Chapter 31
Grace was going to let Mark use her body to get his aggression and anger out, knowing she would enjoy it, and moaned softly as her towel dropped to the floor, pressing herself against him. She broke the kiss and pulled his shirt up over his head before going right back to kissing him. She felt him wrap his arms around her waist and knew it was working, her heart pounding, needing him as much as he needed her.
"Mmm..." He rumbled, wrenching his mouth free to attack her throat, his hands eagerly roaming her body.
"Sorry to interrupt this lovely moment but we got to go." Trish announced, walking into the room like it wasn't a big thing and headed into the bathroom. "Gracie, I think I left my earrings in- Ha, there they are." She walked back out, studying them, smirking when Mark used his body to shield Grace's. "Damn it, and here I was hoping I could join in. Glen just called Steve for a ride, you two coming?"
"Trish, let's- You walked in here on them while they were...you're not right." Steve walked right back out.
Shrugging, Trish followed him.
Grace actually started laughing when Mark began grumbling and kissed his lips before his nose. "You have me for all eternity." She murmured, kissing him again before pulling her panties and bra on along with blue jeans and a WWF t-shirt.
She brushed her hair out, leaving it down, and slipped her white Skechers on before packing her things away, knowing Mark was watching her every move. She couldn't wait to see Glen, wanting to assure him she still loved him regardless of what he'd done to Paul. She finished five minutes later and turned around, extending her hand, and smiled when Mark took hers as he rose from the bed.
"Hold on." He grumbled, watching her dress had been a bad idea. It made him think of all the interesting positions he could put her beautiful body in. Sighing, he scooped up his shirt and disappeared into the bathroom. He came back out with it on and his face and neck damp, having splashed cold water on himself. "Laugh it up, Gracie, tonight your pretty little ass is all mine." He whispered darkly in her ear, feeling her shiver and chuckled.
"I can't wait." She whispered and giggled as he dropped a kiss on her lips before grabbing her bag, rolling her eyes. He would never let her carry it, though it just proved what a gentleman he was. They stopped at his room to grab his things before heading out of the hotel, Grace stopped at the sight of Glen. Tears filled her eyes as she ran toward him and jumped in his arms, the tears flowing down her face as he held her close. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Glen..." She whispered in his ear, feeling him nod, but she refused to let him go, not yet. "Are you okay?" She finally asked, pulling back to stare into his mismatched blue eyes. "Sorry, that was a dumb question, of course you're not."
Glen smiled under his mask, having threatened bodily harm if anyone so much as moved it, right before the sedative had taken effect of course. He didn't know if the nurses had peeked, but it was still firmly in place when he had woken up so... "I will be." He whispered, gently untangling her from him and stepping away. "I need to know why."
"Makes two of us. Though I don't think Paul's regained consciousness yet."
Grace couldn't stop smiling even with everything that happened, seeing the two brothers talking civilly to each other instead of trying to rip each other apart. It did her heart good as she felt Mark's arm snake around her waist, leaning back against him. In truth, she wanted to know why her father had wanted the funeral home to burn down. She had no recollection of him ever hating their parents. She was more confused than ever as she followed Mark and Glen to the rental car, knowing they were going to the hospital to talk to Paul.
"Why would he?" Glen asked from the backseat, sitting sideways to give his legs some room. "He had no reason..."
"It's Paul, I'm sure he did, however insane it was." Mark said, his voice low and calm, though his green eyes were deadly. "He let me be raised in foster care, visited and told me false things, put you in a mental institution. Oh, I'm sure there's a reason."
"I don't care what his reason is, it won't stop me from making that hospital stay permanent."
"I just don't understand." Grace said, shaking her head. "My father never ONCE spoke ill of your parents. He admired your father for his work and loved the funeral home." Grace remembered her father even saying once that he wished to run his own... "Oh my god! That's it!" When both brothers asked her what, Grace had to take a few deep breaths before speaking. "My father said he wanted to own and run his own funeral home. He told me that a few months after working for your father. Do you think the reason he did all of this was to rebuild the funeral home for his own?"
Mark instantly shook his head. "No...He never did rebuild. He never went back into that line of work to the best of my knowledge. Didn't you see your father often, Grace?"
"He was probably out making other people's lives hell." Glen snorted.
Mark gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white, wishing it was Paul's neck in his hands.
"No, not really. He went on the road shortly after the fire." She quietly replied, staring out the window again, her eyebrows furrowed together. "He would disappear for...weeks at a time, leaving my mother to tend to me and my sisters. Probably visiting you and Glen." She had to blink tears away, her bottom lip trembling slightly. "All this time...I never knew how truly evil he was..." Her eyes closed as her forehead pressed against the cool window. "He even missed my high school graduation, not that it was a big deal because mother really couldn't afford anything. He divorced her soon after the fire too."
"Mom."
Glen frowned. "Huh?"
"Paul practically worshipped the ground she walked on."
"I don't see Paul killing her if he adored her."
Mark was quiet. "Maybe if he couldn't have her, nobody could." He said softly.
Glen hoped that wasn't something to be taken seriously, glancing at Grace.
Now that Grace thought about it, Mark was right. Anything their mother asked, her father did without hesitation. He would follow her around the funeral home while their father conducted business. What if Mark was right? What if her father did this because he couldn't have their mother for his own? He used to say how much he adored her and Grace had agreed, loving Mark's mother like her own. She treated Grace well, spoiled her even with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. She felt Mark take her hand, entwining their fingers together, and squeezed it to let him know she was alright. They would soon get their answers as Mark drove down the road, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.
Paul was conscious, regrettably. As it meant he was also in serious pain, suffering a broken collarbone, two breaks in his left leg. His entire right arm was in a cast from shoulder to wrist, fingers broken...Concussion and he resembled a bruised, puffy toad at the moment. He was in agony, between time for pain medication, the Vicodin they'd been giving him just not easing the pain and had begged for more, morphine, anything.
Grace watched him from the hospital room doorway, seeing how much damage the brothers had done, swallowing hard. He deserved it, but it didn't hurt her any less to see him in this condition. She remembered when she first met Mark –'Taker at the time- and he told her about her father's heart condition, which had been a complete lie. She didn't blame Mark though; she blamed the man lying in the hospital bed. He had warped, twisted and manipulated the brothers' minds and made them into demons for his own selfish needs. Lowering her head, Grace could only let the silent tears fall, refusing to walk toward him. She couldn't gain the strength or find it.
Paul wasn't aware of her, his eyes closed, too wracked with his own physical pain to care even if he would have seen her. He didn't see Mark gently guide her away from the door so he and Glen could enter. He did however hear the door close, eyes flying open at the sight of Mark and Glen standing on either side of his hospital bed, Grace at the foot.
"NURSE!"
Glen shut him up by pushing the palm of his hand down on his broken leg.
Paul actually lost his breath from the pain, tears welling in his eyes. "Gracie..."
"Do NOT talk to her. Don't even LOOK at her."
No matter how much she wanted to, Grace couldn't stop Glen from hurting her father, knowing he had this coming for years. After all the pain he put them through, Grace just stared at him through glistening amber eyes, trembling from head to toe. She had to grip the bedding rail to keep her legs from buckling.
"Why?" She whispered heartbrokenly. "Why did you do it? Why did you...why did you kill them?" She started sobbing, burying her face in her hands, the pain radiating off of her in waves.
"I- I didn't. 'Taker-"
Mark cut him off by snapping one of his few unbroken fingers. "Beg your pardon?"
"We can kill you right now if you prefer." Glen added, sounding conversational. He slowly removed his mask, watching as Paul's eyes widened in fear and revulsion. "Scary, I know. I see it everyday."
"Why, Paul?"
"Tell them. They have the right to know, Paul." She practically spat his name, leaving a bad taste in her mouth, and walked over to the side of the bed beside Mark to stare down at him coldly. "Was it because of Anna?" She watched as her father's eyes widened, tears falling down her cheeks. "Come clean or die with your sins." She stated in a deadly voice, amber eyes flashing.
"Anna..." Paul whispered, licking his dry lips, his gaze growing distant as he remembered the beautiful woman he had longed for, for so long. She still haunted his dreams.
Mark shot his brother a warning glance when Glen growled, his eyes cautioning him to be patient.
"I begged her to run away with me. We could have left and never looked back...I would have made her so happy." He sighed, almost wistfully.
Revulsion washed over her features as Grace stepped away from the bed, pressing a hand to her stomach, and put her head in her free hand shaking it back and forth. "Don't talk about her like that. S-She's dead." She felt the chunks rising in her throat and managed to somehow push them back down. "Go on." She whispered. "Tell us what you did."
"He killed them." Mark said flatly, not even looking at her, his eyes firmly fastened on this...thing...before him. "Didn't you?"
"I didn't mean for her to die." Paul whispered frantically, staring at him though his eyes were unseeing, lost in the memory of that fateful day.
"Just us and our father." Glen said bitterly, tears trekking down his pale, scarred face.
"Yes..." It was a hiss. "Not her..."
"W-Why would you want the boys to die?" She whispered heartbrokenly. "You knew what they meant to me and Anna never wanted you! She loved Marcus with all of her heart and you destroyed them!" Marcus was Mark and Glen's father, Mark was named after him, but their middle names were different. Mark's was William while his father's was Lucas. "How could you..." She walked over and placed a hand on Glen's arm, comforting him, not fazed by his scarred face. "How could you destroy their lives for your own selfish reasons?"
"Gracie..." Paul was beyond his pain now, staring at her intently. "Love is selfish, and destructive. You'll eventually come to know this, child." His tired eyes moved to Mark. "You already do know this. Tell me," He challenged, his voice defiant. "Tell me you would not do the same."
Mark was taken back by that, green eyes narrowing. "I would hope I loved her enough to walk away and let her be happy." He said finally.
"Mark isn't a monster like you!" She hissed angrily back at him, wiping her tears away hastily, refusing to let him see them anymore. "Mark would love me enough to let me move on, he wouldn't go crazy and he wouldn't kill an innocent family and make two men's lives a living nightmare!" She actually smacked him, feeling Glen pull her away, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "Mark was never a monster and you portrayed him like that! That's why you didn't want me on the road with you, me or the girls, isn't it? You KNEW if I came on the road I would recognize Mark, didn't you?"
"That's my Gracie, always was the sharpest knife in the drawer." Paul smiled, her smack nothing when it compared to the rest of the agony he was in. Both physically and mentally, tears streaking his bruised face, eyes wide.
Glen sighed and let her go. He wanted to kill the guy himself, why shouldn't she be allowed a few parting shots?
Mark was rifling in a drawer, pulling out a syringe. "Glen, hand me a jar of morphine from behind you, top shelf."
"Why?"
"Because he's going to be pain free when I kill him, this way he's not distracted while he dies."
"No, don't!" She practically cried out, stopping Mark from doing this, staring into his green eyes. "He doesn't deserve to go this easily, Mark. He deserves to go to prison and be raped and beaten within an inch of his life!" She sniffled, knowing she couldn't bare to witness her father's death, no matter how much she hated him at the moment. She still had a heart of gold and he would never take that away from her. "Please, do this the legal way and send him up the river." She cupped Mark's face in her hands, pressing her forehead to his. "Don't stoop to his level. Don't be a murderer like him. Please, I love you. Don't give him the easy way out."
"Prison WOULD be the easy way out." Mark said firmly, holding the syringe out of arm's reach, stepping back in case she tried paralyzing him to stop him. "He'd be out in a few years. Then what? He goes on like it never happened, just as he's been doing for the past two decades. His sin will die with him. Glen?"
Glen looked at Paul. "You put me in a mental institution." He growled, clenching his fists. "You made me think I was a monster."
"So prove me right and kill me."