The scene eclipsed Liam’s worst nightmares. And then it hit him. This was all a complex hallucination that would end if he didn’t engage it. He only had to imagine it away.
You’re making this up, dude. Pull yourself together. Wake up, wake up, wake up!
Face white with shock, Allison crumpled to the floor. Isaac knelt with her as Tasha threw herself at her mother’s knee and sobbed. Teeth bared in a rage-filled snarl, Isaac turned toward Cull. He said, “Leave my family alone. They’ve done nothing to you.”
“It’s like you’re not even listening to me, Colonel.” Cull huffed and rolled his eyes. “You know what Liam did to me. Besides, for my plan to work, I’ve got to stage this crime just right. That means your wife needs to bleed to death. I do, however, have a contingency plan. If you make any more trouble, I’ll be forced to resort to it. And it involves a bullet in her pretty head.”
“Don’t worry about me. Protect Tasha,” Allison whispered.
Nostrils flared with anger, Isaac kissed her good shoulder.
Cull said, “Now, I don’t wanna mislead you. Everybody here has to die. But I think we can agree some deaths are worse than others.” He shrugged. “Like yours, Colonel. There’s no getting around it. See, Liam here is gonna beat you silly. All his bottled up anger is going to boil out in a terrible way tonight. Your wife will catch him in the act, so he’ll shoot her before turning the gun on himself.”
Tasha stopped sniffling long enough to glare at Cull. She said, “Liam would never hurt Mommy or Daddy. You’re a liar.”
“The naivety of children. Usually such a beautiful thing. Tell me, sweetheart, how are you gonna die?” said Cull.
“Shut your mouth!” yelled Isaac. The cords on his neck stuck out as he kept his hand pressed to Allison’s shoulder. He turned toward Tasha. “You’re going to be fine, baby girl. Remember what I promised you?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
Cull clucked. “Aww, so touching. I hate to break it up, but it’s time. Liam―you want first dibs?”
Anytime now, self. Shut this shit down. Wish away Cull and this nightmare.
“You ain’t gonna say boo, are you, boy? Must’ve run through all your words at the shoppette.” Cull waved the gun and whistled. “Don’t you want a shot at the Colonel? You know what he does to your mother, right?”
“Leave my brother alone!” Tasha screeched. She jumped up and tore across the room to Cull.
“No, Tasha!” Isaac lifted his hand from Allison’s shoulder and sprang after his daughter. He dove between Cull and Tasha just in time to catch the full force of Cull bringing his gun down to crack her skull. His eyes rolled back, and his body went rigid. With a sickening thud, he fell to the floor.
Cull reached over Isaac’s inert body and grabbed Tasha by the hair.
An anguished scream spilled from Allison’s mouth. She placed her hands on the wall and tried unsuccessfully to pull up. Blood dripped down from her red palm prints and puddled on the floor.
“I wish you all would’ve cooperated. It has to get messy now.” Cull wrapped his muscular arms around Tasha’s throat in a chokehold.
Her eyes bulged, and her feet slapped against the floor as she kicked out her legs.
“Do something, Liam!” Allison cried.
Tasha opened her mouth in a silent struggle for air.
This is real! Help your sister!
The emotional chokehold doubt lorded over Liam finally broke. Cull was real. And if Liam didn’t do something, his family would die. Blood roared through his veins as he took a step forward.
Cull laughed. “Gonna be a hero, boy? Because however this all ends, the police will blame you. They’ll decide your family became afraid of you, so they locked you out. But a little bolted door couldn’t keep you out. No, sir. You broke in and killed them in a psychotic rage. Happens in the news all the time. Your family will be another unfortunate example of murder-suicide.”
The silk scarf in his pocket spread like liquid between his fingers. “I’m not killing anybody but you tonight,” Liam said.
“Please. Do you know how pathetic you sound? Like a snot-nosed schoolboy taunting a professional boxer.”
A familiar rumble sounded from the hallway. Cull’s eyes darted toward the sound. “You’ve got a dog?”
“No. Just one helluva mean cat,” said Liam.
A hissing, growling ball of irate fur barreled over Allison’s blood-soaked robe. Cull shot at the racing form but missed, the bullet lodging instead in the linoleum. Liam crept close as the cat hopped over Isaac and thrashed Cull’s leg with his claws and sank his fangs deep into the murderer’s skin. Another shot reverberated.
Liam kicked hard at Cull’s hand. The gun flew out of his hold and spun across the room, landing on the corner of the couch. Liam put all of his weight behind a palm strike and aimed straight at Cull’s nose. Bone crunched, and blood shot out like they were in a scene from a Quentin Tarantino movie. Cull dropped Tasha and grabbed his ruined face.
Tasha fought to inhale and writhed on the floor next to her father. A crimson trail followed Allison as she whimpered and crawled over to her family.
“Does hurting little girls make you feel like a big man?” Liam asked. He twisted to the side and kicked Cull’s stomach, driving him backward into the wall with a loud smack. His mother’s favorite mirror, a large rectangle framed with mahogany wood, shuddered with the impact and came crashing down. Glass shattered into thousands of pieces, the sound so deafening he could barely hear Cull gagging as he doubled over.
“Not breathing sucks, doesn’t it?” Liam checked Tasha, whose chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm now. Bruises darkened the delicate skin around her neck, and tears wet her cheeks. He’d make Cull pay for each and every mark on her body.
The silk scarf caught on a hangnail as his hands clenched over it. Time to put it to use. He roped it around Cull’s neck and twisted. But before he could tighten the scarf, Cull’s shocked expression changed to one of rage. He was ready to fight now. And he was much, much stronger than Liam.
ull ripped off the scarf and slammed his fist into Liam’s temple. The world went black for a precious second before another punch to his chin sent him sailing onto the couch. The revolver lay a few feet to his left. He stretched for it, but Cull’s knee landed hard on his elbow and trapped him. Coarse hands covered his neck and squeezed.
“Change of plans. You won’t be here when the cops arrive. They’ll think you’ve run. But you’re gonna meet the same end Stuart did. Except Shell Island is too good of a final resting place for you. I’m dumping you into the ocean, where nobody will find you.”
Liam jabbed Cull with his free hand, but the man didn’t flinch. His vision blurred, then turned red. In desperation he kicked out with his feet but met only empty space.
Moments away from passing out, the red haze of his vision morphed into a projection attached to Cull-the same image he’d seen of himself at Isaac’s office. In it, he stared ahead with glassy, bloodshot eyes.
A sense of disembodiment overtook Liam as he pawed at Cull’s face. His soul slowly seeped away from his body and joined the projection, like dew evaporating under the morning sun.
Three gunshots interrupted his death.
Cull’s head fractured in spectacular fashion. The top of his skull spun up toward the ceiling while his cheekbone splintered and sprayed to the side. He collapsed to the floor and revealed a large oval of blood on the wall behind him.
Liam grabbed his neck and coughed. While he still gulped for air, he turned and looked at the shooter.
The revolver hung from Joshua’s hands. A limp cigarette stuck to his lips. “Nobody gets to take you away from me.” He dropped the weapon to the floor and pushed his chin up toward Liam. “You owe me one.”
Soft sobs tore Liam’s eyes from Joshua. Covered in her mother’s blood, Tasha stooped next to her parents, with one hand on each. Facedown on the floor, Isaac didn’t move. RP rested a few inches away. Though the pool of blood n
ext to him grew, he lay still. Lifeless.
“Liam?” Tasha croaked. The strangling had turned her voice deep and scratchy.
He stumbled to her. “Are you okay?” The words stuck in his mouth with fear.
She nodded. “My throat hurts. But I can breathe. Mommy and Daddy need help.”
“I’ll be okay, baby girl. Go grab the phone,” Allison whispered.
Tasha ran into the kitchen to fetch the phone.
Tears streaked down Allison’s cheeks as she melted onto the cold floor and patted her unconscious husband. “Is he…?” She closed her eyes.
Liam girded himself for the worst and felt for Isaac’s pulse.
It beat steady and strong.
He gently shook his stepfather. Isaac moaned and opened his eyes. A nasty bump marked the spot where Cull had pistol-whipped him, and blood trickled down the back of his head.
The mechanical beeping of Allison dialing 9-1-1 filled the room. “I need some ambulances. Please hurry. An intruder attacked my family.” Her voice weakened as she spoke.
Isaac looked across the living room. His Turkish rug boasted crimson circles where none had been before, and bits of brain matter clung to the leather couch. Although the furniture hid most of Cull’s body, his feet stuck out, and they swam in his own blood. Balance still off-kilter, Isaac attempted to stand. It didn’t work. He slumped over Liam. “What happened? How’s Tasha?”
“Tasha will recover. And we took care of Cull. He can’t harm anybody again,” Liam said.
Smoke from Joshua’s cigarette funneled down to his stepfather’s head like a miniature tornado. He squatted next to Liam and thumped him on the back. “Isaac’s tougher to kill than a bad case of gonorrhea. At least he looks like shit.”
“Sorry to leave you with such a mess, but I’ve got to split before the authorities arrive,” Liam said.
“You can’t go. You’ll look guilty.” The string of small sentences took Isaac a while to form.
“I already look guilty. You thought yourself I killed Stuart. Now his partner is dead at our house. How will Security Forces read that?”
Sweat rolled down Isaac’s forehead. “We’ll explain. You won’t get in trouble.”
“Always the dreamer, Isaac. We both know I’ve already got too many strikes against me in the legal system to come out of this free. Yesterday, a police officer itched for a reason to lock me away after a simple car accident. There’s plenty more for them to work with today.”
“I wanted to help you.”
“I know.” Despite their endless tension, Liam heard the truth in Isaac’s words. Warmth spread across his chest. “And I’ll remember your support for the rest of my life. My mother and sister are blessed to have you.”
The keys in Isaac’s pocket jangled as his wobbly hand retrieved them. “Hurry. Ditch the car. Don’t go anywhere predictable.”
Liam’s fingers curled around the keys.
“Got a cousin in Milwaukee.” Isaac made another Herculean effort to steady himself. He placed his elbows on the floor, wincing from the effort. “Name’s Taraji Lowery. She’s a psychiatrist. She’ll help you.”
Gratitude filled Liam. “Thank you.”
“Go,” said Isaac. He placed his hand over Allison’s wound, and she pinched herself to stay conscious.
Liam scooped up RP’s body and held it close to his torso. Warm and sticky blood matted the cat’s fur.
“I’m sorry, pal. I wish it didn’t have to end this way.” He brushed his lips across the top of RP’s limp head and ran his fingers over the cat’s pointy ears.
Heart heavy with sorrow, and throat aching both from Cull’s attack and grief, he walked through the kitchen door and made his way to the cat’s favorite shrub. He pushed aside prickly branches and leaves. RP’s dark fur rippled in the night air as Liam laid him in his hiding place.
“Wherever you are, I hope they’ve got an endless supply of anoles. Enjoy the afterlife.” He ripped off a leaf and placed it like a laurel on RP’s head.
Goodbyes were the worst. He couldn’t repeat the process with his mother and sister. It would only distract them from surviving. Anyway, he’d never find the words to express what he felt for them. They already knew.
He crept back into the house and picked up his backpack and Mai’s portrait from where he’d dropped them earlier. Before leaving, he shot one last look at his family. Tasha fretted over their mother, and Allison focused all her energy on not dying. Isaac alone met his gaze.
The look he gave Liam, the same one he typically reserved for Tasha, almost made him stay. It held no enmity, no suspicion. One might even call it love.
Liam closed the door.
he bottom of Mai’s flip-flop smacked the parking lot surface. She popped her gum, stale now, and tapped the hood of her car. Liam was late. Very, very late.
A warm breeze whistled through the parking lot, bringing with it the scent of day-old seafood. Liam hated these types of place. The restaurant’s name, “I Sea Food,” flickered above the boxy building in neon letters.
She checked her phone for the hundredth time. It glowed 4:43. Dread crawled through her gut. Something was wrong. She’d debated for the past half hour if she should call the police and report him missing. But what if he’d simply changed his mind and slept in his bed? She doubted he’d appreciate a police check in the middle of the night after ditching his girlfriend.
She texted him again. “Where are you?”
Like the other eight texts she’d sent, she received no response. With an aggravated sigh she threw her phone into her purse.
A piece of paper fluttering in the corner of the parking lot caught her attention.
It’s just trash.
Still, she backed away from her car and walked toward the scratch paper, jammed into a crack in the concrete and held in place by a piece of crumbling rock. She lifted the rock and slid out the paper.
Her heart banged up to her throat as she unraveled the note. Liam wrote in small, precise script.
“Mai,
You can never know what you mean to me. I lived the last few years in darkness. Then I met you, and the light came back, blinding me with its brilliance. You reminded me what love can be. More importantly, you reminded me what I want it to be.
Sorry for bailing on you, but I have to disappear for a bit. Please know that I’m safe, and that I’ve conquered at least one of my many demons.
Thank you for believing in me. Your undying support is just one of the many ways in which you are far from normal. That’s right. I hate to tell you, but you will never, ever achieve mediocrity. Might as well face up to it now. Accept that one-way ticket to success. Once you get there, though, save some room for an Average Joe like me.
I’ll be checking on you. And one day soon, let’s try this again. I wish you all the best, Mai.
You deserve it.
Love, Liam.”
Mai stood in the parking lot reading and rereading the letter until the words bled together and her fingers stung with unanswered anticipation.
Okay, so going with Liam would’ve been a risky move. But he deserved more than what life had given him. He deserved somebody who believed in him, who wouldn’t abandon him despite his challenges. He deserved love.
She folded the letter into a neat square and slipped it in her purse. After a final glance at her dark phone screen, she bent into her car, slammed the door shut, and sobbed. For a chance lost. For a future that might not include Liam. For wishing she’d helped him more.
He had better stay safe. When he finally deigned to contact her again, she’d give him a piece of her mind. She could wait. Even if it took a long time.
unkered down behind the dumpster, Liam watched Mai’s taillights long after she drove away from the parking lot. The farther she drove from him, the more his chest constricted. But he wouldn’t drag her into his problems. Hopefully someday they could be together, but not yet.
His hiding place reeked of rotten fish and grease. It also
concealed his phone, which he’d turned off and pitched into the mounds of trash. Phones could be tracked, and the authorities would be after him. He didn’t intend to make it easy for them to find him.
He snuck out from behind the dumpster and picked up the rock that had anchored his note, tracing the crumbly indentations where Mai’s fingertips had touched. It’d taken her so long to find his note he’d feared she wouldn’t see it.
Much as he hated saying goodbye, he’d wanted to tell her in person. But that had carried risks. Risks such as Mai begging to come along, beautiful lips quivering, or, even worse, seeing the relief on her face when he told her he had to go alone. He’d hidden near the note in the hope she’d look up and see him. She hadn’t.
He dropped the rock and headed for his ride. He’d abandoned the Hyundai somewhere in Callaway, a small town between Tyndall AFB and Panama City. It’d taken a while, but after knocking around several neighborhoods, he’d found an unlocked vehicle with its keys stashed above the sun visor. He understood why the owner didn’t bother with security. The 19-ancient Ford Pinto, paint job faded a nice shade of hideous, had seen much better days.
The Pinto’s engine hiccupped and burped its way to life. The clunker would have to do until he got farther north. In another day or two, he’d sink the car in a pond or lake someplace and hop onto a Greyhound bus. Where exactly he’d end up, he didn’t know. Isaac had told him to be unpredictable. Finally, an order from his stepfather he could follow.
He settled in for a long drive and fumbled with the radio until he found an alternative rock station, a relative rarity in the Panhandle. Eddie Vedder’s voice sang out “Just Breathe” from the crackly radio. Liam took his advice and inhaled.
Allison would recover. He was sure of it. And though the evening must have traumatized Tasha, she’d be all right, especially since she had Isaac for a father. No matter how tough it got, he’d support her.
The start of a new adventure began today. Life could only get better from here on out. True, the adventure would be a lot better if Dr. Jen came with him. He’d never replace her. But he’d take what she’d taught him and apply it to his life. Her influence wouldn’t stop because he couldn’t see her anymore.
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