Relentless Sinner

Chapter 35

Chapter Thirty-Five

Jaxon

People say behind every great man stands a great woman.

Gabriella is mine.

I only feel like a great man when I’m with her. And at times like these, she gives me strength.

We’re at my family home in Russia with my father. We arrived a few days ago.

Today, my father wants to visit my mother and Jacob at the cemetery. He wants the two of us to go. Each day with him has been uncertain. I never know if he’ll make it to the next. I never knew I’d care.

He is my villain, my monster, my tormenter. But despite all those things, he’s still my father. And one day very soon, he won’t be here anymore.

When I get him in the car, I walk back to the porch to say goodbye to Gabriella.

I stare at her and drink in the love and sympathy in her eyes.

I’d hoped that whenever we came here together, it could be a happier experience. Maybe another time.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?” she asks, glancing at my father in the car, who dips his head at her.

She gives him a sweet smile and looks back at me.

“No. It’s best if I go with him. I think he sees these moments as an attempt to bond with me. A little too late, right?” I grin sheepishly.

“Better to be late.”

“Yeah, Krasota. Better to be late.” I lean forward and kiss her. “I’ll see you later.”

“Be careful.”

With one last smile, I leave her, then Father and I set off on the hour-long journey.

He’s quiet the whole time, looking through the window and staring at the scenery as we drive by.

I take the time to reflect. Two weeks have gone by since Eric’s truth dropped on us like a bomb. I still haven’t gotten over it. I don’t suppose I ever will. I’ve put a lot of things on pause, like the restructuring of the leadership. I need time to process, think, and learn to trust again.

Eric’s treachery hit me hard and was no different from having a limb hacked off. Or my heart ripped out of my chest and crushed.

I might have been able to wrap my head around the parts my father played because it didn’t surprise me. Yes, it was disappointing and disheartening to hear what he did because Eric was his best friend, and his family were like our own. But it’s in my father’s nature to be evil and selfish.

Eric, on the other hand, was the person I looked up to as a symbol of goodness in our dark world. I suppose when you lose people you love the way he did, it changes you and you lose all sense of morals to avenge them.

I just wish he didn’t kill Jacob. The more I thought about it, the more I understood Eric’s reasons for killing him. Jacob was the last thing left in my father’s world he loved most. Eric wanted my father to feel the pain of losing his wife and child the same as he did.

However, like him, I had to avenge my brother when I killed Eric. My wrath was also filled with the pain of being disappointed in him.

It’s over now. Now I must move on.

I have a chance to make life different and I have a future with Gabriella.

That’s what I want.

That’s all I want.

It’s a hell of a lot better than the future I first saw. That one wasn’t filled with the happiness I share with my wife. It makes me wonder what things will look like for us in years to come. I imagine that life will be even better than it is now.

The moment I pull onto the grounds of the cemetery, the gloom of being here settles over me, tamping down the momentary excitement I felt for the future.

This is the first time we’ll be here knowing that Jacob didn’t die from a car accident.

The entire area is a forest of snow, like the enchanted woodlands in folklore. Except this is our family plot. A place of death, a place of memory, a place of those who used to be.

Father looks at me, and I can tell he’s thinking the same thing. A tremor rushes through his arms and his eyes become paler.

“Let’s go see them,” I say with a curt smile, summoning strength. “It’s been a while.”

“It has.”

I help Father out of the car and into his wheelchair, then I spread a blanket over him and push the chair along the path.

As the grounds are maintained by a caretaker, everything looks pristine, so when we reach the graveside, the snow has already been cleared off the marble headstones of my mother and brother.

“Hello, my loves,” Father says in a solemn voice, looking from my mother’s grave to Jacob’s. He lingers on Jacob’s a little longer. “It’s my fault you’re here, Jacob. I’m so sorry, moy syn.”

His breathing becomes ragged, then he looks at my mother’s grave, and tears stream down his cheeks.

In all this time, he’s never allowed me to see him cry.

“Father.” I rest my hand on his shoulder and move beside the chair to face him.

“My life is fading, Jaxon.” His tone is weaker than usual. He rests his head on the back of the chair and stares at me. “I asked you to bring me here today because I think it’s my last.”

I shake my head at him. “Don’t say that. You may have some time yet.”

Listen to me. I am the same guy who couldn’t find it in his heart to give him hope months ago. Now I do, and I know it’s because I’ve changed.

He stares at me, his eyes filled with that regret and sadness I’ve seen so many times. “I’m sorry, my son. I wish that were true for so many reasons. None of them for me. But for you.”

“Me? Why?”

“So that I could continue trying to be the father I should have been to you. There was nothing good about me. I’m ashamed that I married such a good woman, and she died bringing you into this world, and I never took care of you. I was so selfish I messed everything up. Even the relationship I could have had with you.” He pauses for a moment, and I wish I could tell him he’s wrong, but he’s not. “If I could do it all again, I would have loved you the way I should have. I wouldn’t have let you fall into drugs. If you did, it would have been me who got you back on your feet, not someone else’s father. I would never have allowed you to go to college in England to get away from me. And I would never have let you compete for your birthright. You were always Pakhan, and truth be told, you were a better man than all of us.”

My heart warms, and that desire to have his love and respect that I so often told myself I didn’t care for seeps into me. “It means a lot to hear you say that.”

“It is the truth of my regrets, Pakhan. There is no forgiveness for me for all the things I’ve done to you. But I wonder if maybe you could think better of me.” He reaches out one trembling hand to take mine.

I take his hand and hold it, then I nod. “Yes. I can think better of you.”

He gives me a weak smile. “Your mother was right. You were worth it.”

That’s the best thing he’s ever said to me. “Thank you.”

“ Welcome, sweet angel, you’re home with me, you’re home with us,” he speaks the words of my mother’s song, smiles wider, then returns his gaze to her grave, but he doesn’t let go of my hand.

He rests his head back on the chair and we stay like this for a while. Then he closes his eyes, and moments later, his grip loosens in mine.

When I look at him and see he’s not breathing anymore, I know he’s gone.