Fighting For Hope

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TWENTY-SIX

HOPE

Ian and I trod confidently to Calvin’s mansion.

The plan was untarnished in our heads. I’ll enter the house and surreptitiously slip into one of the many empty rooms and unlock the window for Ian. Both of us have a little pocket knife hidden. He will create clatters while being furtive so I can have the opportunity to strike deftly and achieve an advantage. We will flee after doing our job, leaving Calvin in profound pain.

My mother would not be in the picture, nor will Justice. I hope he will never be involved in such violence, but my father had the same wish for me and look where I am now.

Ian parked his car a few buildings away, and we strolled over with confidence.

I knocked on the door and waited as my mother pushed it open for me with a look of felicity and a radiant smile.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d be coming? I could have prepared food,” she said, ushering me into the mansion. I was unmistakably certain I had yet to step into some of the rooms, despite once living here for four years. I barely did much while living with my parents. I isolated myself in my room, reluctant to face them.

It was until I turned sixteen when my mother solicited and pleaded Calvin into renting me an apartment. I prearranged to buy a house when I start working in the future, not extraordinarily massive like my father’s home, just one which is comfortable. I disliked how my stepfather was providing shelter for me, and I wished to pay most of the large sum of money back because although I despised him, I found it my responsibility to pay for what I own.

“Your brother is in your old room,” my mother told me before sauntering into the kitchen.

Without a second of time wasted, I hurried to the back of the house, where I hastily unlocked the window and slid it open. Ian then climbed through and silently closed the window.

“Remember, Ian. Leave my mother and brother out of this,” I vocalized, ensuring I receive a nod before we track down the indistinct voice of Calvin Woodland.

I could barely believe we were using Tyler’s ludicrous plan. He should be accompanying me right now and not Ian.

Ian and I found him in a room with a woman. Judging by the way her hair styled in a tight bun and the outfit, I could tell she is a nanny looking after Justice. What revolted me was the fact that they were not just chatting.

The young nanny laid her hands on either side of Calvin’s shoulder, her lips just an inch away from his. My stepfather used his two free hands to grip the side of her waist.

I felt this abrupt wrath fuel in my chest, and the revulsion I felt towards him was beyond what I thought was possible. My mother murdered a man for him, and yet he eyed another woman with eyes of lust.

Gritting my teeth, I tore my eyes from him and allowed Ian to perform his part. He knocked over items, but Calvin barely noticed. I scoffed, giving Ian his time to complete his job.

The lady that Calvin desired could be the distraction itself, but it was too much of a risk to discard the original plan.

I entered the large living room, where my mother was cradling Justice.

“Did you go into his room to find him? I should have mentioned he’s with Reina,” my mother said, looking over to the woman who she addressed as ‘Reina’. She had the same hairstyle and outfit as the woman I thought was the only nanny in the house.

I smiled and nodded, guilt-ridden for not telling her of the affair just rooms away. It clouded my thoughts before I pushed it to the back of my head.

I hung onto the fact that I loathed her as much as I detested Calvin for burying the knife in my father. I rolled my eyes. Sympathy and pity were getting in the way, messing with me. It was best to ignore it and do what I had to do.

My mother gently handed my brother onto the hands of Reina before looking around as if tribulation would occur for her next actions.

“Come with me,” she whispered.

Confused, I trailed behind her as she entered the room closest to where we were. She looked around once again before sliding a cupboard open and holding out what seemed like a critical thumb drive. When she looked back, her eyes blurred with tears and despondent expression plastered onto her face.

“This might end badly for me, but this is the right thing to do,” she vague explained of what the item was before a somewhat loud clanking noise was made. I took it into my hands and dropped it into my pocket before briefly nodding her way. Speedily, I made my way to the source of the noise.

However, what my sight beheld was unexpected. The nanny was on the ground with a revolting maroon gash on her neck, unconscious with her eyes open. In front of her was an intense fight between Calvin and Ian. Though their level in terms of fighting had a tremendous gap with Calvin swifter, I doubt he had been training lately due to the duties as a father of a new-born.

Ian had messed up.

He merely missed the punch of Calvin, who had a resolute look on his face as he delivered attacks without hesitation. Ian struggled to block, but I knew from experience that he would be able to find a moment, lift and throw Calvin to the other side of the room.

After many unsuccessful attempts, Calvin tried a move I was extraordinarily familiar with. He catches the side of Ian’s foot, about to trip him when Ian bent down speedily and held my stepfather’s leg in his hand, promptly twisting it.

I let a small smile form on my face. It was because I made that same move so often that Ian knew how to react.

At that moment, Ian let go of Calvin’s leg to lift him up and forcefully threw him on the hard marble floor.

My mother darted beside me, inquisitive about the commotion transpiring until her gaze landed on the nanny and her husband.

This would bring back some memories, and I hoped she flooded with guilt for what she had done to the only person who genuinely cared about me. Still, I loathed Calvin more than my mother, for he was the one that ordered her to do what she had done.

She was frozen beside me, no idea what to do either. I had no intention of getting between the fight. I was contented being a spectator. I knew that I would have to intervene soon, but right now, I am entertained.

Perhaps, I would have thought otherwise if I cared about any of them, but I disliked both. Ian is nothing but a man who welcomed me in his home and had me as his target years after. I was quite proud I felt this way because I would not be hurt when I discover the results. I didn’t trust.

Calvin had climbed back to his feet and immediately elbowed Ian’s face, taking advantage of his dazed moment to grab his face with force while covering his mouth.

“I remember you,” Calvin growled, swinging the hand which held Ian’s face to the right.

Ian fell towards the ground and was stepped. It felt unusual to behold the sight of Ian’s disconsolate figure. Usually, it was he who hovers over me with a scowl evident on his face.

Calvin stared as Ian tried to climb up but couldn’t since my stepfather would step on his head, causing his face to be slammed excruciatingly on the ground, mortifying Ian.

The floor was already bloody, but Ian’s perpetual effort to climb back up was astounding. He only managed when Calvin walked away, realizing my presence.

“Ah…no wonder he could enter my home.” He smiled, straightening his shirt as if winning the fight was simple.

He then drew the pocket knife, which was supposed to be with Ian, out of his pocket and pointed it towards my neck.

“Calvin! No!” my mother interjected in an instant.

I observed the scene again, ignoring the knife that currently pointed towards me. I mentally cursed at Ian as I realized he had gone against the plan.

He was supposed to distract Calvin sneakily and leave safely, but his stupid ego must have gotten the best of him, and he must have thought he could beat Calvin even after all the threats I fed him. He went for what he thought was fun. He killed the nanny and fought Calvin.

“Let me tell you something, Anne.” Calvin met my mother’s gaze. “On the night of your first husband’s death, Hope saw everything.”

The words which escaped Calvin’s lips had disconcerted my mother. I could almost hear her sprinting heart upon hearing the truth. She looked over to me, and I confirmed the statement with a nod.

“No,” my mother muttered. I showed no emotion and watched as her breathing gets heavy.

I eyed how Ian was struggling to crawl towards us, but still closing the distance. Before my mother could utter another word, I extended my arm and twisted my stepfather’s hand for the knife to drop. Ian immediately reached out to grab the knife and slashed my stepfather’s leg.

I grinned blithely as I heard an indignant cry from Calvin. Ian was immediately kicked away by Calvin’s functioning leg.

My mother stared at the scene quietly and watched as Calvin fell due to his wounded leg.

“Leave, Hope. I’ll handle this,” my mother whispered. That was enough for me to gait out of the room with Ian behind me.

“You didn’t follow the plan. You killed someone innocent,” I said.

“We did hurt Woodland, even if it was just a little, didn’t we?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

With that, I let a broad smile invade over my face.

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