Part X: Set Me Free

Part X: Set Me Free

            “I'm holding this gun because you are all in the presence of a master deceiver, Mother.” Said Victor coldly as he raised the barrel and pointed it at Rive.

            “Victor, please, I thought you were supposed to help me!” Pleaded Rive. “You told me you would!”

            “The things this boy has said have all been lies. Everything I have done, was to finally free myself from the shameful bonds of the wrongful accusations that sent me to the pits of despair; alas, I stand before you a victorious man. I have discovered the culprit and I will soon be free from this wretched scandal.” Victor stood proudly, though he was badly scuffed and bruised.

            “Victor,” said his father, “my boy, what proof do you have that he is the one who set you up?”

            With a gentle whistle of the young gentleman, three men slowly entered the home; a larger man fit to be a sailor, a smaller man, who was very well built, and a diminutive pipsqueak who looked like he would simply vanish without a moments notice.

“These men are witness to the events of that night and can testify that they saw this young boy slipping some sort of drug into my drink as well as the drink of the woman I awoke with the next morning.” Said Victor.

            “Is this true?” Asked his father.

            “Y-yes sir. We saw the whole th-thing.” Said the smaller of them.

            “Fetch the police, love.” Said Mr. Coyle to his wife.

            Emilia still sat next to the boy, tending his wounds. She watched the boy and Victor as this dramatic revelation took place. She wanted so badly to believe the man before her, but in her gut, nothing about this situation felt right.

            “Boy, is it true? Tell me honest now.” She whispered as she leaned in close to Rive.

            “I told you the truth ma'am, I swear it on my life. I just want to be free of the madness out there.”

            Emilia leaned back, taking in the words the boy said curiously; cautiously. Calling over Claire, she whispered something into her ear. The maid silently made her way out of the room and vanished.

            “Come along Emilia, we'll be back as quickly as possible, dear.”

            “Friends, would you mind accompanying them? This late in the evening they may need some protection from other criminals, since the streets seem to be teeming with them.” Said Victor softly as he motioned for them to follow the woman, a strange look flashing in his eyes.”

            “Oh, that would be lovely, thank you so much.” Said Mrs. Coyle. “Shall we go?” Putting their coats on, Mrs. Coyle and the three gentleman stepped out onto the open porch.

            Emilia lagged behind, doubt filling her mind.

            “Emilia, Come along.” Insisted Mrs. Coyle.

            Hesitantly, she too readied herself and stepped outside. Silence in the house made the creaking of the front door much more ominous and obnoxious than it normally would have been. A sinking feeling crept through Emilia's stomach as she stepped lightly down the porch and on to the stone walkway leading up to her home.

            “By the way dear, where are your parents? I noticed it was only you and Claire at home.” Asked Mrs. Coyle

            “They're out ma'am. They had a dinner party planned with some of the investors of father's business.” She replied.

            “Oh my, that's right. How silly of me to have forgotten.”

            “It's quite alright.” Assured Emilia.

            The cool breeze stung her cheeks as they walked. She watched the three men carefully as they walked. It seemed to her that they were looking for something. Their eyes constantly scanned the streets, for what, she was unsure. Occasionally they would lean toward one another and whisper something. The sound of her heels on the cobblestone greatly hindered her ability to eavesdrop on their exchanges.

            “There's one now!” Said one of the men. “Come along miladies.” He continued. Hastening his pace, he made his way toward a patrolling officer.

“Oh thank heavens.” Said Mrs. Coyle excitedly.

            As the rest of the group approached, Emilia became all too aware of the very real danger she and Mrs. Coyle had found themselves in. As Mrs. Coyle tapped the officer on the shoulder, expecting to beg his assistance. She was surprised when a filthy, burly man turned around.

            “Boo!” The large man laughed. “Surprise! We played the parts well didn't we mums?”

            “I don't understand, what is going on?” Asked Mrs. Coyle frightened by the display.

            “You don't get it yet?” Said the shorter, well built one of the group. “These are me boys, mum. We was asked real polite to show you a good time then get rid of you.”

            “Yeah, a few hundred sh-shin plasters of pol-litness.”

            “Shut it stutts!” Said the leader of the group. “ You see, we were promised a couple of horizontal refreshments and if you couldn't tell, we're quite ravenous. Lets have some fun boys--”

            “Don't even consider it, you scoundrels!” Shouted Emilia as she reared back her leg and thrust it forward with all all her might, burying her shin in the boss's groin. She and Mrs. Coyle turned to run as he slowly dropped to the ground.

“Son-of-a-b***h!” He shouted. “Don't just stand there, go get 'em!”

            Things were only going to escalate at Emilia's home as well. With only silence to fill the home. Only Victor, his father, and the boy were left in the study

            “My boy, I'm so proud! I knew you'd find a way to come home!” Mr. Coyle smiled widely. His rosy cheeks amplified by the handlebar mustache that traced the lower lines of his cheek bones. But Victor turned the pistol, aiming at his father.

            “Oh no, father. This charade is long since tired, lets put it to bed, shall we?”

            “Victor, what are you talking abou--”

            “I know that it was Robinson who slipped the drugs in my drinks during the after party at the show. I know that he was there as a request by a friend. He was the one who introduced me to that girl, what was her name...Alyssa. And I know that it was you who paid him to do so. What I don't understand, father... is why?”

            Mr. Coyle stood for a moment, his lips bobbing and tongue twitching. Certainly he was reaching through the depths of his mind for some way to justify his actions and dismantle the accusations placed before him.

            “What was I supposed to do! You were about to ruin everything. Your carelessness was going to expose all the hard work we'd done. I slaved for twenty three years to make this business what it is, and in a measly four years, you would have brought it crashing down because of your oversized ego!”

            “Careful, father. Remember who has the gun.” Said Victor chidingly

            “Marcous and the others were getting nervous because of you and your foolishness. How many times did I tell you to slow down? You were supposed to be the perfect boy like your brother! And there you were acting like your good old self, getting involved in crooked deals and all kinds of unprofessional arrangements!” Mr. Coyle paced around anxiously, trying to reason with Victor by showing him the pressure he'd been under. You were supposed to be perfect like Vi--”

            BANG

            Victor pulled the trigger. Mr. Coyle fell to the ground without a word, clutching his chest. Rive did his best to tuck himself into the corner of the sofa, certain that he was damned to be next.

            “I am Victor, father. Who else was going to be?”

            “I was, Nicollo.” Said a voice from behind him.

            As he turned in surprise, Victor was knocked to the ground locked instantly in a desperate struggle with an unknown entity. Wrestling on the floor, His grip on the firearm waxed and waned as he fought for control of the suddenly deteriorated situation.

            One, then two, then three times the gun discharged, perforating the walls of the room. Then there was a stillness. The scuffle stopped, and there was only a shadowy figure laying over a now dying Victor Coyle. In the struggle, he'd managed to shoot himself in the throat. Blood poured from the open hole as he tried to speak. His words inaudible through the choking, gargling sounds of a drowning, dying man.

            The stranger stood, a tattered duster hiding his features. He walked over to the boy who lay still on the couch, his life was fading. One of the shots fired at some point during the struggle had stuck him in the stomach. This wound was far more serious than his previous.

            “Emilia, Mother!” Shouted the man with fear on his words. “Oh no...”

            In a flash, Emilia was at his side, as was his mother. Mrs. Coyle beside Emilia, she realized why she was beckoned so frightfully and went to work trying to save the boy's life once more. The man and Emilia sat together as they clutched the boys hand, tears trickling down all their faces. Rive's eyes were heavy, and his vision was blurring. He looked out at a shadow in front of him.

            “Trick, is that you?” Asked the boy.

            “Yes, friend. I am here.” Said the man.

            “did...did I do good?” Rive's breath grew shorter.

            “You did wonderfully, Rive. I'm so proud of you.”

            “That's good, I'm glad it's over. Now...now you can go home again...right?” The boy's eyes could barely part as a tiredness he'd never known seeped into him.

            “That's right, but it wouldn't be the same without you. You've got to hang in there, my friend. We've been through so much over the years. You've become the son that I always wish that I had. You can't leave me, Rive. Not now. Not when things are only just now beginning.” Trick squeezed the boy's hand as he pressed it to his forehead, tears streaming down his face.

            “Thank you, Trick...or should I say V-Victor. You were...the only person...who ever cared about me. I wish that...the th-three of us could be a family...someday--” Rives speech slowed and his tongue grew heavy as he spoke through ever shortening breath.

            Emilia watched as her heart broke for the boy and for her beloved Victor, freed from the shadow of his corrupt brother and father only to lose his closest friend; to watch the only companion he'd had for the years he'd lived on the streets die so many years before his time.

            “No, thank you Rive.” Victor said softly.

The boy's grip relaxed, and a sigh escaped his lips.

            “Rive?” He called.

            “...Rive?” He called again, tears brimming in his eyes. But the boy wouldn't answer.

            Victor and Emilia held one another, hearts broken by the tragedy of the night. The defeat of darkness over shadowed by the loss of light. A young boy cast aside by the world, doing what he needed to survive, but untainted by the cruelty of the streets. His only wish: to be free from the only home he'd ever known. His only dream: to be loved.

            Mrs. Coyle would work on through the night, refusing to concede that the boy had been lost, convinced that, perhaps, he could yet be saved.