by Stacy Green
Chris had been in high school when Justin’s friend was murdered. He saw the news. Of course he recognized his mother. For some reason, he’d imagined her living life out on the road, probably still up to her bad deeds, but solitary unless she required help.
But never, ever with another little boy.
A little boy she taught how to kill.
At least that’s what Chris believed all these years while he watched his mother living another life less than an hour away. He thought about approaching her, but he couldn’t make himself do it. So he tried to get her attention in other ways, leaving scattered messages. But he never knew if she received them. She probably forgot he existed.
Chris reached into his pocket for the comforting silver coin. The nervous tick calmed him. One day he hoped to tell his mother why.
“What do you want?”
Justin looked like he wanted to run, as if he sensed the danger of being in Chris’s presence. “It’s Lucy.”
Chris fisted the coin. “What happened?”
“She’s safe for now, but she needs your help.”
And she came to Justin first. Lucy called Justin for help before Chris. After all he’d done for her, she chose someone else.
Just like Mother had.
“Take me to her.”
GONE TO DIE
Bonus Content
Chapter 2
The bullet tore through his skin like a branding iron, lodging in the tender muscle. Chris dropped to the ground, his knees screaming in protest. His head hit something hard, more pain shooting across his face. He lay face down, skin burning from the cold snow and lips already going numb. “Please. I’m not here to turn you in.”
“You think I’m going to believe that?” The raspy voice sounded like its owner choked on spit. “You’re not my grandson. He wouldn’t want to see his mother, not after all this time. You’re just some opportunist who thinks he’s going to get famous.”
His shoulder throbbing, Chris struggled for something to jog the man’s memory even as he heard his footsteps crunching closer. “No, Papa, it’s really me! I still have the coin you gave me that night in the barn when you told me to be quiet. The Lady Liberty one. I keep it with me at all times. It’s in my pocket!”
The old man stopped short, close enough Chris could easily reach out and yank his feet out from under him. Even with a gunshot wound to his dominant arm, Chris was younger and stronger and probably smarter. He could take the gun and dispatch the old man before he realized what was happening. But he wouldn’t. His grandfather was the one man he truly admired.
Sucking in rattling, phlegm-filled breaths, his grandfather eased up to him, nudging his head with his boot. “Roll over and look up at me.”
Chris obeyed, ignoring the barrel of the gun to focus on the face of the man he had assumed died years ago.
His grandfather gazed down at him, his face as cold as the gray winter sky. Wrinkled and creased like a prune, skin sallow, lungs full of gunk, he’d withered to a frail old man, but it was really him. Chris recognized the voice, the fast cadence of words, and the cornflower blue eyes that had been passed down to him.
Suddenly, Grandpa smiled, revealing a missing front tooth. “My boy.”
GONE TO DIE
Bonus Content
Chapter 7
Chris’s right shoulder burned like hell. His head ached from adrenaline and spiked blood pressure. But at least the wound was clean and bandaged. He opened the medicine cabinet and found nothing but over-the-counter pain pills. Dry-swallowing two of them, he shut the door and then stared at his reflection.
Blood still soaked his shirt and caked his neck. A bruise was forming on his temple where he’d fallen to the ground. He must have smacked his head against a rock.
He splashed water on his face, drying off with the grimy towel wedged into the corner of the sink. On the other side of the door, he heard his mother and grandfather speaking in low tones. She didn’t trust him. Grandpa did. He always knew better than she. And she clearly still didn’t believe that.
Mary would try to recruit him, try to convince him to play by her rules. Then she would threaten to hurt him if he didn’t. The thought made him laugh. Chris played by his rules alone. He hadn’t spent months–years–envisioning this moment only to cower to her.
He opened the door and stepped into the main area of the cabin. Mother Mary’s dark eyes shot to him, as black as he remembered. The curtain of black hair he always thought made her look like a witch now hung to her chin, and it was streaked with gray. Age hollowed out her face, but she still looked as strong as mean hog, as his grandfather liked to say.
“Mary.” He wouldn’t call her Mother.
She didn’t speak, just watched him with those coal-eyes.
“Chrissy.” Grandpa grinned that same sly smile from years ago. “Come sit with us and tell us what you’ve been up to.”
“We know what he’s been up to.” Mary’s voice sliced through him. Memories he’d stowed away began to overload on him. Her standing over the girls, laughing at them, taunting them. Tucking Chris into bed smelling like blood and bodily fluid.
“Is that right?” He kept his voice even, but he wanted to wrap his hands around her throat.
“Helping out that redheaded woman who destroyed everything for me. You two, along with your ungrateful brother, are the reason I’m in hiding.”
“He’s not my brother.” Chris’s hands clenched against his thighs. Blood pounded in his head, his shoulder pain forgotten. “He’s your son. But then again, you forget that so easily, don’t you?”
She glared at him. “Do you think I forgot you? I know you were in my house. You saw the basement. I kept your picture. I never forgot you.”
“But you left me,” Chris said. “You chose going on the run and living your depraved lifestyle over me.”
“I saved you.” Mary titled up her chin, her black eyes still hard. “Gave you a chance to be normal. What right do you have to complain? You’ve got an education, a nice job, a fancy car. Everything a man your age wants. Wouldn’t be the same if you stayed with me.”
He knew that. Growing up with Mary would have been a transient, miserable existence, especially once she remarried and sweet Justin came into the picture. “Why did you have another kid then?”
She scowled. “I didn’t want it. But my husband didn’t believe in abortion, and I couldn’t go to the clinic. Couldn’t risk my blood being drawn and entered into a system.”
Chris rolled his eyes. “That’s not how those places work.”
“I did what I had to do, just like I’ve always done.” She set her square jaw defiantly and then pointed to his grandfather. “And he messed up. Got us into an accident. I couldn’t take care of myself for a long time.”
Chris turned to his namesake. Alan sighed, his drooping posture making him look like a dying old man. “She’s right. Things have never been the same between her and me. I would have come after you boy, but I had to stay low. And she said leaving you alone was the best thing for you.”
“And look at you now,” Mary sneered. “Involved with a killer. Talk about irony.”
“I’m not involved with Lucy,” Chris said. “We’re friends.”
Mary laughed–a dry sound that made Chris wince. “But you don’t deny she’s a killer.”
“In self-defense.” Chris assumed his mother knew the story about Riley and Jake and what Lucy had to do in the garage. He doubted she knew anymore.
“Of course,” Mary said. “She’s not smart enough to get away with it any other way. Most people aren’t. Especially women.”
Chris’s turn to laugh now, and the sound came from deep within his belly. Mary’s face twisted into an expression of pure hatred. “What?”
“You haven’t got a clue about Lucy. She’s smarter and more cunning than you will ever be.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin, rolling it between his fingers. This one was his favorite, the 1986 silver Lady Liberty his gran
dfather gave him all those years ago. One day, Chris might pass it on to Lucy. “And so am I. Where’s the girl?”
Mary and his grandfather watched him intently, her with distrust and Grandpa with fascination.
“What are you talking about?” Mary demanded.
“Come on, Mary. I know there’s a girl stashed. There always is.”
GONE TO DIE
Bonus Content
Chapter 35
Grandpa wasn’t going to make it. Alan’s breathing worsened over the course of the drive, and his fever skyrocketed to the point Chris felt the heat emanating from him. The old man ducked in and out of consciousness, mumbling about things from long ago.
Chris popped the painkillers into his mouth. Thankfully cousin Lionel had a good stash, because his shoulder was killing him and a raging infection coursed through him from the bullet wound. At some point, he’d have to go to a hospital.
He looked at his mother sitting across from him in the freezing, dilapidated old house. The heat hadn’t been turned on because calling the gas company meant alerting authorities. Both Chris and Mary gave the extra blankets to Alan, but they didn’t seem to stop his shivering. “He’s going to die in the next couple of hours.”
Mary said nothing. He wondered if she could truly comprehend a life without the man who molded her into a sadistic killer.
“Where will you go next?”
Her coal-dark eyes rested on him. Her thin lips inched up. “That depends on you.”
He swallowed the last of his water. “How’s that?”
“I need a replacement for him.” She seemed to stall on the last word. “I’m getting older, and my way of life needs a partner.”
“You could always stop.”
She laughed, as hard and bitter as her heart. “You know that’s not an option.” Her gaze flickered to the Lady Liberty coin he palmed. “Do you remember your grandfather giving you that? He picked it up in New York the year you were born.”
“Of course I do. He’s the one who got me interested in coins. I wish he could have seen my collection.”
“Your collection’s not entirely complete anymore, is it?” Mary said slyly. “You’ve been leaving bits and pieces of it all over the tri-state area.”
“Put that together, did you?” He wondered if she expected him to be afraid of her again. Did she really think she had a bargaining chip? “When did you figure it out?”
“Pretty easy after what you helped with in the cabin,” she said. “I never knew you saw us when you were little.” Her chin quivered. “I wouldn’t have allowed it to happen. It should have stopped with me.”
He shrugged, immediately regretting it as the pain shot through the infected wound. “I prefer to think of it as a genetic trait that’s been refined with each generation.”
She must have caught the challenge in his voice. Her grayed eyebrows shot up, eyes blacker than black. “Really. You think so?”
“I know so,” he said simply. “Try me.”
She swallowed hard, her doughy body trying to hide the shiver. But he knew what she was seeing: the product of evil, a perfect specimen bred to do whatever he wanted on this earth. She was afraid of him. He smiled.
“So join me then,” she said, wrapping her arms around her for warmth. “We can be together as a family.”
He laughed softly and then sniffed the cold air. Alan had wet himself. It wouldn’t be long now. “No thanks. Our styles don’t fit. And I have someone else in mind.”
“Lucy.” His mother spat the word like it was poison. “She thinks she has morals. She thinks she’s on a crusade. And she doesn’t have the stamina to keep up with the things you’ve done.”
Chris stood up, steadying himself. The drugs were just beginning to kick in. He needed to get things done before he passed out. He shuffled over to his grandfather, whose labored breathing sounded like a chain being dragged over a concrete floor. His consciousness stolen by high fever, Alan existed only in delirium. Chris stuck his hand beneath the stinking blankets until he found the knife his grandfather kept tucked in a sheath on his hip. It was sharp and long enough to do the trick.
“What are you doing?” Mary asked.
Chris laid the knife on his grandfather’s chest and then gently slid the pillow out from underneath the man’s head. “An act of kindness.”
Mary screamed like a carousing panther as he started to smother the old man. She lunged at him, yanking his good arm with more strength than Chris would have imagined. His mother slammed against the floor, the back of her head hitting the hard wood with a satisfying thud.
Chris returned his attention to the pillow and pressed hard. Alan’s arms lifted in unison once, and then a second time. Then his body gave one final hard shudder, and the body that once housed his grandfather was dead.
“You sick bastard.” Mary pushed herself to a sitting position, her eyes glazed. “You killed him.”
“He was dying,” Chris said. “Why let him suffer? It’s the least I could do.”
Chris picked up the knife and went back to his chair. Mary watched, wary and finally realizing who’d been in charge all along. Several minutes of silence passed. Chris’s head began to feel lighter, and he knew he needed to finish things.
He raised the knife and pointed it as his mother. “Leave, and take him with you. I’m expecting someone.”
ALL FALL DOWN
Bonus Content
Chapter 5
Safe in his hiding place in the closet, he listened to Kelly singing off-key in her little kitchen. So happy these days, now that she was seeing his half brother. Two screwed up freaks who were perfect for each other. Such a shame Kelly allowed her personal security to go lax. She should know what was going on in her building. Getting someone to make a copy of the keys had been way too easy for Chris.
Adrenaline swelled through him. He’d fantasized about this moment for weeks, ever since Lucy decided to go straight and try to start over. His mother had been right after all. Lucy didn’t know who she was or what she was capable of.
Mostly because of the tone-deaf bitch on the other side of the wall. Lucy listened to her, adored her. Allowed Kelly to convince her she was something she wasn’t.
And then she left Chris, destroying months of work.
So Kelly needed to pay for her bad acts.
Lucy wouldn’t turn a blind eye the way she had with Shannon. She would come with a vengeance. Desire to save Kelly would blur her judgment and make her careless. He could enjoy the game a while longer before he asked for her hand in his partnership.
Another ridiculously sappy pop song came on, and Kelly cranked up the music, her lousy voice singing over it. No way she heard the faint creak of the closet door open.
In his heavy socks, his footsteps were silent as he slipped down the tiny hallway and peered around the corner. Her back to him, Kelly danced across the kitchen, her slim body moving in time with the music. At least she had rhythm.
So damned happy. Peace for her.
Not for long.
In two long strides, he crossed the small space and wrapped both strong arms around her petite frame, jamming his leg between hers before she could try to raise her foot. His right hand snaked around her throat, and he breathed into her ear.
“Hello, Kelly.”
ALL FALL DOWN
Bonus Content
Chapter 9
KELLY
I heard the sound of water before I smelled the river. I tried to flex my bound hands and feet, but it was no use. The zip ties dug into my flesh and made me even more helpless.
My head throbbed from Chris’s fists, but my pride hurt even worse. How did I not see this coming? I never really liked him, but I chalked it up to the lies he’d told Lucy and to the way he treated Justin.
Never once did I imagine he was capable of this.
The trunk lid slowly opened, revealing a cloudy black sky and the stink of the river. My body jerked reflexively, but I could only flop like a fish. Chris lee
red down at me, his chiseled face lit up by the trunk light. His blue eyes were the coldest things I’d ever seen.
“Do you know you’re the first live woman to ever ride in this trunk?” He asked, his smile soft and charming. Combined with his flat blue eyes, the effect was terrifying. “Shannon doesn’t count. I had to rent a car. But all the others were dead.”
My eyes flashed all around as I imagined the blood and body fluids and DNA that might be inside. He read my mind and started laughing.
“Please. I put them in plastic, and then I had the car detailed. No trace.”
I closed my eyes, refusing to let the tears squeeze out. Not for this bastard.
Chris lifted me out of the trunk and threw me over his shoulder. I caught a glimpse of his watch–it was the middle of the night. Even with all the blood rushing to my head, I squirmed and tried to figure out where we were.
“Don’t waste your strength,” he said. “We’re at the old Monteray Cemetery. Or what’s left of it. Fucking river.”
My body went cold, and I didn’t think the coldness had nothing to do with the blood pooling in my face. The Monteray Cemetery had vaults, some still accessible.
I slammed my tied wrists into the small of Chris’s back as hard as I could. His knees buckled, and he dropped me onto the soaking wet grass. Shocked at sudden freedom, I tried to slither away even as I struggled to gnaw the duct tape off my mouth.
His laughter turned me to mush. “You don’t seriously think you can get away, do you?” He caught me by the tied ankles and started dragging me through the muck. Weeds and filth streaked my face, the stench of sour grass filling my lungs.
“See, this is my family plot,” he said. “Or used to be. My grandpa Kent told me all about it when I was a kid. Before everything went wrong. My ancestors are buried in one of the vaults. He was a Civil War hero.”
I wanted to ask if that was before the crazy gene kicked in to his lineage, but the duct tape saved me from those consequences.