Vengeance Before Virtue

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Vengeance Before Virtue Page 16

by Tyler Porter


  The text message explicitly said that she couldn’t talk on the phone, but he couldn’t come up with a good reason why, so he tried calling her anyways. It went straight to voicemail without even ringing, which meant she either sent the text and immediately turned off her phone, or she declined his call. Either way, he had to make a decision. He could run back to Chicago and find out what was happening, or, he could stay and try to find his father before it was too late.

  Matt held the phone open with the text up in one hand and the envelope in the other, knowing that this decision would change his life one way or another. If he left, he was certain Mariah would be dead before the night was through. Hell, he didn’t even know if she was alive, but he knew he didn’t find a body at the old house where his dad had been hiding out. He didn’t know what was happening with Andi and Riley for sure, but at least now he knew that they were safe in his penthouse with round-the-clock security.

  He typed a message back to Andi, letting her know that he loved her very much and that he would be back as soon as he could. Then he dropped the phone into his pocket, and held the envelope up. After a moment’s hesitation, he opened it. Another letter was folded inside. He withdrew it and sat down in the lobby with it still folded in his hand. He knew whatever was written was going to change his world, whether he liked it or not. He gradually dropped his head and unfolded it.

  Matthew,

  I know things haven’t been the same since your mother died. It was a true tragedy, and I am sorry that it had to happen. It was unfortunate. However, we have to move on and concentrate on the task at hand. The first letter you received summoned you to an alley where you were sent a warning. The second led you to your mother. This one will be the last that you receive. Your sister is not well. She is little more than a pawn in this game of mine, and you are the only knight left who can save her. Do it son. Mount your steed and ride into the darkness for a chance to see her alive again. You must act quickly, as she has lost an ungodly amount of blood. If you do not come, I will no longer have any use for her, and she will die slow, painfully, and alone in the cold. Where it all began. Where all of this started and where all of it must end. 7495 Chester Dr.

  Love,

  Dad

  Chapter 20: Where It All Began

  He knew the address. He knew it like he knew his birthday. It was an address, a house, that he would never forget, even though it was a house that he had spent most of his life trying to run far enough away from that it would disappear from his memory. He rolled into Council Grove and drove the streets following the GPS on his phone⸺not because he needed directions, but because he was hoping that he was wrong. He was hoping that the house he pulled up to would not be the one he remembered. His hopes were shattered quickly as he pulled into the driveway.

  Michael Vincent’s house was exactly the way he remembered. Every dream that he’d ever had of that night painted it perfectly in his mind. The way the shutters hung, showing their ages. The creepy way that the curtains on the big front window were always slightly opened as if someone was watching from inside the house. It still held all of the stains from eggs and other garbage that had been thrown at it over the years.

  The Vincent family had kept the house for a long time after the murder, and the community did not do well in hiding their feelings toward the man who had once lived there. There was a sign in the yard advertising an auction that had already passed and a SOLD sign posted on the front of it. Had his father bought the house? The house that his daughter was raped in? The house that his son committed murder in? Was he so far gone that he would bring his children back to the one place that haunted both of them?

  There was no time to contemplate. He had one option, and that was to go inside, unarmed. The hospital had confiscated Sheriff Demsey’s two revolvers when he’d been admitted, and that left Matt with nothing. His hope was that his father would be open to reason, that somehow he could talk him out of his current state of mind. But Matt didn’t even know for sure that he could see his father without trying to rip his heart out. This man had killed his mom⸺the good, loving, faithful woman who gave everything for her family.

  As he was reminded, his anger grew. It was amplified by the memories that were coming back and the déjà vu that was setting in. Walking up to the door, empty handed, deciding how he would do it once he got inside. His blood was boiling, with fists clenched, shaking with rage. It was all too familiar, and he felt like he was back there. Back at that night living his worst nightmare all over again.

  He walked up to the door and tried his best to calm down as much as he could. He knew that going in angry and acting out of emotion could get Mariah or himself killed. He couldn’t risk that. As dire as the circumstance was, he had to try to keep it under control until the perfect moment. He reached out and turned the knob, staying where he was as he watched the door swing open.

  The house was dark and he hadn’t seen any other vehicles in the street. He moved inside closing the door behind him. The only sound was coming from his breathing, fast and shallow. He stood in the center of the living room looking around until he saw it. The family had never replaced the carpets; a deep, red stain still remained where he’d first attacked Vincent. When he looked closely, he could see the tiny stained trail from where he dragged him toward the bedroom.

  As he followed it, he could hear it all again. The screaming. The sound of flesh-on-flesh as he hit him over and over. He especially remembered the laughing. The laughter that came after the man who’d raped his little sister described her as his favorite, a wide smile on his face just before Matt caved it in. He tried to shut it all out as he followed the thin trail that remained, and sure enough, it ended at the closed door of the bedroom where he had committed murder. Where he had made the choice to put the love he had for his sister before the law.

  He squeezed the handle, turned it, and pushed it open. There she was. Mariah. She was awake, but she looked like she had little life left in her. Her hands were tied behind her back, and she was sitting with her legs tucked back under her. She was leaning her head against the wall sobbing, but no tears were coming out. There was blood on her head, but he couldn’t tell what had caused it or if she was still losing blood in that moment.

  Seeing no one else in the room, he rushed in and ran to her. He dropped to his knees in front of her and pulled her into his arms. He had to remind himself not to squeeze too hard, as he did not know the extent of her injuries. After a few seconds, he leaned away from her so that he could see her face. He moved a few stray hairs out of her eyes and looked at her. He couldn’t have asked for anything more than to find her alive.

  “I am so happy to see you! Are you hurt? Where does it hurt?”

  She didn’t answer; she just looked past him. He tried moving to make eye contact, but she continued to look through him. Then, as if she knew something were about to go wrong, she looked up at him and let her eyes tell a story. A story about how sorry she was to have been the reason he was there. That she was the reason that he came stumbling into their final resting place. He was so lost studying her look that he didn’t hear anyone step into the room behind him until the door slammed shut.

  He whipped around to find the hooded figure standing just inside the room with the door closed behind it. Matt moved so that his body was completely blocking Mariah’s. If any harm was to come to her, it would have to go through him first. He stared at the opening in the hood, but it was drawn so far up that the face was completely covered. He couldn’t find the eyes, so he decided to speak.

  “This is all over. It ends here. No more letters, no more riddles, no more bodies. It’s over.” He got no response, so he continued. “I know it’s you. I’ve known it since I found Mom. Have you told Mariah yet? Have you told her that her own father slaughtered her mother and then tried to kill her brother?”

  The person said nothing, just stood in position by the door. Matt looked over his shoulder at Mariah, expecting to see a look of disbelief or fear
, but instead, he got a blank look. Not blank like she was in shock, but surprisingly, blank like she already knew. He looked at her hard, trying to read her, and then back at the figure who hadn’t moved.

  “What are you waiting for? This is what you wanted, right? You wanted us both back here? For what? To make us relive the worst thing in our past? Are you that far gone that you would have that be our last memory before ending us right here?”

  No answer, no movement.

  “Answer me! Answer me you son of bitch! I deserve answers! My own father wants me and the rest of our family dead. I want to know why, and I want to know right now!”

  For the first time the figure moved, but it didn’t move toward Matt. Instead, it moved toward the closet. It stopped before reaching it, and bent down. As Matt watched, he saw the short chain that was sticking out of the bottom of the closet. The figure stood back up, chain in hand, and opened the closet. Then it began moving backwards, pulling the chain as if leading a horse out of a barn. It wasn’t a horse, but a man that emerged from the closet, hands chained and mouth bound.

  Everything Matt thought he knew was wrong. Every conclusion he’d come to had been a mistake. He’d been so intent on making the truth what he believed it to be that he had never entertained the idea that he might be wrong. That he might be very, very wrong. The man who emerged from the closet, bound in chains and bloodied, was Patrick O’Bannon.

  Chapter 21: Under the Hood

  “...Dad?” Matt asked as he fought off the shock.

  “It’s true, dear old dad wasn’t so bad after all.”

  The voice came from under the hood. From the man who was holding the chain in his hand. The man grabbed a handful of Patrick’s hair and pulled his hair back, making the older man wince in pain. Then, he dropped the chain and shoved Matt’s dad forward so hard that he fell onto his face next to Mariah. Matt dropped down next to him and cradled his head. Tears fell from his face and landed on his father’s. He’d been so wrong. How could he have been so wrong!?

  “Aww, don’t cry Matthew. That comes later, much later. You don’t want to ruin everything by doing things out of order. That wouldn’t make me very happy.”

  Matt stood and faced the man across from him, showing no fear. He’d had doubts as to how he would deal with his father, but now that he knew his family was safe behind him, all he felt was anger.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  “Aw, time to kill the fun already?”

  “I’ve played your little fucking games, I’ve solved your fucking riddles, and I’ve gone on your damn wild goose chases. Your fun is over. It’s done.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so. I’ve led you around like a puppet for days, and I’ve made you believe what I wanted you to believe. I made you believe that your father killed your mother, but let me share a little secret... I killed your mother. And she screamed like a whore in heat when I twisted my knife in her chest.”

  Matt moved toward the man, but he quickly pulled a pistol from behind him and aimed it straight at Matt’s head.

  “No, no, no. None of that. I’ve waited a long time for this moment, and you sure as hell aren’t going to ruin it for me.”

  “What do you mean, you’ve waited a long time?” He wanted to keep the man talking. He was sure he recognized the voice, but he couldn’t place it.

  “This whole thing has been about... deception. I’m sorry to say that I’ve deceived you; you could even say that I tricked you. But, I’ve saved the best trick for last.”

  With that, he held the gun in front of himself with one hand and with the other, he reached up and pulled back the hood that had concealed him so well.

  “Cody?” Matt said. “Why? You helped me! I brought back your money! I swear it’s in my vehicle right now!”

  “Oh, and let me guess, you came back and found all of my members dead in the back room of the bar?” Matt nodded. “You thought that was a coincidence? No, of course you didn’t. Because I’m better than that. I laid the ground work. You really thought that your daddy had come through? That one weak old man could put down a whole crew?”

  “You? You killed your own men? Why?”

  “They never mattered, Matt. Just like your mom didn’t matter. Just like your dad doesn’t matter. And just like Mariah doesn’t matter. None of it mattered... except for you.”

  “What do you mean, me? I just met you a few days ago! What did I do in that time to make you kill innocent people? To go after my family?”

  “Oh, it wasn’t what you did in the last few days. It’s what you did a long time ago and what you’ve been doing ever since. What happened in this house Matt?”

  “You know what happened here. You knew who I was the second you heard my name because of it.”

  “Say it. Out loud. I want to hear you say it.” Cody was seething as he spoke like a cackling hyena ready to attack a wounded gazelle.

  “This house belonged to Michael Vincent. He was a school teacher in town. He was also my little sister’s after-school tutor who she trusted. Who we all trusted. Until one night... when she came home in tears, and ...” Matt stopped. He refused to cry in front of this man. He wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. “She came home in tears and a torn pink dress. She told me that he’d raped her.”

  “Then what?”

  “You know how this story ends, Cody.”

  “Fucking say it! Say it!!” he screamed as he squeezed the gun so tightly that it was shaking in his hand.

  “I snuck out and came here, to this house. I broke in and confronted him. He laughed. And I lost it. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I just couldn’t stop myself.”

  “Say it.”

  “I killed him. I killed him right here where I’m standing. I can still see it now.”

  “But you didn’t just kill him. You caved his fucking head in! You could have just shot him or slit his throat, something to get it over with. But you chose to beat him to death. You made him feel every second of it until he drew his last fucking breath!”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Do you know how many people showed up to his funeral?” Matt didn’t respond. “Answer me!”

  “No. I don’t.”

  “Three. Three people were there. The funeral home director, his mother, and... his brother.”

  All at once, it all made sense. Why he’d looked so familiar when Matt had first met him. How he’d known so much about him having never met him. Most of all, why he’d brought them all back to this place. The man holding the gun was Cody Vincent.

  “What? Why the long face? Didn’t know he had a brother? You didn’t know much about him at all did you? You didn’t know that he was addicted to pain killers and anti-depressants! You didn’t know that our stepfather molested us until we were teenagers, and after that beat us every goddamn day! You had no idea what he’d been through! You just showed up here and took it upon yourself to be judge, jury, and executioner!”

  “I didn’t have a choice.”

  “You had a fucking choice! Don’t tell me you didn’t have a choice! You did, and you chose to stomp his fucking head in! You could have chosen to give him a chance. You could have let him go to trial. You could have let him go to prison, if that is where he belonged. But you took the law into your own hands!”

  “Cody, not a day goes by that I don’t think about that night. I’ve lived with it ever since, and I will until the day I die.”

  “Mikey could have lived with what he’d done until the day he died, but his time was cut short. By you. You’ve lived all this time as a successful businessman, respected member of the community, walking around as if you live a life of virtue. Well, that’s a nice story to tell yourself. But me? I don’t want virtue⸺I want vengeance, and I want it now!”

  He lowered the gun and fired two shots, both of which struck Patrick O’Bannon in the forehead. He fell to the side as blood trickled from the small holes. Matt dropped and as he did he screamed, but he heard no sound come out. He hadn’t
even heard the shots fire from the gun. It was like every fiber of his being was centered on his dad.

  Matt had misjudged him. He had taken his father for a killer, and now knew that none of it was true. His mother had already been dead when he showed up there, and Patrick found her just before. He saw Matt with the knife in his hand and thought he’d killed his mother. Father and son, and they had spent their last memories trying to kill each other for something neither of them were responsible for, and both of them were grieving for. He didn’t even have time to say goodbye. By the time he got to him on the ground, he was already gone. He held his father’s head in his hands, trying to memorize his face. He wanted to remember. He wanted his father to be with him always.

  Too many tears had been shed, and there were none left. He just closed his eyes as he held his father in his lap. Suddenly, it came back to him where he was and who he was with⸺Mariah and Cody Vincent. The man responsible for the death of his mother and father. Matt slowly opened his eyes and turned his head toward Cody. For just an instant, by the smile that was spreading across his face, he didn’t see Cody. He saw Michael Vincent.

  He saw the teacher-turned-pedophile. He saw the man who he knew would have gone free if it would have gone to trial and been his word against Mariah’s. He saw the smile that had driven him to commit murder. That same smile was on Cody’s face as Patrick O’Bannon’s blood flowed into Matt’s hands. Then came the laughter. That sick, twisted, sadistic laughter. It was the same laugh his brother had had.

  As he watched, Cody gradually lifted the gun again, this time pointing it at Mariah. No more. Matt pounced from his crouched position next to his father’s body and pushed the gun out of Mariah’s direction just as the gun cracked. He held onto Cody’s wrist as he forced him backwards against the wall, pulling Cody’s arm toward him, and then slamming it back against the wall hard three times. The first two hits resulted in rounds being fired from the chamber, but the third caused the gun to drop and slide across the floor.

 

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