The snow shone like crystals against the dim lighting of the sunset, the perfect setting for a peaceful Christmas celebration.
Far after the reign of the Cutthroat Killer, the town of Gates Mill seemed to lull into a much-needed era of peace, the fear having dissipated, and the serenity of the quaint town finally returning once more. And after all they’d experienced, and all they wanted to forget, Ariella and her family felt far from all the concerns that so deeply infected them during autumn; time passed, the aftermaths of the conflicts mostly resolved, and now, everyone was finally focused on living happily and moving forward.
Vance Callaghan’s name was all over the news for weeks after Halloween, and anyone who thought him crazy before certainly didn’t now—because Vance was the hero who brought down the Cutthroat Killer. He didn’t feel like a hero, but he did find solace in his new relationship with the town, people giving him praise rather than doubts, and smiles rather than frowns. And, after the long talk with Ariella about the Hunter-Callaghan relationship, and after their appearances at the funerals and the court sessions—the worst of it came to an end, and everyone in the family wanted nothing more than to move on at last.
On this lovely Christmas Eve, everyone intended to focus only on one thing—savoring the fun and the peace that they’d finally attained, because they, perhaps more so than anyone else in Gates Mill, knew never to take the presence of their loved ones for granted, never to waste time on trivial issues, and never miss the opportunity to spend time with friends and family. Because, as they all now understood on a profound level, you never know when a loved one might suddenly flicker out of your life forever. Death was something understood purely and deeply by the Hunter-Callaghan family and the Gates Mill Gate Keepers.
And today, as the cold sunset drifted into an icy twilight outside, the front yard coated in a thin layer of snow—Max was beaming away with excitement, repeatedly adjusting his stocking on the wall and taking decorations off the tree in the corner, placing them on different branches until he was satisfied with its appearance. Lumis chuckled from the couch as he watched, Ariella cooking up a storm in the kitchen alongside her father, giggling every time she turned to face him—as Vance Callaghan, the legendary war hero who took down Gates Mill’s notorious serial killer, was wearing a long salmon-colored apron, one that once belonged to Melinda Hunter.
For the fifth time today, Ariella stopped in front of the stove, scanning her father up and down and chuckling as she shook her head.
Vance paused, eyeing her and holding up his spatula questioningly. “What? What do you keep laughing at?”
“You look like a housewife from the fifties ,” Ariella chortled, laughing louder and smacking him on the chest.
Vance glared at her blankly. “Shut up and whip the mashed potatoes.”
“Hey!” Max hollered, flopping over the back of the couch and staring into the kitchen. “When is Grandpa getting here? Tell him I want money for Christmas.”
“Max,” Lumis griped. “He’s not your grandpa, and you better keep that selfish attitude in check—or I’m gonna tell Santa on you.”
“You guys, the food’s pretty much done now,” Ariella informed, motioning to the overcluttered counters. “Time to move the couch and set up the tables.”
Lumis nodded, he and his son standing from the couch. Vance and Lumis lifted the couch and carried it toward the other side of the living room, moving various other items aside before pushing the couch firmly against the wall. Ariella and Max collected the foldable tables from the hallway and began setting them upright, lining them up from the kitchen to the living room, manufacturing one long table surface for their big Christmas dinner.
“Where’d you get all the tables from?” Lumis asked.
“Julian,” Ariella replied, grabbing the table cloths and draping them over the elongated surface. “They’re from the church.”
“And they didn’t melt when the church was on fire? ” Lumis said with a laugh. “They’re made of plastic , for God’s sake.”
“What? They put the fires out,” Ariella told him. “The entire building didn’t burn down…”
Just then, there was a knock on the door. Vance moved around the tables and pulled the door open, a gust of cold air rushing into the house.
Rodney stood on the front porch, covered in several layers of clothes and a thick winter jacket, a decorative and colorful beanie covering much of his head, two long, braid-like strings of cloth hanging down from either side of the hat. He had an aluminum-covered tray of food in his hands.
Ariella peeked over her father’s shoulder, grinning at Rodney. “Oh my God… I thought those hats were just for little kids. Aww, you look so cute! ”
“Ha-ha,” Rodney said sarcastically, holding up the hot tray of food. “I bring offerings.”
“Here—get inside, it’s freezing,” Vance requested, stepping aside. “I told you, you don’t have to knock when you come here.”
“Yeah, well… it’d be easier if I still had a key,” Rodney remarked, stepping inside and placing the tray on the table.
“Right… I keep forgetting,” Vance mumbled, closing the front door. “I’ll have another key made tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow is Christmas day , Vance,” Rodney laughed. “Nothing’s gonna be open.”
“Then I’ll do it tomorrow’s tomorrow,” Vance quipped in response, moving to the side and pulling out a chair. “Siddown, old man.”
“Don’t get an attitude with me, boy,” Rodney snarked. “You call me old one more time, and I’m gonna tell Ariella exactly why you’re not allowed at Seaworld anymore.”
Ariella’s mouth drifted open, her eyes shifting between her father and grandfather interestingly. Rodney flashed a coy half-smile, Vance glaring at him with a deadpan visage.
“What… what did he do? ” Ariella breathed, smiling and looking to Rodney. “What the hell did he do at Seaworld?!”
“Well… when your father was ten years old, he got the brilliant idea to steal live animals ,” Rodney stated, shooting Vance a look. “And I still, to this day, cannot fathom how he expected to get away with that. He had hermit crabs in his pockets , for Heaven’s sake. You know why he got caught? Because they pinched him right where you don’t wanna be pinched, and he ended up hollerin’ like holy hell.”
Ariella exploded with laughter, Rodney snickering along with her. Vance turned away, reeling his head back and closing his eyes with disdain. Lumis listened from across the room as he worked to set the table, shaking his head down at it and chuckling, muttering something that sounded like “ Lord have Mercy …”
Ariella and Rodney then shared a hug, and as they did, Vance hunched over the hot tray of aluminum-covered food, inhaling the heavenly scent that seemed to be emitting from it.
When Rodney separated from his granddaughter, he let out a laugh, watching Vance investigate the tray closely.
“Yes… that’s exactly what you think it is,” Rodney chuckled.
Vance’s eyes flickered up to him. “Triple-cheese lasagna?”
“Yessir,” Rodney confirmed. “Family tradition.”
As Ariella worked to finish the food on the stove and carry the trays and giant plates over to the table, Max leaned over the table and stared up at Rodney expectantly.
After a moment, Rodney caught his lingering gaze. “And how’re you, young man?”
“Grandpa—will you tell Santa I want money for Christmas?” Max asked, Lumis shushing him, but Rodney merely laughed and nodded in response.
“Well… your father told me you’ve been on your best behavior this week, and you did all your chores, plus some extra,” Rodney said to the boy, leaning on the table and smirking at him. “Now, you wouldn’t just be doing all that to impress Santa, would you?”
“No,” Max replied. “Sometimes I doubt he’s even real.”
Rodney raised his brows, glimpsing over at Lumis, who made a hush motion with his finger.
“I mean, like… Santa travels around the entire world in one night, right?” Max said. “But… it’s daytime in certain parts of the world right now. How can he travel the whole world in one night if the whole world isn’t having nighttime?”
“ That’s what you have a problem with?” Ariella giggled. “Not the magical deer, or the flying sled, or the midget sweatshop he supposedly runs—”
“ Ari …!” Max pouted, slapping his hands to the table and covering his ears. “Aaaah! You’re ruining my innocence! Shut uuup! ”
Ariella laughed and rustled his hair.
“Well, it just so happens… I stopped by the bank today and dipped into my savings a little bit,” Rodney said smugly, reaching inside his jacket and sliding out a twenty. “But this money is only for people who’re good all year ‘round, not just one week before Christmas.”
“I have been good!” Max declared. “I do so much cleaning here, and Vance told me I was being a perfect house guest! I didn’t even cry at Mom’s funeral!”
Rodney’s smile weakened.
A brief silence loomed over everyone for a moment.
Then, Rodney reached over the table and held out the twenty. When Max tried to take it, his grasp on it tightened, and he gave the child a firm look.
“It’s not bad to cry at a funeral, son,” Rodney told him sincerely. “That’s not part of this whole ‘being good all year ‘round’ deal. You hear?”
Max gave him an understanding nod, and Rodney released the money into his palm.
The front door opened, allowing another cold breeze inside—Arkus and Julian marching into the house and closing the door. Arkus’s arms were full, carrying a laptop on one side and a long, rectangular Christmas present on the other.
“Look who I found,” Arkus smirked, nodding sideways at Julian. “This bloke was still at the damn soup kitchen—volunteering on Christmas Eve. You believe that?”
“Well… hobos have to eat, too,” Julian mumbled, peeling the beanie off his head. “Oh… everything smells wonderful.”
Ariella was still working to carry every massive plate, pot, and pan over to the tables. Julian spotted her and instantly headed for the kitchen.
“You need help?” Julian offered kindly.
“Oh, thank you…” Ariella breathed, placing a large pot into Julian’s arms. “ Thank you.”
Julian smiled sweetly, both of them carrying all the food over to the tables together.
Arkus scooted the kitchen table away from the elongated table, then placed the laptop down and opened it, plugging it in before powering it on. As he did, Vance and Lumis finished placing plates and silverware around the table, Rodney and Max doing the same with cups. When all the food was finally on the table, Ariella let out a relieved breath, facing Arkus and feeling comforted by his sly, whimsical smile. He pulled her into a tender embrace, kissing her warmly before grabbing the rectangular Christmas present from the kitchen table.
“Jaxson sends his regards from his Nevada vacation,” Arkus stated, handing the box to Ariella. “And he sends presents, too. This one’s for you.”
“Oh, sweet. Did he get what I asked for?” Ariella grinned, opening the box and peering inside. “I already got the cutters, so I just need… oh hell yes. He definitely did.”
As everyone else busied themselves with setting the table, Ariella placed the box down on the couch across the room, slowly pulling out a long, curved object.
Arkus stared at it, his smile fading.
Ariella, however, seemed pleased with the gift. The branch-saw shone a brilliant silver in the living room’s light, brand new and untainted by age or rust.
When she turned—she spotted Vance just beside her, eyeing the branch-saw and giving her a deep, strange stare.
“What? It’s for the branches outside,” Ariella mumbled. “They’re all over the fence now. I got cutters, too. You said we had to deal with the yard when the snow stops…”
Vance gazed into her, his stare almost painful. He sighed heavily, took the branch-saw from her grasp, and tossed it onto the couch.
Then—he pulled his daughter into a close, warm embrace, hugging her tightly.
Arkus quietly walked away, hoping to give them a moment alone.
Ariella blinked, returning her father’s hug. She then stepped back, giving him a look.
“Dad,” she said softly. “Are you seriously worried about—?”
“No.” Vance shook his head. “No, I just don’t like… seeing that thing. I just don’t…”
“Okay, okay.” Ariella pulled him into another embrace, glimpsing up at him. “We can just call someone else to come cut the branches down. It doesn’t matter…”
Vance sighed again, shifting her bangs aside and flashing a small half-smile. “Good. Then you can set that branch-saw on fire.”
Ariella laughed breathlessly, Vance turning to leave the room. As he did—Julian entered the living room next, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small jewelry box. He grasped Ariella’s hand and gently placed it into her palm.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“Open it,” Julian replied.
Ariella opened the tiny box, pulling out a long silver necklace, a sparkling cross hanging from it.
“That was my mother’s before she passed,” Julian told her sincerely. “She was the only family I had, and you’ve looked after me as much as she did. Hell, I… I wouldn’t be here without you.”
“Oh my God, Julian…” Ariella murmured, feeling truly touched. “You don’t have to…”
“I really, really want to,” Julian told her firmly. “I want you to have it. Merry Christmas.”
Ariella stared into him profoundly, thinking of nothing to say. So, she gently wrapped her arms around him and embraced him tightly, Julian smiling and graciously returning the hug. When the two of them separated—Arkus was standing right beside them, eyeballing the silver necklace and gawking at Julian in disbelief.
“Oh—oh, well that’s nice, pastor man,” Arkus griped and nodded. “A silver necklace? Real silver? Are you tryinna show me up? I’m her boyfriend! How am I supposed to top that present?! Now I’m gonna have to buy her a damn car or something.”
Ariella and Julian both laughed at him.
“Don’t you have a livestream to watch?” Julian asked.
“OH! That’s right!” Arkus yelled, whipping around and rushing back toward his laptop.
Julian gave Ariella a final smile before following Arkus into the kitchen.
Ariella smirked, draping the necklace around her neck and fastening it on. She sat on the couch, gazing into the kitchen and smiling at everyone around the table, fidgeting with her necklace until she managed to fix it on properly.
Rodney walked into the living room and sank into the couch beside her, sighing and leaning forward. He turned his head, giving her a thoughtful sort of stare.
Ariella met his eyes, still smiling. “What’s up, Grandpa?”
Rodney let out a breathless laugh, his small, knowing smirk seeming to grow. “Well… I got you something you’re gonna like.”
“Oh, man… you guys are gonna have to stop,” Ariella snickered. “I’m getting spoiled.”
“No, honey… you deserve all this and far more,” Rodney said honestly, gently patting her on the back.
Ariella sighed, her smile drifting away as she gazed into the kitchen again. “I doubt it.”
Rodney squinted at her. “Why?”
Ariella hesitated. “You… you know why.”
Rodney slowly gnawed his bottom lip, pausing and releasing a deep cloud of breath.
“Let me ask you something,” Rodney said, eyeing her more intently and hushing his tone. “Do you ever think about doing that again?”
“No,” Ariella replied truthfully.
“Do you want to do it again?”
“No…”
“Did you enjoy doing it?”
“No… it just felt necessary. And it… it made me feel sick after…”
“Then look at me.” Rodney placed a firm hand on her shoulder, meeting her eyes again and giving her a deep, sincere stare. “You are not like my son.”
Ariella returned his stare, sighing heavily.
“You weren’t hunting people down out of hatred—you were just doing something that needed to be done, making sure you and everyone around you stayed safe from someone who was insistently pursuing all of you,” Rodney explained. “You were just doing what was necessary at the time, same as the rest of us were.”
Ariella frowned, gazing at him with uncertainty. “Is that why I… don’t… regret it?”
“Absolutely,” Rodney assured. “I don’t regret making up my mind to kill Harley all those years ago for the same reason you don’t regret what happened to Zane. Both of them were dangerous , and stopping them was necessary . End of story.”
“Well… you were worried,” Ariella mumbled. “You thought I’d turn out like him.”
Rodney stared at her for a moment, his expression softening. Seconds later, he gave her a warm smile. “Well… I never should’ve worried. You actually have your head on straight… and you have a much better father than he did, too.”
“Don’t say that,” Ariella muttered sadly.
“Ariella,” Rodney said solemnly, slowly clasping her hand. “I am proud of you… and I’m proud of your father. You do what you do because it needs to be done… and you got that from Vance, not from Harley. I see all the potential in the world in your eyes. Not to mention, you’re quick as a whip, you’re compassionate to the core, and you literally saved my life at one point, whereas Harley was the one trying to end it. Now, call me crazy, but… I think that makes you pretty damn different from him.”
Ariella paused, feeling a bit of reassurance. She returned his smile, sliding her hand over his.
“I got more from you than I did him,” Ariella said. “I must have… or I’d be a lot worse.”
Rodney wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder and releasing a long, contented breath, savoring the embrace of the granddaughter he once thought lost forever.
“I’m so happy,” he whispered. “Never thought I’d have a family again…”
“Yeah, well… get used to it,” Ariella smirked, leaning back and smacking his arm. “Old man.”
“Ha-ha,” Rodney griped with a laugh. “Don’t think you’re too old for me to tan your hide, young lady.”
Ariella sniggered, Rodney slowly reaching his feet and patting her on the head. “Well… c’mon. I wanna eat while I can before I have to make the long drive home.”
“What? No way,” Ariella griped, standing and following him toward the kitchen. “You’re not going home. You’re staying here tonight. The roads are all iced over. Are you crazy?”
Rodney suddenly stopped, narrowing his eyes at her and smirking coyly.
Ariella shot him a look. “What?”
“That,” Rodney said, pointing at her. “That’s you being the opposite of Harley, right there.”
Ariella breathed out a laugh, nodding in agreement and feeling more reassured than ever.
“Oh, and… by the way… for the record,” Rodney said softly, approaching her again. “My Christmas present to you is really gonna blow your mind.”
Ariella perked her brow at him. “Yeah…?”
Rodney smiled and nodded. “The house is gone… and the hunting cabins are going under heavy reconstruction. I figured there were too many bad memories attached to the old house, so… I’m gonna make some new ones out there. I’ve got no reason to avoid living on that property now. Plus, y’know… you’re gonna need your own home sometime here soon.”
Ariella stared at him in disbelief. “Are you seriously giving me…?”
Rodney nodded again, his smile growing. “Three hunting cabins, three homes. And, if Vance ever wanted to retire out in the country… well, now he can. Maybe he can leave this house to Bill and Max. And us… we can all live as a family out there someday. New homes, new start, and we’ll all finally be together. Granted, that’s just my optimistic hope, but…”
“Rodney, I love you,” Ariella said genuinely, roping him into another close hug.
Rodney smiled contently, embracing her and patting her on the back.
The two of them then rejoined everyone else in the kitchen, seating themselves around the table while Arkus tinkered with the laptop.
“Scotty—will you put that damn thing away?” Rodney griped. “This is family time.”
“Ughk—you sound so old right now,” Arkus scoffed, turning the laptop to face everyone else. “Look. Dontcha wanna see Jax for Christmas?”
Everyone stared at the laptop as a livestreaming website opened up on the screen. Seconds later, the website showed the gameplay of a first-person shooter game, and the upper-left corner of the screen showed a face-cam of Jaxson while he played, wearing his feathered hat, three adult family members standing around him and eyeing his computer oddly. The people surrounding Jaxson were his parents and grandmother—his father the spitting image of him, only grislier with a thick black beard, his mother slender with the same shiny dark eyes he had. His grandmother was a short and plump woman, wearing egg-shaped spectacles and a Santa hat, repeatedly adjusting her glasses as she squinted strangely at Jaxson’s gameplay. Along the right side of the livestream was a rapidly-moving chatroom, where all the JaxMax fans were typing messages to him at a fast pace.
“Okay… I see Jax,” Rodney muttered. “But, ah… what exactly are we lookin’ at, here?”
“It’s a livestream! ” Arkus replied. “Livestreaming is his new thing, and he’s bringing in a hellova lot of money at it. He spends a lot more time on Twitch now. Look—this part is his current gameplay, this part is the face-cam showing him and his family in their hotel room, and this is the chat on the side. He’s broadcasting live from his vacation with his family.”
“Oh my God,” Ariella grinned. “Look how confused his grandma is. That’s adorable…”
“I’m confused, too,” Rodney mumbled. “Can he see us?”
Arkus shot him a baffled look, Lumis and Julian both covering their mouths and stifling a sudden mad desire to laugh.
“ No , he can’t see us,” Arkus exhaled incredibly. “It’s a livestream . Meaning—it is a live feed of what he’s doing right now. It’s not a bloody Discord call .”
“Hey—type in the chat!” Max suggested. “Tell him we’re watching!”
Arkus nodded and began to type while the others watched the livestream silently for a moment.
“Ohh!” Jaxson’s grandmother groaned in the face-cam, her brow bone wrinkling as she gave his game a disturbed look. “Jaxson… honey … what is wrong with you…?”
“What?!” Jaxson grumped, trying to survive a zombie onslaught and clearly feeling distracted. “Grandma—they’re just zombies. It doesn’t matter if I kill them.”
“Nooo, you shot that woman out on the street!” his grandmother complained. “You shot a little old black woman! She didn’t do nothin’ to you! She was just shopping …!”
“Well, I didn’t mean to!” Jaxson proclaimed. “She was in the freaking way! God …!”
“Ooo,” Jaxson’s father winced, reeling back and shaking his head. “You’re taking fire in your face, son. You might wanna find cover.”
“Jax,” his mother said, leaning off-screen. “Arkus just popped up in the chat. He says the whole gang’s watching from Texas.”
Jaxson raised his brows, pausing the game and straightening up.
He inhaled deeply and faced the camera fully—and now, it appeared as if he was meeting eyes with everyone inside the Hunter-Callaghan home.
“All right, my dear followers—on this special edition Christmas livestream, I need to give a shoutout to my other family,” Jaxson stated. “Because the Gates Mill Gate Keepers are watching from their holiday dinner in Texas, and I haven’t publicly acknowledged the reason the podcast stopped until now. I’ve kinda been waiting until I felt like I could… talk about it. I know you’ve all been wondering why the impromptu Gate Keepers episode ended up being the final one with no warning, so… now, I’d like to finally tell you guys why. I’m not gonna divulge everything—but the short version is, someone we love ended up dying in the conflicts we faced around Halloween time, and it was someone who was a deep member of the podcast family… someone you all loved to hear, and someone I… someone we all loved. Naturally, we didn’t feel right continuing a podcast on such a grim topic after everything we went through… so, JaxMax community, there’s your answer. That’s why the Gates Mill Gate Keepers Podcast came to an end, and I’m sorry, but it’s never coming back. Now, with that said—that doesn’t mean I won’t start another podcast with my friends sometime later down the road, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, I hope you enjoy my streams and my special family appearances, as you can see here tonight—and to my other family in Texas, I have this to say.”
Everyone at the table fell silent.
On the laptop screen, the JaxMax fans in the chat seemed to be slowing to a stop out of respect, and Jaxson enlarged his face-cam to take over his entire stream, the gameplay no longer in view. Then, he leaned closer to the camera, his expression uncharacteristically serious.
“I love you guys,” Jaxson said with a sigh. “And I couldn’t have dealt with the loss if not for all of you. Ari, Arkus, Julian, Dangerfield, Vance, Lumis, and Max—the times I spent around you guys were a fucking Godsend, and I’m not just saying that. I really couldn’t have coped without all of you guys, and I know it was hard on you, too… so I’m glad we could all be there for each other. We’re never gonna forget the purpose we found as the Gates Mill Gate Keepers, and I’m damn grateful for the family that came from it. So… thank you, and merry Christmas.”
Ariella and Arkus sat side by side, facing the laptop and smiling at their friend, the two of them holding hands and trading glimpses. Lumis smirked and nodded, Julian and Rodney smiling peacefully at the screen as well.
“Now—let’s get this show back on the road, kids,” Jaxson grinned, adjusting his hat fancifully and returning his face-cam to its small size in the upper-left corner.
The moment he unpaused the game—a zombie lunged at him abruptly, and Jaxson jumped in his seat. “Fucking— sweet zombie Jesus !”
Everyone laughed, turning to the table and preparing to eat while Jaxson’s livestream played on the side for their viewing pleasure.
“Speaking of you and Jaxson,” Lumis said, narrowing his eyes at Arkus. “Do you and him have any more court dates lined up?”
“Nope,” Arkus beamed. “It’s all said and done now. David and Richard are locked up… and they determined the gunshot I fired at Richard was self-defense. Which is true. Mostly. Who cares… I just feel happy and lucky. Really can’t believe nobody ever asked about the car…”
Ariella giggled and nuzzled into Arkus’s side, embracing him sideways as Max hurriedly began making his plate, eager to start eating.
While everyone began trading conversation, periodically laughing at something funny on Jaxson’s stream—Lumis glanced to the side, only just realizing that Vance was no longer in his chair. He leaned back, twisting around in his seat and squinting down the hall—where he saw that the door of the storage room was now standing open, light bleeding out from inside.
Sighing, Lumis quietly excused himself and meandered down the hall.
He reached the storage room, leaning on the doorway and staring inside, where—Vance was seated on one of the cots, two boxes, several loose pictures, and random papers scattered about all around him. He was staring directly downward, his expression unreadable as he scanned over the photo album in his lap.
Lumis glanced over at the closet, seeing that much of Vance’s old family belongings had been taken out and opened, which was something he was certain that Vance had never done before. This room had most of his life packed away in it for many years, and he’d never bothered going through any of it until now.
Lumis then sauntered into the room and eyed the photo album Vance held. The pictures showed various images of the Hunter-Callaghan family from long ago, a younger Rodney standing alongside Melinda, Sarah, and Victor, Rodney and Victor posing beside a strung-up buck they’d hunted, and the tiny Vance and Harley making goofy poses in front of them. Another picture showed Rodney and Melinda with the boys at a carnival, the neon lights in the background as Vance and Harley smiled at the camera before boarding a ride. The third picture was a darker one, taken on the cusp of twilight, showing the fireworks of Boomsday, where Vance and Harley were both gazing up at the sky and nibbling on cotton candy…
Lumis let out a deep sigh, sitting beside him and skimming over the pictures in silence for a few seconds. “You… ah… what’re you gonna do with those?”
Vance glanced over at him, then down at his lap again.
Lumis observed him curiously.
Vance was transfixed on the pictures, hesitant to turn each page, seeming to lose himself in every image he saw.
“No headaches anymore,” Lumis guessed, Vance nodding quietly in response.
There was another moment of silence, the detective running a hand down his face, wondering what he ought to say.
“Penny for your thoughts?” he uttered moments later.
Vance didn’t reply right away, as he didn’t understand the thoughts himself. After a moment of pondering, he simply sighed and shrugged.
“I really don’t know,” he said softly. “I don’t regret it. It needed to happen. But…”
He slowly turned the next page, seeing a large image of himself at age nineteen, standing alongside Harley and Rodney at the airport, just before his departure to Iraq.
“If I stayed,” Vance murmured grimly. “If I stayed here, then he might’ve…”
“Oh God, Vance… don’t go down that road,” Lumis advised. “He made his choices, and to be frank, his choices were pretty drastic. I don’t think you staying here would’ve made much of a difference, to be honest.”
Vance sighed, glaring down at the photo and slowly shaking his head. “I know it doesn’t make sense to dwell on. I know it’s pointless to dwell on. But… I still can’t help but think… if I never ran up and talked to him that day, then… none of this would’ve…”
“Vance,” Lumis said straightly. “If you never met Harley, and if you never got close to that family… then you would’ve been completely on your own when your parents died, and God knows you wouldn’t have found your daughter. Hell, she might not have even been born. It’s a domino effect. Yes, some bad things came of it… but a lot of good did, too. You can’t control where all the dominos fall regardless of what you ever choose to do. You ended up with a family. Ari ended up with a father and a grandfather instead of just growing up in foster homes, and not to mention… if I didn’t meet you the night you came home, then there’d probably be a lot more criminals running free, because you and I never would’ve been partners. Now, tell me, honestly… would you trade all of that just for the sake of the Cutthroat Killer?”
Vance stared at him for a moment.
“No,” he said honestly, his eyes locked on the image of Harley. “That’s why I killed him.”
“You killed him because he gave you no choice ,” Lumis said flatly. “And he knew damn well what he was doing, too. He knew eighteen years ago, and he knew right up to the end. His own damn choices landed him where he ended up. Nobody else’s.”
Vance turned to him, reading his severe expression and suddenly coming to the same conclusion. Lumis was absolutely right; Harley attacked him, forcing him to pull the trigger. In fact, Vance’s final action in Iraq was much the same. The people he killed on that fateful day—those people gave him no alternatives, either. They might not have done it intentionally, but their actions gave Vance no choice but to open fire. Otherwise, all the children in that building would’ve been killed or severely wounded when the explosion occurred and the building came down over them. And the night he busted into the Grant household, only to find the insane Eliza Grant preparing to kill Ariella—he shot and killed her without hesitation. Eliza gave him no choice, either; if Vance hadn’t stormed into the house and took swift action that night, then Ariella would’ve been killed before her ninth birthday.
While his actions were often grim, they were solidly and undeniably necessary.
Vance nodded somberly, turning the page and finding a much older image—one of his father in his military uniform just after Vietnam. He stared downward, meeting his father’s eyes, eyes darker than his own, though the rest of him looked practically identical to him. He couldn’t fathom how he’d ever forgotten someone who made such a heavy impact on him, or that he never bothered trying to remember until now.
“He’d be damn proud,” Lumis told him. “I’m not gonna call you a superhero like the whole town’s been doing, but you’re definitely the closest thing to a hero that’s remotely possible in the real world. Nobody in my precinct, the Texas Rangers, or any other precincts I’ve worked with have ever had the resolve that you have. All the people I know in heroic professions—they don’t have shit worth of resolve compared to you. Trust me.”
Vance turned to him again.
Lumis laughed. “Why do you think I worked with you for so long? Do you think I would’ve dragged a PI around for all of my cases if you weren’t right for the job? Do you have any idea how unorthodox this is?”
“I didn’t think that mattered,” Vance mumbled truthfully. “Because it worked to get the job done, and that’s what mattered…”
“And that—right there—is exactly why you need to stop kicking yourself,” Lumis told him forwardly. “All you ever cared about, from start to finish, is doing the right thing, regardless of what came attached. End of story.”
Vance nodded quietly, closing the photo album and staring down at its leathery cover. “I know… but with Harley, it just… bothers me more.”
“Yeah, well… you’d be heartless if it didn’t,” Lumis admitted. “The guy was your brother at one point. But Vance, listen to me when I tell you this. He wasn’t your brother anymore when you pulled the trigger. Harley made his choice the moment he decided to kill Alison Hunter—and even he knew that he wasn’t himself anymore after that day. That’s why he put himself on his board of the dead. He changed into someone else entirely. Harley Hunter died the day the Cutthroat Killer was born. The kid in this book,” he patted the photo album. “ That was your brother. Not the Cutthroat Killer.”
Vance returned his intense stare, then looked away, nodding with understanding.
“And… I’d also like to add that I think I’ve filled the shoes of the ‘brother from another mother’ category,” Lumis smirked. “You wouldn’t be Max’s weird-ass uncle otherwise.”
Vance chuckled and nodded, placing the book aside and reaching his feet. “I’m hungry…”
“Oh… yeah… me too,” the detective replied.
Lumis then reached his feet and headed for the door. Just when Vance was about to stand and join him—he stopped and spotted Ariella lingering in the doorway. Lumis squeezed past her, gave them a brief glimpse, and shuffled off down the hall, leaving the father and daughter alone in the storage room.
Ariella approached her father, staring down and surveying all the loose photos and albums lying scattered about around him.
“I was just…” Vance uttered.
“You know what I want?” Ariella said, sitting beside him. “Sometime after dinner, or sometime tomorrow… me, you, and Rodney should just stay in this room and talk.”
Vance gave her a questioning look.
Ariella smirked. “I have always… always wanted to know about the family. We should go through all this stuff, and you guys can tell me everything about everything.”
Vance stared at her, saying nothing.
“You know what else I want?” Ariella smiled. “I want our family vacations to be more than just us from now on. Rodney and Arkus should come. And Julian, too. And Jaxson, whenever his own family isn’t dragging him off somewhere. Ooo—you think Lumis and Max would wanna go? Oh! You think everybody would wanna go to the beach next summer?!”
Vance paused, revealing a faint, contented smile. “I think we all would.”
Ariella beamed at him, and he draped an arm around her, pulling her into a sideways hug.
The two of them were quiet for a moment.
“Get rid of that damn saw,” Vance muttered.
Ariella blinked, straightening up and meeting his eyes.
He stared at her for a few seconds, and she spotted a hint of concern amidst his visage.
The two of them hadn’t spoken very much about the event that took place on Halloween. They talked about Rodney and Harley numerous times, and Ariella went out of her way to comfort her father after the difficult thing he was forced to do, but they rarely ever addressed the grisly event involving Zane Jackson.
As far as the rest of the world knew, Harley Hunter was the one who killed Zane—and only a select few people knew better. Her father and her grandfather witnessed firsthand what Ariella had done—and Arkus, Jaxson, Julian, and Lumis knew as well—but the event was a tightly-knit secret held closely by the Hunter-Callaghan family and the remnants of the Gates Mill Gate Keepers. It was a deep secret, an act of protection for Ariella’s sake—and even Harley Hunter helped to cover up her actions. It was perhaps the only thing that everyone involved had in common—the desire to protect Ariella from the consequences of killing Zane Jackson. Officially, Harley was the man who murdered Zane on Halloween—and nobody in the world could ever prove otherwise now.
And, right this moment—as she read the deep dismay etched onto her father’s face—Ariella knew for certain that the murder of Zane was the very thing dominating his mind now.
Sighing, she wrapped her arm around him, returning to the sideways hug and resting gingerly on his collarbone. Then, she took a deep breath and decided to ask a fairly difficult question.
“How do you feel about… killing… Harley?”
Vance stroked her arm, pondering on his discussion with Lumis. “Just that it was necessary.”
“Okay… well… exactly,” Ariella stated. “Zane used to be my friend, too… but… him dying was also just… necessary. It hurts, and it sucks, and it makes you sad, and it makes you feel sick… but… that’s it. It’s not something I feel guilty about… and it’s not something I enjoy, either. It was just necessary… and that’s all it was. That’s all it was.”
Vance nodded quietly.
“I just didn’t feel safe with him alive,” Ariella murmured gravely. “Because I wasn’t safe… none of us were. But now, we are. So… that’s… that’s all that matters to me. I don’t hate the world, and I’m not gonna go around attacking it like Harley did. I understand why he broke, and why he went crazy… but I’m not like that, and I don’t feel that, and I’m just… I’m just not that. I’m a lot more like you than I am him. I just…”
“Did what was necessary,” Vance disclosed.
Ariella nodded. “Yeah. Just like you do.”
Vance let out a dry laugh, tightening his grasp on her.
“No… I know you’re not a rampaging serial killer,” he remarked. “You love people too much.”
“Yeah,” Ariella agreed. “So stop worrying.”
“Okay… Demonslayer.” Vance kissed her on the forehead. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” Ariella said softly.
They both straightened out, standing and stretching before spinning around and facing the doorway. Vance gave one last glance into his room containing the past, flipping the lights off and marching away to join his family for Christmas dinner.
“Yaaaaaay!” Arkus rejoiced, giving them both a round of applause as they returned to the room. “Aaand they’re back! Now we can eat!”
“Would anyone mind me saying a prayer first?” Julian asked.
“I wanna help!” Max exclaimed. “Momma used to have me say grace for dinner.”
Vance retook his seat beside Lumis, and everyone joined hands, Julian and Max saying a brief prayer before the meal. Ariella was the only one not yet seated, as she was pulling out pitchers of juice and tea from the fridge, placing them around the table for everyone to enjoy. The others were having a hard time trying to keep a straight face during the prayer, as Jaxson’s livestream was still playing, and his frantic cries at his video game’s jumpscares were echoing throughout the room.
After placing the pitchers down, Ariella let out a comfortable breath, leaning against the fridge and crossing her arms, her eyes shifting from person to person and her heart feeling warmer than ever. How wonderfully bizarre it was—to live as a child unwanted, thoroughly convinced that she’d never have a family, only to end up with the greatest family she could’ve ever imagined.
Her gaze moved to Vance, then Rodney, then Arkus, then Julian, then Lumis, then Max, then the image of Jaxson on the laptop. A small, sincere smile formed as she felt the strangest sense of serenity overcome her.
The adventure came with horrific hardships and terrible loss, trials and traumas that most people could scarcely imagine—but somehow, despite all the awful things that took place, Ariella couldn’t help but feel at peace with the way things turned out in the aftermath, gazing upon her loved ones and feeling grateful for all the dominos that had fallen, resulting in this fantastic family, and even her very existence—so many dominos, falling for so long, ever since the early 1980s when it all began—when Vance Callaghan encountered his first fateful meeting with Harley Hunter, and a powerful new family of determined, impassioned, and iron-willed hunters spanning generations came to be.
The End