Keegan (Wounded Hero Book 1)

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Keegan (Wounded Hero Book 1) Page 31

by Marysol James


  “Sure,” King said amiably.

  “King!” The guy tying the towel around Keegan’s arm paused and gave King a doozy of a look. “What the actual hell?”

  “Shut it, Jack,” King growled. “I’m not done talking to Ms. Montgomery. And why don’t you just go on over there and stand on that dickface’s head, make sure he doesn’t try to dash outside, huh?” He watched Jack cross the room, kick Dragon down flat onto his face, then plant a heavy boot on the back on the other man’s head. King nodded, then turned his attention back to Trish. His steel-gray eyes bore into hers with an intensity that kept her feet rooted to the spot and her breath tight in her chests he continued talking:

  “As I was saying… I totally get why you want to fire a slug into this prick’s chest, but here’s what I want to say to you before you carry on with whatever you have planned: it’s not one witness who might rat you out.”

  Trish blinked again. “Huh?”

  “You’d better add another three witnesses to whatever happens here.”

  “King,” Jack said again, in a more half-hearted way this time. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m explaining to Ms. Montgomery what her choices are here.”

  “Ah.” Jack nodded in complete understanding even as he ground his boot more firmly into Dragon’s neck. “Carry on.”

  “Much appreciated.” King turned his attention back to Trish. “Look… here’s the way things are, OK? You can go ahead and shoot the guy – and between you and me the cows out there, none of us will make a move to stop you, if that’s what you feel you need to do – but you’d better be prepared to live with whatever happens after.”

  “So you wouldn’t stop me from shooting him but you’d turn me in for doing it?” she asked.

  “Nope, that’s not what I’m talking about. I mean, sure: if he goes missing, it’s possible one of his fellow assholes will come looking and it won’t be outside the realm of possibility that they’d start with tracking you down and asking you a few questions.”

  Trish blanched. She hadn’t thought of that. King saw her face and gave her a grim smile.

  “Now you’re starting to see the bigger picture, huh?” he said. “And even if nobody comes looking – and the truth is that I suspect that this piece of shit’s buddies wouldn’t break their necks to defend his name or honor – what about cleaning up the mess so that there are no questions and no blow-back from the cops?”

  “The – mess?” Trish faltered, looking around the demolished living room. “You mean – the house?”

  “No, darlin’,” Keegan said patiently. “He means the dead body.”

  Now Trish’s lips turned white; she lowered the gun all the way. “I – I hadn’t thought –”

  “I know you hadn’t thought about it,” King said. “Nobody does. It’s easy to get all caught up in anger and revenge and letting all those emotions run hot and wild and kill someone… but it’s fucking hard to get away with killing someone. Do you have any clue what to do after a killing so that there’s zero trace of it ever having happened? How to dispose of a dead body so that it’s never found – not ever, not by anyone?”

  “No,” she whispered. “I don’t.”

  “Did you assume that Keegan was going to help you clean up the mess?” King asked her in a severe tone. “Do you think that we will?”

  “No, I –” she paused. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

  “Well, think about it now,” King said. “Because if you want to do this, be my guest. I’m not going to stop you and I doubt anyone else would either… but you’d better make damn sure that you’ve got some help or at least a rock-solid plan for all the shit that comes after. And before you ask: I’m happy to step aside and let you shoot this asshole, but I’m leaving right after that.”

  “Me too,” Jack piped up. “I’m busy tonight. I have big plans to order pizza and watch the game.”

  Trish managed a wry smile. “Got it.”

  “What the hell?” Dragon muttered into the floor. “You’re all fucking nuts, man. Out of your minds.”

  “Shut up,” King and Trish said in unison, then they shared a smile.

  “Baby,” Keegan said quietly. “Listen up now.”

  She nodded.

  “You want this fucker to die, you go on ahead and pull the trigger. I think it’s a huge mistake and I don’t think you should do it – I don’t want you to live with regret or doubt but in the end, it ain’t my decision what you choose to live with. You hearin’ me, Trish? This is down to you, all you.” He stared at her, his silver eyes like laser beams cutting through the haze of anger that surrounded her. “But if you kill him, I’ll help you after.”

  “You will?” she blurted. “You’d – you’d do that for me?”

  “I would. I ain’t an expert in makin’ people disappear but I’ve heard stories from people who are.” Keegan shrugged and watched Dragon’s face turn rigid with shock that this might actually happen. “No promises or guarantees, but I’d have your back as far as I’d be able to do it.”

  Trish stared at him some more, looked at the other three men, then finally looked back at Dragon. He was still pinned to the floor under Jack’s boot, his face was covered in blood and snot and spit, and he looked and sounded so utterly pathetic and disgusting that her stomach lurched. God, he was such a piece of shit loser of an animal and she hated him… but did that mean that he should die?

  It occurred to her then that that was the wrong question because of course he should die. Callum Decker served no earthly purpose whatsoever, he gave nothing to anyone except pain, he was twisted and sick and depraved.

  Yes, he should die. The world would be better of without him. Trish believed that with all her heart and soul: her faith in this was unshakeable.

  But…that’s not the point anymore is it?

  The point, she knew, was that if she took his life, then Keegan would help her cover it up. He’d become an accessory or an accomplice or whatever-the-hell the fancy legal term would be… he’d put himself at the risk for jail, and losing his business and his family, and being shamed and reviled – and he’d take that risk for her, to protect her. All because she wanted to take her revenge.

  It wasn’t just about her anymore though, was it? It was about Keegan now too… and his vow to help her even as he put everything good and pure in his life at risk while he did. She didn’t even have to ask him to help her, she knew that; she knew that if she blew Dragon’s head off here and now Keegan would just step up, no need to beg or even say a word. But she couldn’t let him risk his whole damn life for her few seconds of sweet, sweet vengeance.

  Could she?

  Janie’s sweet, bright face flashed up before her eyes and that’s when she knew what to do.

  “Dammit.” Trish sighed deeply and finally set down the now-heavy shotgun on the floor. “I can’t do it. I mean – I can… but I won’t.”

  All the men sighed collectively too.

  “That’s my girl,” Keegan said and crossed the room to take her in his arms. She subsided against him, avoiding his shoulder even as he tried to hold her tighter and closer.

  “But,” she said quietly, her words a bit muffled Keegan’s chest. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to just hand this piece of human trash over to the authorities. I shot him. I have to answer for that, right, I get that. But what does he answer for? Does he just…” She shrugged and it was a defeated gesture, so small and hurt. “Does he get away with it? With everything that he’s ever done to me and to other women? Is that justice?”

  “Nope.”

  Trish stared at the man who’d shown up out of the darkness with King and Jack, the only man who hadn’t spoken before this second. He was tall and broad, with thick black hair and the darkest green eyes that she’d ever seen.

  “Ummmm.” Trish blinked at him, wondering just who the hell he was and how he was tied to this situation. “Nope to which part? Him getting away with it, or that not being justice?”
r />   “Both.” The man leaned his massive shoulder against the wall, crossed one jeaned leg casually over the other as he stood there. “I have an idea and it’s one that if you accept, he won’t get away with anything that he’s ever done – and which is a form of justice.”

  “Dalton,” King said. “Careful now.”

  “Dalton?” Trish repeated and shot Keegan a look. “Dalton from your support group?”

  “The one and only, sweet cheeks,” Dalton drawled and grinned at Keegan’s acidic glare. “Aw, c’mon man, you know I’ve got no designs on your girl here.”

  “Better not,” Keegan muttered. “Sweet cheeks.”

  “And what did you mean?” Trish asked King. “Why’d you say ‘careful now’?”

  “Because I know what he’s about to propose,” King replied in his gravelly voice that was now tinged with an odd combination of worry and awe. “Because I know who he is and what he does.”

  Chapter 19

  Trish, Keegan, Jack and Dragon stared at King, then at Dalton.

  “OK, I’ll bite,” Jack said. “Who is he and what does he do?”

  “I run a kind of farm,” Dalton said. “With kind of animals.”

  “Uh-huh,” Keegan said skeptically. “A kind of farm with kind of animals?”

  “Yep.”

  “You gonna tell us more?” Keegan asked. “Or are we expected to fill in the damn blanks ourselves?”

  “OK, look.” Dalton stood straight again and looked at Trish. “This place that I have, it’s an old abandoned farm. I bought it six years ago when I came back from Afghanistan. I redid and overhauled it with my own two hands and got it ready. Took about two years of solid hard work, but the twenty stalls that used to house the sheep and cows have been totally converted.”

  “Converted to what?” Jack asked, his eyes steady and calm.

  “To cells.” Dalton nodded at Dragon. “And I have one that’d be perfect for him.”

  “Ahhh,” Jack exhaled as if things had just been made clear. “So you’re the one.”

  “I am.”

  Jack narrowed his eyes. “I’ve heard about you and your place, but I wasn’t sure any of it was real or serious.”

  “Oh, it’s real,” King said. “And as serious as a goddamn heart attack.”

  “Is it really called ‘Vigilanteville’?” Jack asked.

  “Nah,” Dalton replied in an amused tone. “I never called it anything at all, not even to myself. But the rumors started up when criminals starting disappearing, you know, and somehow that name started getting used over and over. I laughed when I first heard it and sometimes when I’m feeling snarky, I call the place ‘V’, like a small nod to ‘Vigilanteville’. But no, it’s not like I have a sign hanging above the barn saying: ‘Welcome to V’.”

  “OK, wait,” Keegan said, stunned. “Lemme catch up here, since everyone else seems to know what the hell’s goin’ on here except me and Trish… you mean to tell me that you have a – a fuckin’ prison somewhere?”

  “Kind of,” Dalton said. “It has bars and cells but it’s not technically a prison.”

  “How come?”

  “Well, since the ‘vigilante’ part doesn’t seem to have really sunk in, it’s because none of the guests at my place have been to court.”

  “They – what?” Keegan stared at him. “No court?”

  “Nope. They haven’t been arrested or charged or tried. Not officially.”

  “So unofficially?”

  “OK, look.” Dalton took a deep breath. “People do bad shit all the time and the cops and courts can’t or won’t or don’t prosecute them. Right? Happens every day, all over the world that people get away with murder – and I mean that literally. Not just murder, though… selling drugs, selling people’s bodies, selling kids.” He looked at Trish, his eyes softer now. “Rape. Abuse. Assault. Blackmail.”

  She gave a small sob and Keegan held her tighter, uncaring that his shoulder screamed in protest.

  “You got it right earlier, Trish,” Dalton said to her. “If we all leave here now and go to the police, what happens? You get arrested for shooting this piece of shit and what does he get? Maybe he gets charged with trespassing, maybe with carrying an illegal weapon, maybe with blackmail, maybe he finally has to answer for what he did to you on that fucking disgusting video.” He paused. “Or maybe not. Maybe he pleads out, maybe he gets probation, maybe your evidence isn’t considered admissible or strong enough, maybe he convinces a court that video was consensual because you were a porn star and it was all scripted. Will anyone even think that you could be raped, since you had sex for money… plenty of people think that prostitutes and porn stars aren’t capable of being raped because of some fucked up idea that they have bad characters and no morals.”

  Trish took a shuddering breath and nodded. “I know.”

  “So – what?” Dalton said. “Should you take your chances on a system that’s great in theory but falls pretty short in practice, especially when it comes to rape? Should anyone?”

  “So your place is – what? It’s for people who’d probably slip through the cracks in the system?” Keegan said. “People who get away with shit time and again and never get any punishment?”

  “That’s exactly who it’s for.” Dalton glared at Dragon. “It’s for assholes like him. I think he’d fit in beautifully.”

  “Do you – I don’t know.” Trish looked at Dalton, trying to ask the right questions. “Do you beat these guys up? Starve them? Generally mistreat them?”

  “Never. It’s not about that.”

  “So what do you do to them?”

  “I give them a sentence appropriate to their crimes,” Dalton said simply. “Then I put them in their cell and that’s where they stay until their time is up. They get three meals a day, they have enough space in the cells to move around and exercise, they get medicine and medical attention if they need it, they’re warm enough and have beds.”

  “Wow,” Keegan said. “That’s – well. I don’t know what the hell that is.”

  “Make no mistake, Trish,” Dalton said. “What I do is straight-up, flat-out, full-tilt-boogie illegal – but that doesn’t make it injustice. If I think that a court will deal with – or has dealt with – a criminal fairly, I leave them to the system. I let the cops and courts do their jobs and collect evidence and then hand down an appropriate punishment. But if things don’t go that way, then I think there’s more than one way for justice to happen… and it’s not always strictly legal.”

  “Huh,” Trish murmured as she gazed down at Dragon as he squirmed and squawked on the bloody floor. “I get that.”

  “So it’s your call,” Dalton told her. “I don’t lose any sleep at night for what I do, but this isn’t for everyone. I know that. I know that you might not be able to be a part of something like this and if you can’t, that’s OK. You tell me what you want to do, and I’ll do it.” He shrugged. “Or I won’t do a thing, if that’s what you want instead.”

  Trish stood there looking smaller and younger than Keegan had ever seen her. He hugged her again and she looked over at Dragon and then up at him.

  “I want him to lose everything,” she said in that low, rough voice that broke his heart in two with its vulnerability. “His freedom and livelihood and money. His huge house in L.A. and his cars. Everything. I want him to hurt – hurt bad. The way that he hurt me and others.” She bit her lip. “The thing is: I want to be the one that takes it all away, I want to be the one who hurts him. I can live with that, I know that I can. If he’s not being waterboarded or having his toenails pulled out, and he’s fed every day and he’ll get medication attention for whatever’s left of his hand, I can accept everything that Dalton says, since this sick monster would be out of society completely. People would be safe from him. But… what do you think? I mean, could you look at me the same way if I choose this? If I take away years of a man’s life without trial… just because I think that’s justice?”

  “You really w
anna know what I think?” Keegan said quietly.

  “I do.”

  “OK, then.” Keegan sighed. “I think two things. First, I think that you should hand this waste of skin and oxygen over to Dalton and make him face his miserable, pathetic fate at last. It’s been a long, long time comin’ for him.”

  “No!” Dragon howled and reared up; Jack kicked his back and he fell face-down again, still protesting. “You fucking lunatics – you can’t just lock me up on some goddamn farm or something, to just rot! No trial or lawyer or conviction or anything! That’s fucking illegal! That’s – that’s –”

  “How this might all go down,” Dalton told him. “You wouldn’t be the first or the last to wriggle their way out of justice for too damn long – and sometimes things catch up with you and take forms that you didn’t see coming. It’s not always your choice how your free ride ends. And by the way, it’s fucking hysterical that you suddenly care about things being done legally. Are you familiar with irony, asshole?”

  “Fuck that!” Dragon was almost incoherent now. “Just – just fuck that and all of you! You’re goddamn monsters –”

  “Shut it,” King growled at him and by some miracle, Dragon subsided back onto the floor after a tiny prod from Jack. King looked back at Keegan. “So what’s the second thing that you think?”

  “Ahhhhh, right.” Keegan smiled down at Trish. “Well, the second thing that I think is… I love you.”

  “You –” Trish blinked as King, Dalton and Jack grinned at her. “You do?”

  “I do. And that’s why nothin’ that you do to this piece of shit – nothin’ that you do at all, really – will change how I look at you and what I think about you. You’re the strongest, toughest, sweetest, best person that I know, baby, and I love you no matter what. You need to know that I’ve got your back from now until fuckin’ the end of time… I’d help you no matter what you did ‘cause I’d pull the moon out of the sky to keep you safe and happy. You hearin’ me, sugar? If you want to disappear this asshole off the earth courtesy of Dalton, then I’ll drop-kick him smack into the jaws of hell personally. All you gotta do is ask.” He gently wiped a tear off her cheek. “Ask me anythin’ that you need, Trish, and it’s done.”

 

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