Brian Freeman - Stripped

Finally, the chain was limp in his hands like a dead snake. He laid it carefully on the ground. The breeze began to open the gate on its own, and Stride froze when he heard the hinges squeal. He grabbed the gate and held it tight.

He stopped and listened. The fence creaked and whined in the wind. Slowly, he began opening the gate, moving it an inch at a time, trying to minimize the rusting grind of the hinges and blend it in with the other noises on the roof. When he had a few inches of clearance, he squeezed his body through and dropped back to his knees. He pulled the chain gently to the other side of the fence, then swung the gate shut again. He rewrapped the gate and the fence together with the chain and relocked it, so that the gate wouldn’t swing wildly.

Stride was six feet from the sharp drop down to the terrace. He was at least twelve feet above the terrace floor. Immediately in front of him, almost butting up against the parapet, was a wrought-iron ladder bolted to the roof. As Stride crept closer and examined it, he saw that the ladder appeared to be original equipment from 1964. So were the bolts. The metal was rusting.

He didn’t know if the ladder would support his weight, or if it did, whether he could climb down silently. But he didn’t have a choice. There was no other way to the terrace, and it was too far to jump.

He lay flat on his stomach and stretched out his legs behind him as far as he could without colliding with the fence. He inched forward, pushing his face just past the edge so he could look down at the patio. His hair swirled in the breeze.

He heard voices below, by the pool.

Serena saw Boni standing in the doorway of the suite. No matter how small or old the man was, he still carried an aura of power. It clung to him and fitted as neatly as his suit. Claire saw him, too, and Serena tried to unravel the emotions in her face, seeing her father again. Love. Longing. Most of all, contempt.

An unhappy family reunion.

Boni didn’t even look at Blake. He looked right past him to Claire. Serena saw a father’s love in his eyes, passionate and strong; he had missed Claire badly all these years. She saw something else, too, something she wouldn’t expect from Boni Fisso. Guilt. It was everywhere in his face and how he held himself. He could barely look into her eyes, and he almost cringed under the fiery anger he saw Claire directing at him.

Not like Boni at all.

Blake scowled. “I’ve waited a long time for this. To be face to face with you.”

Boni walked out into the open air of the terrace, the neon light playing on his features. He continued to ignore Blake. “Are you allright?”he asked Claire.

“It’s a little late to worry about that,” she answered.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t even think about forgiveness. Not now. Not ever.”

Blake gestured at Serena and Claire with his gun. “Both of you, get on your knees.”

“What are you doing?” Boni demanded.

“I think you know exactly what I’m doing,” Blake replied. “You of all people.”

He was preparing to kill them, Serena thought. A tight ball of frustration and despair lodged in her heart again, just as it had when she first saw Blake in her bedroom. Serena knelt near the marble skirting of the pool, with Claire right beside her. She kept a close eye on Blake, looking for any moment when he might be distracted and she could rush him.

Claire didn’t look at Blake or the gun. She held her head high and stared angrily back at her father.

“Take off your coat,” Blake told Boni. “I want to see that you’re not carrying.”

“I always carry a gun for protection,” Boni said. “It’s in my right suit coat pocket. But I hope you don’t think I can draw fast enough to shoot you.”

“Take the coat off,” Blake repeated.

Boni shrugged and complied. Serena wondered about the coldness of a man who could get a call in the middle of the night telling him his daughter would be dead in twenty minutes and could still take the time to dress impeccably, right down to the perfect knot in his tie. Blake balled up the coat and threw it to the far side of the terrace, well away from them.

“I’m here,” Boni told Blake. “What do you want?”

“What do I want? What the hell do you think I want?”

“I have no idea. You’re nothing but a murderer.”

Blake shrugged. “Like father, like son.”

Boni jabbed afingerat him. “Don’t you dare judge me. I’ve provided entertainment for millions of people. I’ve provided homes, food, and education for thousands of employees. I’ve built hospitals, parks, and day care centers. Right here on this ground, where we’re standing now, the greatest resort in the city is going to rise up. So don’t you try to compare your pathetic little life to mine, you worthless piece of shit.”

“You made me what I am!” Blake spat the words out.

“That’s bullshit. So you got dealt a tough hand. Big fucking deal. I was born with nothing, and I built everything myself If you’re still a sniveling child hiding in the closet in Reno, don’t blame me “

Blake took a step forward and shoved his gun hard into the skin of Claire’s forehead. Claire’s eyes widened in terror, and she tried to back away, but Blake grabbed her by the throat. “You don’t give a shit about your son?” he asked Boni. “Maybe you give a shit about your daughter.”

Boni’s voice was like ice. “Let her go.”

“Tell me about Arnim.”

“Let go of my daughter,” Boni repeated.

Blake yanked the gun away and pointed it at Boni. “Amira,” he said again.

“What do you want to know?” Boni asked.

“Why did you make her give up her baby?”

Boni hesitated. Serena could see it again-the calculations always spinning in his mind as he looked for the best odds. As he looked for a winning hand.

“Our baby ,” Boni replied quietly. “I was the father”

“Do you think I don’t know, Dad? Blake said. “That makes it even worse.”

Boni shook his head. “I had no choice. Eva, my wife, knew about Amira. Eva hadn’t been able to get pregnant herself, and she was furious to find out that Amira was going to have a baby. My baby. She wanted it to go away. I mean, really go away. An abortion. But I wasn’t about to do that. So instead I sent Amira away to have the baby, and I led Eva to believe that Amira had had the abortion and was in Paris getting over it. Getting over me.”

“Amira wanted to keep me,” Blake said.

Boni hesitated, and his eyes flicked to Claire. “Yes, of course. She was devastated to give up her child.”

Serena remembered what Boni had told them before, that Amira couldn’t wait to berid of the screaming brat. That she had no interest in the child at all. Had that been a lie? Or was he now trying to spare Blake’s feelings and talk him down?

“Then Eva did finally get pregnant,” Boni went on. “While Amira was away. It made me wonder if she’d been taking precautions all along and not telling me.”

“But Eva thed,” Blake said. “She thed giving birth to Claire, and you had your daughter. And I was in the hands of a monster. Why didn’t you come get me then? How could you turn your back on your own son?”

“No one knew it was my baby. Just me, Amira, and Eva. I couldn’t very well admit it at that point. Particularly-”

Boni stopped.

Blake finished the sentence. “Particularly because you murdered Amira. “

Boni was silent.

“Tell me what happened,” Blake insisted.

“I have nothing to say about that.”

“Tell me.”

“It won’t change a thing.”

Blake stormed back to Claire and shoved the pistol back in her face, nearly knocking her backwards. “Tell me.”