to some evil tyrant who was hell-bent on keeping people in their place beneath him. Especially women, mainly the most important ones in my life.
“This is where I leave you, Mal,” Jonah says to me, “good luck. I hope this brings some sort of closure for you.”
“Thank you,” I reply before being buzzed through.
Under armed guard, I am led through a myriad of corridors with various blank doors on either side of me. I notice the odd inmate staring through small glass panels looking thoroughly angry or lost over their current living quarters. The guard pays them no attention, just continues to lead me forward with only the jingling of his keys to break the silence and the monotony of grey walls.
When I am but a few steps away from the final door, an intimidating black metal brick of a barrier between me and the man inside, the guard finally turns back to face me. I am frisked one more time before he checks through the small bag I’m carrying inside of my left hand. Were this man who I’m about to visit anyone ‘normal’, I wouldn’t be allowed to take such a gift. However, because of Jonah, Mayfield, and those who are still loyal to the Steeles, I have been afforded this one privilege.
“You have one hour,” the guard mumbles to me through his thick beard, before opening the door with echoing clicks of the lock.
I give the burly man a stiff nod, trying to mask my anxiety before I slowly walk through to finally come face to face with the man himself. The room is windowless, with nothing but four grey walls, a metal table, and two chairs sitting on opposite sides of it. A shade less, fluorescent light buzzes high above the table, causing an unflattering shadow to shine down upon his white hair and aged face, highlighting every wrinkle, frown, and bag under his eyes. He only looks up when I finally sit before him, and even then, he glances at the bag before he focuses his eyes on mine.
“Good morning, Malcolm,” he says so formally, I have to smirk to myself. He’s still trying to be the kingpin here with his orange jumpsuit and life sentences. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Son?”
“Morning, Carl,” I reply, “for starters, you can desist from calling me ‘Son’ seeing as I’ve never laid eyes on you before now.”
“That’s hardly my fault. Perhaps you should ask your mother about that, oh wait,” he smiles wickedly, “that’s right, you can’t; she’s dead!”
“Your comment would anger me if I didn’t think so little of you,” I shrug, “and the fact you are stuck in a windowless prison for the rest of your miserable life.”
“Well, we all have regrets,” he sighs without expression, “mine was letting your mother out of my sight. If I could go back, it would be her sitting in a windowless prison waiting for me to come home each night. She was always so delightful to release my daily stresses on.”
“Tell me,” I begin, leaning forward onto the table to ask him my next question, for I’m genuinely interested, “were you always this vile and twisted, or did it just develop over time, as it did with your young protégé? The one who stole my daughter and subjected her to so much abuse, she can’t even face talking to us about it. With your help, of course.”
“Ahh, Beth, she was a good girl,” he smiles creepily, “and still would be if I had my way. She was such a good Mayfield wife. Thinking of her makes me feel like I need to apologize to you, Malcolm.”
“Oh?” I don’t for one minute think he’s going to apologize for what he did to her; this is going to be another comment that will no doubt have me clenching my knuckles with rage.
“You were denied the life and rights of a Mayfield heir. You were destined for great things, but Rosalie selfishly stole it all away from you,” he says, looking deadly serious, “for that, I apologize.”
“My mother gave me everything I ever needed, as did my real father. They provided me with love and an amazing childhood. I owe them my life and my freedom. However…”
I reach inside of the bag and pull out something I was promised was this old man’s favourite, which it must be given how his eyes have suddenly lit up over the sight of it. I was hoping for him to give me some sort of closure, some remorse maybe, an explanation behind his lack of morals, but this creep is going to give me nothing. I guess the time has finally come.
“Dalmore fifty-year-old Scotch Whiskey; I was told it was your very favorite. With special consideration for who you once were, I have been granted permission to give this to you. I guess I owe you something for bringing me into the world, though I hate to think of what you subjected my mother to when making me.”
The old man laughs softly, as though he hasn’t got the strength to manage much more. He then picks up the bottle and studies it with a smug grin on his face.
“Well, well, well, maybe you are a Steele after all,” he mutters. “You’re a good boy, Malcolm!”
“I even brought a glass and arranged for you to take it back to your room,” I tell him as I hand over the crystal glass tumbler. “I think we both know I won’t be coming back to see you again. There is no love lost between you and me as far as I’m concerned.”
“No, I guess not,” he says, suddenly looking pensive, “I can see her in you, you know? But I think we both know who you look like more. Beth, on the other hand, well she’s all Rosalie, isn’t she?”
“Thankfully, she is,” I smile tightly. “Did you love my mother?”
“Malcolm, believe it or not, I loved your mother so much, I literally wanted to consume her,” he says with a weary sigh. “I still do.”
I watch as he opens the bottle and pours three fingers worth into the tumbler, then raises it in a ‘cheers’ motion before taking it to his parted mouth. Before I let any pass through his lips, I point to the glass and speak out.
“I feel I must warn you, that particular bottle has been laced with enough sedative to knock out a small elephant. There’ll be no coming back from that drink.”
He pauses with the glass hovering around in the air before he places it back down onto the table without expression. I smile a little, knowing I’ve finally wiped that smug grin from his face.