Liam directs us to the seafood restaurant near the back of the park. We weren’t far from it when he caught up to us.
He lets us in using the door codes we had no idea he knew. He says nothing, just raises the sword to show us who’s still in control.
Clearly, I know I cannot beat him.
Not right this second, anyway.
The restaurant is clean and rather clinical-looking compared to the rest of the island. There are modern white tables and chairs, a sushi bar, and a stainless-steel kitchen that I can see through a wide hatch.
He opens a door off the kitchen and gestures with his chin for us to go in there.
There’s nothing I want to do less than walk in there—a storeroom—but what choice do I have?
I go first, Harper only just behind me. She’s plastered to my back, and I think I can feel her trembling.
Liam flicks the light on. I should get used to calling him Robert, I suppose.
It doesn’t seem real that it’s the same person.
But is it?
“What’s your real name?” I ask.
“Robert Liam Jenkins,” he replies.
“Camilla was in on it.”
He walks around a tall shelf splitting the storeroom in half. It’s stacked with products, like rice and sauces, in preparation for the opening next week.
That won’t happen now.
“Hello, Malcolm,” Liam says.
I step around the corner.
Malcolm is tied to a chair with a gag in his mouth, dried blood under his nose, and his right eye swollen.
With a painful-sounding groan, Malcolm lifts his head. When he sees Harper and me, he mumbles something around the cloth.
“Shut up,” Liam—Robert—spits. “The girls were wondering why I despise you. Care to weigh in?”
He yanks the gag from Malcolm’s mouth, and it falls down around his neck.
“Robert, please. You have to let me go.”
“No, I don’t. Tell them what you did.”
“It wasn’t my decision. Your grandparents’ will was their—”
“Stop!” Robert spits. “Stop making excuses.”
“What happened?” I ask. “Robert, tell us. You’ll tell us the truth, not him.”
Malcolm shoots me a death glare. There’s a reason why I don’t want to take Malcolm’s side. Surely he can see that.
“My mom was older.”
He’s already using past tense.
Sick.
“Older by three years, but that didn’t matter to my grandpa. He was a mean old bastard. Hated women. The heir to their millions was always going to be a male. If Malcolm had come first, my mom wouldn’t have been born.”
“That’s terrible,” I say.
“She worked her ass off every day to please them. She went to college, got a good degree, joined the family company at midmanagement level. My grandpa made it clear that she would never get any higher. Malcolm messed around, got drunk, partied his way through college. He dropped out and was still left everything.”
“I was young, Robert. The pressure of having to—”
“I really don’t care how you felt,” Robert says, not giving Malcolm the chance to get his side across.
“My grandparents were worse after I was born. My dad, whoever he is, took off and Mom had to do it alone. No one helped her, not even her brother. She was alone with a kid to raise and a shitty job she could never progress in.”
He waves the sword at Malcolm.
“They died and you inherited everything. The whole estate was yours. Mom didn’t get a penny, just a clause in the will that said she was to be kept on in her current role. And what did you do with this injustice?”
I can guess that he didn’t split it with Camilla.
“Nothing. I was ten by this point, had no relationship with my grandparents because I was the bastard child who brought shame on the family. I’d met them twice and that was only because I was in the car when Mom had to run into the office. I don’t remember you,” he tells Malcolm. “Did you ever visit?”
Malcolm swallows audibly. “I made sure your mom had money.”
He barks a laugh. “Uh, if you mean that you let her keep her job, okay. While you turned into an overnight multimillionaire, she got to keep her nine-to-five.”
Malcolm’s head is ducked, eyes low, cheeks red.
His sister. I knew there was something more to their relationship.
He’s not proud of how poorly he treated his sister, but it took all of this to get there. That much is clear since he never divided the estate.
Camilla must have been heartbroken.
“My mom went from being controlled by her parents to being controlled by her brother. Everything she worked so hard for was worthless. You should’ve seen her pain when she found out she was getting nothing.”
Liam clears his throat. “I was furious. She was devastated. Then Malcolm ‘promoted’ her to be his personal assistant. She was running multiple companies for him and earning a friggin’ secretary’s wage. Malcolm barked his orders, told her which direction to take the business, which hotels to buy, and sat back while she worked her fingers to the bone. Eight a.m. to seven p.m. every day. Her wage increased by ten thousand dollars. For three more hours every day she got an extra ten grand a year!”
Liam’s face turns as red as his uncle’s.
He breathes out through his teeth in what almost sounds like a growl.
“I was fifteen and barely saw my mom. It meant I was alone in a house that was too big and too expensive for us. Everyone knew her parents were rich, so she pretended we were too. When Mom told me he’d bought an island, I lost it. It took a full year to get her on board.”
Malcolm gasps, eyes wide, jaw slack, and he looks up at Robert with betrayal in his eyes.
“That’s right, uncle. Your sister ended up hating you as much as I did.”
“What did Camilla agree to?” I ask.
Her reaction in the bar when she whispered about Robert was real. She was scared and confused.
Liam smirks over his shoulder. “She agreed to sabotage the island. The influencer thing was my idea, she just needed to plant it with Malcolm. By that point I had an online presence playing video games. Nothing else to do since we had little money and my mom was always out. I worked hard to build my platforms. I told her we’d scare everyone who came and make the island seem unsafe. A broken ride here, a kitchen catching fire there was all we’d need. Once you all put it out there, he would be ruined. The worst amusement park in the US. I promised her no one would get hurt.”
Malcolm shakes his head, sobbing softly, probably wishing he’d shared his sudden fortune with his sister.
Who, in my eyes, was just as entitled to their parents’ money, considering all she’d done. What kind of brother takes everything for himself?
I feel Harper tug on the hem of my T-shirt, but I don’t dare look at her. We can’t escape yet. Robert isn’t distracted enough. He’d catch up to us quickly.
I rest my hand on the metal shelving beside me. How easy would it be to pull that down? Harper and I would be prepared. We’d duck as we pulled it. Malcolm was just past where it would fall.
Robert would take the brunt of the hit.
I had to try.
“Why did you change your mind about hurting people?” I ask.
“He didn’t recognize me when I stepped onto the island. His own nephew.” Liam laughs. “It made me hate him more. I didn’t think that was possible, but it was. Silly, really, since I counted on him not knowing who I was.”
“Why did you kill your mom?”
Malcolm sobs a “no” and folds into himself as much as the rope will allow.
Just as I’d hoped, Robert turns to Malcolm while answering my question.
“She wanted to stop me. I’ve had this planned for a very long time. I started hating you when I was a kid, and it grew bigger and stronger every day. Sometimes I could barely stand it. I wanted to walk into your office and put a knife through your eye. God, I think about that so often. She knew I’d done something when Will went missing and she wanted me to stop. I couldn’t have her getting in my way.”
So his loathing of his uncle trumped his love for his mom. What a sick, sick person.
That explains Camilla’s reactions every step of the way.
With his back turned, I look over my shoulder at Harper and silently tap the shelving. I bend my knees slightly. She nods, telling me she understands what I want her to do.
She places her hand on the same shelf as me.
I mouth “One, two, three” and we both yank the shelf hard. I duck and before I hit the floor, I shuffle back.
The shelf tilts. Boxes fly off onto the ground. Robert only has enough time to turn halfway before the shelf smashes him on the head.
I’m on all fours, backing up as fast as Harper behind me can go.
“Paisley! Harper!” Malcolm shouts as we stand up at the other end.
“No, we have to go,” Harper says, tugging on my hand. The shelf is lying on top of Robert. He’s still, but that doesn’t mean he’s dead.
“We can’t leave him. He’ll be dead if Robert gets up.”
She swears under her breath and picks a knife from a magnetic strip over the countertop. I watch Robert as she cuts a trembling Malcolm loose.
I never thought I could feel sorry for him, but he’s clearly shaken after learning that his sister is dead.
He stands, throwing the rope onto the floor just as Robert groans and pushes himself up as much as he can.
The shelf is caught on the wall an inch above him, so he’s not even on his knees but all he has to do is roll.
“Come on!” I shout as the two of them run past the shelf.
Harper reaches me but Robert is too fast. He’s rolled over and slashes the sword at Malcolm’s calves. Malcolm goes down with a hell of a scream.
“Run!” Harper shouts.
The last thing I see before I’m out the door is Robert sticking the sword into Malcolm’s back.
Just like Malcolm did to Camilla.
