Shakily, Rose attempted to button up her coat while Jack found anything else that she might find useful to pack. By now, Cal would have noticed that she had been gone a while and would probably come looking for her. Her mind couldn’t focus on anything other than leaving the house and never returning.
“That’s everything.” She turned to Jack, tears in her eyes, not from sadness, but from worry.
“Right. Come on, darling. Let me go first down the stairs in case the bastard is here.”
Rose hoped he wasn’t with all of her heart. She wanted things to go smoothly. Jack carried her small bag and she held his hand shakily as they descended the four flights of stairs to the ground floor. Trudy was waiting for them at the foot of the stairs. She had put them some scraps of food together from dinner the evening before. It wasn’t much, but they would be hungry on their way. Rose stopped in front of Trudy and hugged her tightly. She wouldn’t have been able to do any of this if it wasn’t for her.
“Be gone, Miss. Mr. Hockley could be home at any moment.” Trudy hurried her, but seconds later, the front door opened and Cal’s voice could be heard. Rose’s eyes widened in fear and Jack felt her grip his hand more tightly, but he himself wasn’t scared of him at all.
“Oh, no,” she whispered.
Trudy pointed to the back door, but it was too late Cal entered the hallway with Lovejoy, a gun in his hand. He eyed Jack up and down, knowing exactly who he was.
“So, Dawson, we finally meet.”
Jack watched the man with contempt and hatred, knowing exactly what he would like to do to him, but he had to remain calm for Rose’s sake. He had a gun, which showed how much of a coward he was. He needed a weapon to show how powerful he was.
“Cal, please. Just…” Rose began, but Cal pointed his gun at her.
“Shut up!” he boomed. Rose backed into Jack, feeling her heart pound. She was probably going to die here and now. “Now, what right do you have, coming here into my home and taking my fiancée?” Cal pointed the gun at Jack. “You interrupted the gala, you brainwashed my maid, and now you think it’s all right to take my fiancée?”
Jack had had enough. He couldn’t take this anymore. The anger inside of him boiled over. Rose was his wife. They had married for love, and he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. He wouldn’t let this bastard hurt her anymore. Jack lunged forward, knocking the gun out of Cal’s hand. The smug look was soon wiped off of his face.
Rose screamed, not wanting Cal to hurt Jack, although she knew that Jack could fight. In the days in Paris in the bar, he had knocked out men three times the size of Cal, but he was rusty now and missed a couple of punches. Jack felt the blood trickle from his nose from Cal’s fist. Again he lunged for him, knocking him into the dining room and throwing him over the table. Rose screamed at Jack to stop, but Lovejoy dragged her back from the dining room.
Cal held Jack against the wall by his throat. Jack could only move his eyes. He saw Rose screaming at Cal not to hurt him. Trudy stood crying, while Lovejoy simply stood with his arms crossed, smiling smugly, as if he was enjoying this. He could feel his breaths becoming shorter and shorter, and in front of him, with his hands around his throat, he saw Cal.
From somewhere, he got the strength. He lifted his foot, kicking Cal in the stomach and knocking the wind from him. The blow sent him flying backwards against the wall, knocking the large gold mirror down. It smashed over his shoulders and cut his arms as it fell. Jack could taste blood, but he wouldn’t give up yet.
Cal came for him, but this time he held his gun. Jack tried to take the gun from his hand. Rose and Trudy screamed at them to stop, but Cal wouldn’t give up—he would kill Jack if he had to.
Suddenly, the gun went off. Rose screamed, closing her eyes. Both Jack and Cal stood in shock at what had happened. Their vision grew blurry before, seconds later, Cal fell to the floor, a bullet hole in his chest.
For a few seconds, no one understood what happened. Jack and Cal had been wrestling when Cal had pointed the gun towards Jack, or so he thought, and had pulled the trigger, killing himself instead. Jack stood up straight, panicking. He had never wanted this to happen.
“You son of a bitch!” Lovejoy lunged towards Jack and pointed his gun at his head.
“No! Don’t! Let him go! Please!” Rose screamed. She fell on her knees. Trudy attempted to pick her up, but couldn’t. “Please, let him go! He didn’t kill him!”
Jack tried to break free from Lovejoy, but it was no use. He had met his match with Lovejoy. He was an ex-Pinkerton and an ex-police officer. “If you don’t stop moving, I’m going to blow your brains out now!” Lovejoy warned. “As for you, young lady, shut the fuck up!” he yelled at Rose.
She stopped screaming. Instead, she sat crying, saying a silent prayer. Jack felt the tears fall from his eyes as he saw his wife in anguish.
Quick footsteps sounded and, seconds later, Nathan Hockley and Ruth came into the room. Nathan looked around the room. The dining table was demolished, the mirror was smashed, and there was blood on the walls and carpet. In the center of the room, his eldest son, Caledon, lay in a pool of his own blood. His dark eyes traveled to Lovejoy, holding the gun to Jack’s head, but he showed no emotion at all. Ruth felt sick at seeing Cal lying dead. She came to her daughter and attempted to comfort her.
“Who did this?” Ruth immediately looked at Jack with her sharp gaze. “Who the hell are you?”
Rose found her voice and attempted to stand up. “This is my husband, Jack. Cal and Jack were fighting and Cal pulled the trigger on himself.”
“Shut up!” Lovejoy yelled at Rose. “I saw this happen. Mr. Hockley, it was this man who shot your son.”
Nathan pulled out a gun. Lovejoy smiled, freeing Jack from his grip, thinking that Nathan would want the satisfaction of shooting his son’s killer himself. Jack closed his eyes quickly, expecting to be dead within seconds, until a shot was fired and he felt nothing—no pain, no trickling of blood. He opened his eyes to see the gun smoking and Lovejoy’s body on the floor.
“Fuck!” he muttered, seeing Nathan standing before him with a smile on his face. Coolly, he put the gun back inside his jacket.
Jack ran to Rose. She cried hysterically in his arms. Ruth watched as he comforted her daughter better than she ever could.
Nathan’s youngest son, Ethan, came into the room. He saw the blood and the state of everything. “Who did this?” he asked his father calmly.
Nathan raised his eyebrows and looked around at the two dead bodies. “Caledon tried to shoot young Miss DeWitt Bukater’s husband, but he pulled the trigger on himself. I shot Lovejoy, the old damned fool.”
Ethan turned to Rose, who stood with Jack. He thought he had seen Jack at the gala. “Father, I think we should find someone to collect the bodies.”
“Of course. You go, son. I think I’ll have a cigar and brandy in the reading room.”
Jack couldn’t believe the turn of events. Why had Nathan killed Lovejoy? Why wasn’t he upset about his own son?
Ruth put her arm around Rose and led her out of the room. Rose felt as though she would be sick. When she looked back at the bodies, she heaved. Jack held her hair back. The week’s events had been so complicated, confusing, and downright surreal that it was all too much for Rose. She clung to Jack as though her life depended on it.
Nathan ordered Trudy to find a mop to clean up Rose’s vomit and asked Ruth, Jack, and Rose to sit with him in the drawing room. It was a large room with a long, dark oak table and high ceiling. A liquor cabinet stood to the left of the table. Nathan was a small man, around five foot seven, but was obviously powerful. He lit a cigar as he poured out several brandies, handing them to Jack, Rose, and Ruth.
“Now, then, what the hell happened back there?” He touched his head, feeling it start to pound. “I know this young man is married to Rose, but I thought he was dead.”
Jack cleared his throat, unsure of whether to speak up or not, but he did. “Sir, I wasn’t dead. Rose couldn’t find my name on the list of the Titanic’s survivors. I found her after seeing the engagement announcement in the paper and came here right away.”
Nathan nodded, taking in the information. “Hmm…my son was quite a nasty piece of work, young Jack. Taking him on was very brave.”
Jack frowned a little. Shouldn’t he be angry with him? Phoning the police, perhaps? Jack was involved in Cal’s death. “I had to protect my wife,” Jack told him calmly. Rose rested her head against Jack, obviously still in shock.
“That is quite right, Jack. A man isn’t quite a man unless he protects the ones he loves.” Nathan looked at Ruth. She turned to her daughter. “You see, Jack, my son, well…he was bad. He was a murderer and I heard somewhere that he raped a young woman.”
Rose sat upright, hoping that it wasn’t Maria that Cal had laid his hands on. “If you knew all of this, then why let my daughter become involved with him?” Ruth stood. She couldn’t believe that so much information had been hidden from her.
“Because his comeuppance would have come sooner or later. He wouldn’t have hurt Rose in any way, because I know that he did actually love her in his own way.” Nathan knocked back the remainder of his brandy.
Ethan Hockley entered the room breathlessly. “I found someone to take care of the bodies, Father. They will be here soon.”
“Good man. Now, you go back to the gala, find your wife, and take her home. It is rather late and I have business to attend to.” Nathan turned to Jack and Rose. “You two should leave town tonight. I’ll have a car take you to the station and get you one-way tickets somewhere, because after tonight, I think you need it.”
Rose closed her eyes. She felt positively numb. She couldn’t wait to leave the house, to leave everything. The day had been one of the best and one of worst of her life.
“Come on, Rose. Let’s take the good man up on his offer,” Jack urged her.
Nathan held out his hand to Jack, and just like gentlemen, they shook hands. “Take your wife far away from here and forget the day ever happened. The world is now a better place for you. Caledon Hockley is dead.”
*****
Minutes later, a car arrived in front of the mansion. Jack put Rose’s bag in the trunk of the car. Rose absentmindedly clung to Jack as she walked down the steps. It was dark outside and rather late, but they hoped to catch the last train heading for Santa Monica.
Ruth touched Rose’s face gently and didn’t know what to say to her, but tears shone in her eyes.
“I do hope you are happy, Rose.”
Rose did nothing but hug her mother. Even after everything that had happened, she couldn’t blame her. At the end of the day, she was still her mother. “I love you,” she told her quietly.
“And I love you, my baby girl.” Ruth kissed her daughter’s cheek. “Your father would be so proud of you.”
Rose felt her breath catch in her throat. Her mother hadn’t mentioned her father since his death. Ruth turned to Jack, unsure of what to say. She had known this man an hour or so, but had seen the love he had for her daughter.
“Mr. Dawson, take good care of my young daughter,” she told him. They shook hands.
Nathan stood at the front door of the mansion. He simply raised his hand, which was holding a brandy. Jack climbed into the car, something he wasn’t used to, but was grateful for. He was tired and in shock from the day’s events, but from here on out, it could only get better.
Trudy came running down the front steps, calling Rose’s name. Rose turned and hugged her young maid, who had done everything for her in the last few days.
“You forgot these.” Trudy held up Rose’s wedding and engagement rings, which she had removed that evening for Cal’s ring.
“Thank you so much…for everything.” They hugged one last time and Rose climbed into the car, putting the rings back on her finger…where they belonged.