Snow Storm by Davidson King

Author:Davidson King
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2019-03-19T16:00:00+00:00

Morning did come, and when I was escorted into the dining room, Simon wasn’t there, and I knew by the angry looks, he did, in fact, get away. Smugly, I sat and sipped my coffee.

“You’re looking better this morning,” Atticus said as he bit into what looked like a cherry scone.

“I’m feeling better.”

I wanted to question him about what I’d overheard, but the room had several men in it and I knew if I was going to have any luck understanding what was happening with him and making him vulnerable, they had to clear out.

“Atticus,” I began, and he peered over his mug. “I know this may be a bold request, but I’d like to speak with you privately.”

His eyes roamed the room, and I was relieved when he gestured for them to leave and no fuss was made.

“What is it, Christopher? Another failed attempt to have me release you?”

“No. I think it’s only fair you explain your hatred for my mother.” Atticus narrowed his eyes, and I could tell he wanted to rip into me. “I overheard you and Vincent last night. You speak of a woman I don’t know. My mother wasn’t cruel like you say.”

Atticus’ gaze was on his mug, there was a longing there, one I wasn’t sure what for. When he lifted his eyes, the story began.

“You know the story of Samson and Delilah, Christopher?”

“I do.”

“My father was Samson. He was amazing. Strong, powerful, loved. He was always happiest when he was around your mother.” He raised his brows. “She’s the Delilah in this story, in case you were wondering.”

“Your general anger toward her convinced me of that.”

He nodded and continued. “You were a baby when I first met you. Always cooing and being all happy. I adored you. Your father wasn’t around very much, but he left your mother, you, your sister, and some others there. We played as much as a baby could play. Every year, you’d come and as you got a little older, I thought you got cooler.” He spoke about memories I couldn’t place, and he did so with reverence.

“One day, you left. I remember asking your parents if I could come visit you and your mom promising me. But it never happened, and you never returned.”

“So, because my mother broke her promise, you’re hell-bent on murder?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, it wasn’t until many years later. I watched my father slowly deteriorate. My mother left, and we went from riches to rags. I never understood why. Then after he passed, I went through all his belongings. That was when I discovered the betrayal your mom had caused.”

“Tell me.” I had to understand. It wouldn’t save Atticus from what he’d done, taking Simon and terrifying him, there was no forgiveness for that. But he had a piece of my family I wanted to know.

“He loved your mother. They sent love letters for years. And my father wrote in a journal. Every time your mother was here, he flourished. He spoke of her beauty and love.

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