The Silencer

by RC Boldt

  The Vice President eyes me with interest. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting.”

  “This is Dr. Kennedy Alexandre. Kennedy, this is Mr. Vice President.”

  “It’s lovely to meet you, sir.” I hold his eyes, waiting for a sign of recognition to strike him, but it never happens.

  “The pleasure’s all mine,” he says before his features turn somber. “I wanted to express my sympathy to both of you. I heard the investigation was called off.” He shakes his head, disappointment creasing between his brows. “With everything that happened with the mayor, I suppose it’s for the best.”

  My spine stiffens at his words. For the best?

  Landon’s polite smile strains at the edges, and the sight of it eases some of my tension, knowing he feels similarly.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll let you both mingle.” The Vice President nods at us, stepping back. “Please help yourself to the food. The bar is set up in the sitting room. Enjoy yourselves.” With those parting words, he gets swallowed up by guests clamoring for his attention.

  Heaving out a slow breath, I turn to Landon, but his attention remains on the man. “Want to grab a drink?” I’m sorely tempted to partake in a strong one, but I won’t. I can’t afford to fuck this up tonight.

  Landon’s eyes snap to mine, and it takes a moment for the shadows to subside. His slow smile floods me with warmth. “Sure.”

  Four hours and countless conversations later, I’m still eagerly awaiting my opening.

  The amount of guests has thinned due to it nearing midnight. Landon and I have been separated by others seeking to pick our respective brains about our jobs, but he’s still within my sight.

  Almost every time I glance over, his eyes collide with mine, and he offers an intimate smile that chases away my nerves.

  Movement in my periphery catches my attention, and I slowly turn to track the Vice President’s movements. Phone in hand, whatever is on it holds his attention, a fierce frown etched on his face. He eases his way through the guests, heading down the hall to a bedroom.

  I excuse myself from the ladies I was half-ass conversing with and carefully follow the Vice President’s path. Catching Landon’s eyes, I mouth, “Bathroom,” and he nods, turning back to his conversation with a few older gentlemen.

  Carpeting starts at the hallway, and I’m grateful it swallows the sound of my heels as I trail down the hall, reaching the closed door he just went through. No one else lingers in the hall, so I carefully turn the doorknob and ease myself inside.

  This bedroom has been turned into a small home office, a large white oak desk sprawled at the far end. The Vice President sits in the chocolate-brown office chair, head snapping up when I let in an audible trace of the festivities with my entrance. Quickly closing the door behind me, I watch his expression morph from irritation to practiced politeness.

  “Can I help you, Kennedy?” Gesturing to his left, he adds, “If you’re searching for the lavatory, you went one door too far.”

  Instead of answering him, I unzip my wristlet purse, my fingers brushing against the only thing I need.

  “You know, Mr. Vice President…” I step closer. “Some say John F. Kennedy was one of the few elected presidents who wasn’t bought and paid for. That he didn’t play by the rules of the elites, and that’s why he was assassinated.”

  He leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “Most refer to those rumors as conspiracy theories.”

  “Perhaps.” I advance closer, and with each step I take, wariness grows on his face. “Have you ever read The Count of Monte Cristo, Mr. Vice President?”

  His eyes narrow. “I have.”

  I smile and tip my head, slowly circling his desk to join him. Our proximity has him holding up his hands. “Now, I’m still a married man. I may have lost my wife recently, but—”

  I lean in close and interrupt him with a whisper. “I know. I was there.”

  The way his eyes widen would be comical under any other circumstance. My movements methodical and quick, I grip his chin in my hand while the tip of the needle sinks in the prominent vein of his neck. The fucking bastard doesn’t know what to do except stare back at me in horror.

  Eyeing him sharply, I release his chin and roughly unfasten his necktie, ball it up at his lips. My words are steely. “Open up, or I empty this entire syringe right now.” I stuff the fabric in his mouth.

  Sliding out his top desk drawer, I find exactly what I need. Plucking one pair from the drawer, I instruct, “Put these on. Tightly.”

  Because I know him better than he realizes, I also recognize the instant he decides to resist, so I sink the needle in deeper.

  And not with care.

  His howl is muffled by the fabric in his mouth, but he does as directed and secures the handcuffs to his wrists.

  “Tighter.”

  He struggles with the cuffs, eyes holding a unique mixture of hatred and fear so tangible I can almost taste it.

  The second I reach for the other set with the longer chain linking the cuffs, his muffled protests sound, but I ignore him. Snapping one cuff around his upper arm, I secure the other cuff to the chair.

  “Now, I have an important question for you.”

  I wait for him to realize it’s futile to escape from these restraints.

  I would know. I tried dozens upon dozens of times.

  “Have you missed me, Daddy?”

  Chapter 80

  Landon

  Tossing another glance at the hallway before I look around for Kennedy, I wonder if I missed her return from the ladies’ room.

  When I still don’t see any sign of her, a chilling premonition courses through me, and I excuse myself from the men I’ve been speaking to. My shoes eat up the hardwood floor until I get to the carpeted hallway leading to the bathroom.

  After finding it unoccupied, that itch between my shoulder blades rises with a vengeance. I’m passing by the second doorway, in search of the other bathroom, when I hear her voice. Or what I think is her voice.

  It’s what she says that doesn’t make any fucking sense. Something urges me to withdraw my gun, and I carefully open the door in time to hear her ask again, “You didn’t answer me. Have you missed me, Daddy?”

  What the fuck?

  I raise my gun, kicking the door closed behind me. “Put down the syringe, Kennedy.” My voice holds a lethal edge while I feel like a heavyweight champion’s just gone to town on my gut.

  This can’t be my woman. My Kennedy doesn’t do shit like this. She operates on the right side of the law like me.

  She doesn’t bother to look at me, her eyes trained on the Vice President. “You don’t understand what he’s done!” Her voice holds more emotional turmoil than I’ve ever witnessed from her. Even compared to the other night when she was reeling from the child’s death.

  Anguish. Fury. Heartache. Despair. It saturates her voice that cracks when she repeats herself. “You. Don’t. Understand.” She swallows hard, as if her throat is clogged with grief. “He doesn’t deserve to live!”

  My hold on my weapon doesn’t waver, nor do my eyes veer from her. My training has kicked in, but my instincts are warring with me. Something in her voice has me at a standstill.

  “Just walk away,” she pleads brokenly. “Pretend you were never here. Please.”

  Neither of us pays attention to the muffled sounds coming from the gagged and bound man tied to the chair.

  When I make no move to leave or lower my weapon, her eyes cut to mine. My knees go weak at the devastation in them. “Please, Landon. You have no idea the kind of monster he really is.”

  “So, help me understand.” I keep my gun trained on her.

  A rough, harsh laugh spills from her. “This man, this mentor of yours,” she sneers. “He was my father.”

  Shock barrels through me, and my eyes volley between the two of them.

  “Except he wasn’t a father at all.” Her eyes are filled with unspeakable pain that I k
now is no act. “No…he raped me and let his friends do whatever they wanted to me.” Her voice might waver, but her hand holding that needle at his throat doesn’t tremble the slightest.

  “They treated me like I was a worthless toy. They’re the reason I can’t have children.” A lone tear spills down her cheek, and she turns to him, sarcasm slicing with each word. “Remember that, Daddy? I ended up pregnant, and one of your buddies did a botched abortion on me. Those were fun times.”

  Her eyes lock with mine once again just as another tear trickles down her cheek. She clenches her jaw tight before she speaks. Her voice possesses an eerie resigned calmness. “Go ahead and shoot me, Landon. I don’t blame you. But just know that I will do whatever it takes to make sure this poison is in his veins before your bullet hits me.”

  She holds my gaze a beat before lowering her voice. “I did some digging, and I found something out about your Gina.” Sympathy is etched on her features. “It wasn’t your baby, Landon. He had her get an abortion because it was his. I have the proof.”

  Turning, she holds his chin in her hand, her knuckles flexing with punishing force. “Isn’t that right? Tell him.”

  Staring into the eyes of a man I looked up to for years, someone who helped me pull my life together, I can tell the instant he decides to give it all up.

  My mouth parts, and it becomes hard to breathe, but somehow, I force out, “Is that true?”

  His muffled, “Yes,” from behind the gag has me almost dropping to my knees. The resigned defeat in his eyes speaks volumes.

  Holding the needle firmly in place, she leans closer to his ear. “Tell him the truth. But if you motherfucking dare to scream or yell, I will drag out your death.” Then she tugs part of his tie free from his mouth.

  “Landon,” comes his panted plea. “You have to understand, son. I had no choice. Gina seduced me—” He sucks in a sharp breath, and I realize Kennedy must’ve sunk the needle deeper.

  “Tell him the whole truth,” Kennedy commands. “Tell him what you did to her.”

  When he doesn’t immediately respond, I barely force the words out. “Did you rape her?” He merely stares back at me with indecision in his eyes. I repeat in a low, dark tone, “Did. You. Rape. Her?”

  He hesitates, as if he’s attempting to find another option other than revealing the truth. I watch as he finally concedes and admits quietly, “Yes.”

  Kennedy hisses at him. “Tell him what you did. How you took advantage of her. She trusted you, and you betrayed her.”

  His nostrils flare, features drawn with pain, and he lets out a short, harsh laugh. “I have my preferences when it comes to women, and she was in her prime.”

  Horror floods my veins. In her prime? His words spread a sense of filthiness over me, clinging to my skin. Dirty-ass motherfucker.

  With another panted breath, he begs, “You’re better than this, son. Don’t let her do this. She’s crazy.”

  This is the man I thought of as a mentor all these years… Shocked revelation that I trusted him sears through me like a burning brand. It was all a fucking lie.

  “And you let me think it was me all these years.” Numbness takes hold, my voice dead. “I trusted you.”

  Kennedy’s jaw clenches tight, her voice filled with vehemence and disgust. “He can’t be trusted with anything.” She roughly shoves the cloth back into his mouth, and he lets out a grunt of protest. “This is the same man who raped me when I was twelve years old. The man who let his friends violate me in ways no child should experience. He’s the vilest creature I’ve ever known.

  “Please, Landon.” Her eyes lock with mine, silently pleading. “Just act like you were never here.”

  They both stare back at me, each begging for something different. But one thing is undeniable.

  They have the same eyes.

  Christ. I’ve always prided myself on my moral judgment. But now, my world’s become inverted.

  Alaina Wray had disappeared when she was seventeen years old. Then-Secretary of State Charles “Chip” Wray and his wife, Eleanor, had mourned her publicly.

  Lowering my weapon slowly, I keep my eyes locked with hers.

  She quietly pleads, “Can you get the girl out of here?” Meaning, the young girl the Wrays recently adopted. Ah, fuck.

  I nod before forcing out my words. “You have five minutes. Then you need to be long gone.”

  Her chin lifts up, and she mashes her lips thin before giving a curt nod. Because we know how this has to play out.

  I’m on the right side of the law. She’s not. I can’t give any more than I already have. My fucking world has imploded.

  With one final look at the woman I love, I say the words I hoped I wouldn’t have to.

  “Goodbye, Kennedy.”

  Then I turn and leave.

  Chapter 81

  Kennedy

  I always knew it would come to this. That I’d be staring down the barrel of his gun.

  We’re similar yet so vastly different. We both battle on the right side of the law. The difference is, when the justice system fails, I go rogue.

  To Landon, the world consists of good versus evil. He doesn’t quite realize there’s more to it than just that.

  I wish he understood that I’m not entirely the evil one here. I’m merely extinguishing it. I’m preventing a slimy bastard from snuffing out the innocence and goodness from others.

  This man was never a father to me. He was a tormentor. A cruel dictator who is the last link I need to obliterate from my past.

  “Can you get the girl out of here?” The young girl these monsters adopted deserves much better than this. She needs to find a new family—a safer one.

  The muscle in Landon’s jaw flexes before he nods. His words sound as if they’re being forced out against his will. His voice is devoid of warmth, his tone flat, emotionless. “You have five minutes. Then you need to be long gone.”

  The finality in his words tells me everything I need to know. He’s made his choice, and although it’s exactly what I predicted all along, it doesn’t hurt any less.

  His dismissal acts like searing hot lava poured over my skin. It’s a pain unlike any other. But I force myself to nod because I respect his choice even if I wish he’d chosen differently.

  Even though the man has already embedded himself in my heart and soul, I let my eyes drink him in one final time.

  “Goodbye, Kennedy.” He turns and leaves.

  Gripping the Vice President’s chin in a punishing hold, I force him to look into my eyes. “Do you remember, earlier, when I said if you screamed or yelled, I’d drag out your death?”

  He grunts his acknowledgment.

  “What I didn’t tell you is, I plan to do it anyway.” I lean in, bringing our faces closer so he can witness the demented joy in my gaze. “I have four minutes to drag this out.”

  His pallor goes pasty, and my mouth curves into a menacing grin as I depress the syringe the slightest bit. “I don’t believe in karma. I believe in revenge.” I watch him, waiting for the indication the poison has begun its job. “This syringe contains a higher potency than I’ve ever used before. I thought I’d try it out on you, Daddy.”

  His muscles jerk involuntarily, the handcuffs rattling with the movements. My eyes go wide in mock surprise. “Oh, my. That’s quite the reaction. I wonder what will happen if I give you a little bit more…”

  I release more poison into his body, and his face wrinkles in agony. “Oh, dear. That does look painful.” With a quick glance at the time, I realize I don’t have much longer to draw this out.

  His body taut as it protests the poison flooding his system, I watch as his bladder gives way and he wets himself. His eyes roll back in his head and I depress the syringe completely, whispering in his ear, “Enjoy burning in hell with the others.”

  In the final seconds of the allotted minute Landon spared me, I clean up after myself, ensuring no physical evidence is left behind to incriminate Landon or me. I also upload a f
uck ton of evidence on the bastard’s computer for authorities to find, including evidence from the abuse inflicted on his firstborn “deceased” daughter.

  It’s time to close this door once and for all.

  Even though, for a split second, I hoped there’d be a chance that I could walk away from my past with Landon at my side, there’s some comfort knowing I’ll finally leave everything in this fucking place behind me.

  This time, it’s fully on my terms, without any fear of my past chasing after me.

  This time, though, I am truly and utterly alone.

  Chapter 82

  Landon

  I take the coward’s way out, like a goddamn chump, and let someone else find the Vice President.

  Kennedy had been thorough in wiping down the scene, especially of fingerprints, because the authorities didn’t even come back to me. And I sure as shit know my prints were on that door handle.

  Once the media catches wind of the story, it turns into a bigger fucking mess. It’s all anyone can talk about.

  “The Vice President was found dead from asphyxiation in his home in the early morning hours Saturday. Vice President Wray had been hosting a Christmas party Friday evening at his residence.

  “Although he had recently lost his wife, Eleanor, to an untimely suicide, Vice President Wray had insisted on carrying on with the tradition of holding the party, stating, ‘Eleanor would’ve wanted us to carry on in her memory.’

  “As authorities have begun their investigation, the circumstances surrounding his death remain decidedly scandalous.

  “Evidence was discovered that showed the Vice President had been in the process of backing up thousands of files that contained disturbing pornographic material depicting many minors and incriminating others (all of whom are now deceased) here in D.C.

  “Now that this story has unfolded, many conspiracy theorist groups on social media sites are claiming they had been tracking these ‘elite pedos’ for some time and had proof that was ignored by authorities for years.