“Tatum Bennett, you will do no such thing! You’re talented, and you need to see where this takes you. Besides, I never intended to stay here. I’m not sure what my next step is, but I know this isn’t where I end up.”
“Oh, yeah?”
Rylan leaves me hanging, but I remain cool while I wait for her to explain.
“Been thinking about checking out the desert. I’m a Florida girl, and winter will be here before we know it. I’d never survive a New England frost.” Her response is addressed to Tatum, which drives me crazy.
“What are you saying, Little Bird?” I demand her attention.
“My place is with you. There is no place I’d rather be than wherever you are. Take the job, and I’m coming with you.”
Abruptly, I stand, and my chair dumps over in my excitement. I pull Rylan from her seat and hoist her up. Her fingers lock around my neck, and her legs cling to my waist. I kiss her soft lips in the middle of the almost empty bar. A few of the day drinkers clap their hands at our display. Her mouth is sweet, like always, and her tongue teases mine.
“Thank you,” I whisper against her cheek.
“When do we leave?” she asks while rubbing her hands against my beard.
“In a few days.”
“You and me on the open road, wreaking havoc in each new town we stay a while in. I like the sound of that. Are you going to be able to put up with me full-time in your house on wheels? My adorability might wear off. The crazy sex could become predictable.”
“Your perception of yourself is a little skewed. Sexy, driven, impulsive, and diabolical are all words I would use to describe you, but rarely are you adorable.”
She playfully smacks the side of my head.
“As for the sex, I don’t think anything about you and me, including our kinky side, could ever become predictable.”
“Promise?” Her voice shakes a little, as if she’s consumed by the worry that we’ll forget about the darkness that brought us together.
“I promise, and a friend of mine recently taught me how important my promises are, so you never have to worry about me breaking my word to you. We’ll always be the people we found here in Maplefield. Our location won’t change that.”
You can take us out of the small town filled with secrets, but you can’t take the dark and twisted out of our world. I mean every word, but Rylan still seems reserved about something.
Our night continues, and Rylan pulls back into herself. The change-of-locations conversation distracted her from her somber mood for a little while, but with each minute that passes, Rylan gets a little quieter, slightly more detached. I can’t put my finger on it, but something is up with her.
Day turns into night, and the bar fills with people about the time we call it a night. Tatum holds on to Rylan and cries when they say good-bye even though they’ll see each other again before we go our separate directions. With all three of us on the road, we’ll probably see Tatum a lot more than if she were here.
Rylan and I go back to her place, and she gets even quieter. I take a shower, and she’s asleep before I get out.
Part of me wonders if she’s anxious about her decision to leave with me. Despite what we’ve been through, it’s true that we haven’t known each other that long, and we’re not only moving in together, but also taking off on a wild adventure. It’s quick. It’s rash, but it’s us.
I think Rylan sees that, too, but maybe she has doubts. I get into bed beside her and pull her into my arms. Her breathing is slow and heavy. Her hair frames her face, and a few wild pieces rest in front of her closed eyes. The palms of my hands move over her curves. Her skin is soft against my rough hands. I fall asleep, thinking about tomorrow and all the days after with the woman in my arms.
Sound. Asleep.
Knocked out until morning.
The sun is harsh when I open my eyes. The aroma of lavender surrounds me. It smells like Rylan. My hand glides against the sheets to pull her closer to me, but I reach the edge of the bed with no luck. I turn my face, looking for her, but she’s gone. Brushing the sleep from my eyes, I get up to investigate.
She isn’t here.
Something inside me tells me exactly where to find her.
Rylan
My hands shake.
Toxic energy pours out of me.
My body is deprived of sleep.
I’d been consumed by this since all the talk about the job being over. My thoughts had been stuck on a continuous loop and had eaten at me until I let them free. Until I took my innermost demons and let them out to play, let them come to fruition.
The job is over.
There is no more avengement to seek in this town. I’ve made sure of it. All of the people who hurt Aria are gone and will never hurt anyone ever again.
“Rylan.”
Am I imagining Callen’s voice? He can’t be here.
In my rabid state, I turn to face the voice behind me, and the evidence of what I’ve done drips from my hands and collects under my feet. Once again, my hands are stained crimson. The early morning sun beats down on my back, and birds chirp, ready for a new day. The tall trees that surround us hide my secrets from the rest of the world. But my darkness shows through to the man who knew exactly where to find me when he woke alone this morning. Callen doesn’t show a bit of surprise as I face him in the woods where we’ve killed before.
“She had to die,” I confess.
“You should have talked to me first, Rylan. The cops are looking for a reason to bust you. Willy sacrificed himself for you, and we can’t just throw that away.”
The mention of Willy and his sacrifice claws at my heart, but I can only summon a little bit of guilt.
“She had to die,” I repeat the only thing that’s been cycling through my mind for days.
“I get that, but we needed a plan first.”
He comes to my side and takes the knife, which is soaked in Margaret Elena Franklin’s blood, from my grasp. Her sliced and mutilated body lies dead on my other side. She can’t hurt anyone again either. I made sure of it the second I cut out her tongue.
“I made her write a suicide note. I made her tell the truth and confess that she helped them cover up Aria’s death. She wrote down all the details she knew about what those men did to her and the reasons why she changed her police statement. The world will know what these people did to Aria. They couldn’t get away with it. I couldn’t let them.” My words are sincere, even during my worst of intentions.
“A note is good, but in this case, we’ll need them to find a body, and one look at this one will tell them it wasn’t a suicide.”
I’ve messed up again. “Can you fix this?”
“You know I can.” He leans down for a better look at the body, which has been carved and sliced from scalp to toe. He’s frustrated with me, but he can’t hide the pride radiating from him over my levels of violence.
“I love you, Callen.”
“I love you, too, Rylan.”
I look down at Margaret’s body and let the words fall from my lips. “I don’t know if I can stop, Callen. My need isn’t just about this job anymore. It’s who I am.”
“What does that mean exactly?”
“I don’t want to stop. I need to keep the death in my life. I’ll always crave the brutality. I don’t want the end of this job to mean I’ll never kill again. Bad people are everywhere, in every town and around every corner. I want to hold their lives in my hands, make them beg, and then take everything away from them. I want to be worshipped by your lips, your hands, all of you, while I do it.”
“Rylan, we can do that. I’d love for that to be our life. We can do whatever you want and go wherever that takes us. But you need to stop being so impulsive, and you need to start filling me in more before you pick up the weapon. If we do this, we do it as a team. I’ll always have your back, but I’d like to go in with a plan instead of cleaning up the aftermath of a whim. Can you do that? Can you let me in?”
“I can,
and I will. I promise you. We’re a team from here on out, our love and always.”
Blood discolors Callen’s short beard when I touch my hand to his cheek, and I worry my bottom lip between my teeth while Callen looks down at me sternly.
“Good girl, Little Bird.”
He breaks up the seriousness and kisses me, and more blood smears between us.
I pull back in his arms to lay down one more condition. “But only bad people, Callen.”
“Okay, the bad, I promise. Only the bad people, the worst of mankind.”
We’ll move on from Maplefield in just two days. Once we’re in that RV, we’ll leave this town in our rearview mirror. Each new town we see will hold all the possibilities in the world. And I’m pretty damn optimistic about the life we’ll have together. One where we welcome the best things the world has to offer.
Debauchery.
Sex. Lust. Excess.
Forbidden secrets.
Death.
And love. Always love.
Rylan
My hand is steady as I pick up the pen.
Aria,
My motives have arguably been a bit selfish, but I needed this in order to mourn you.
The presentation of Number Five’s body at the club was once again for me. I wanted to start my new life, including my sexual exploration with the death of one of the men who took you from me. Number Four at Harkness Tower was for your parents. They always loved the architecture of the Yale campus, and the structures always seemed symbolic to them of your success. The body of Number Three being left at Lighthouse Point Park was for you. You told me numerous times that it was your favorite place in New Haven. You loved carousels since the first time we went to Disney. I know you saw them as a representation of idealistic fairy tales. Number Two was left at Pond Lily Nature Preserve, and that was for us. It was the place you always wanted to show me, where you spoke of taking me one day. I’ve been there, Aria, and it’s just as beautiful as you told me. My plans for the reveal of Number One were too dangerous with the cops watching me but it doesn’t matter because they’re gone. All of those that hurt you are dead.
I’m certain that this path of retribution isn’t what you would have chosen for me, but I have a strong sense that I have your understanding. Callen is my clear sign of your acceptance. I have zero doubt about who sent him to me, considering this path brought me straight into his arms. You always watched over me, and you’re still doing it. Thank you for leading me to him. He shows me a love I’ve never known before.
Do something for me…I know I’m in no position to be asking favors, but you’ve never been one to keep score, so I’m going to. Take care of Willy for me. I know he feels like what happened was partially his fault, but he has a kind heart. In a world where so many people have let me down countless times, this man has shown me the good within humanity. Without hesitation, he’s sacrificed everything for a screwed up girl he barely knows.
I think you can finally stop worrying about me. I’m good. Better than good.
I’m going to live a life loved and love back just as fiercely. Callen is connected to my soul, twisted and ingrained within me. Tatum makes my heart feel light again. And, if your death has taught me anything, it’s that true friendship has no bounds. She and I will always be connected.
Just like you and me.
You’re with me.
I love you more than ice cream.
Rylan
Tears of life, joy, and sorrow hit the page as I end the letter to the girl in my heart.
Rylan
Eight Years Later
The smell of freshly mowed grass hangs in the afternoon air. The sun is hidden behind masses of black clouds, and a light sprinkle of rain hits my skin. I fight to keep my heels from wedging into the grass of the cemetery as I walk. My black dress is conservative and appropriate for the circumstances that brought me back to Maplefield.
I stop in front of the marble headstone.
I’ve traveled through most of the states since leaving here almost a decade ago. I’ve seen the mountains and the country and been to both big cities and small towns. On my return, I’m no longer the same girl that I was when I first came. I’m no longer drowning in grief and grudges. I’ve tamed my impulses—a bit—at least, enough not to force Callen to have to clean up my messes. I’ve seen, heard, and done a lot since then.
I’ve loved—hard and unconditionally.
I’ve fucked—everywhere and anywhere, fast and slow.
I’ve found friendship—Tatum is part of my life, no matter where we are on the map.
I’ve killed—brutally and mercifully.
I’ve done it all with Callen by my side.
This is no different. His fingers soothingly stroke the back of my neck. It’s not the first time we’ve been back in the last eight years, but it’ll probably be the last. Our only tie to Maplefield finally escaped the imprisonment he chose so that he could save us. An oak tree sits to the side of Willy’s and Louise’s side-by-side graves. We look down at the words Callen picked out for our friend.
WILLY RUSSO
HE’S GONE HOME TO FIND PEACE WITH HIS LOUISE.
There is no funeral. No one else is even coming to visit. Callen and I killed his only family he had left, but that’s okay because he’s back with his love again. The prison gave us a hard time about releasing his body, but Callen wouldn’t have it any other way. He manipulated, lied, and did whatever was necessary in the petition to the courts. They didn’t think a man charged with his crimes deserved a proper burial. Or they just wanted to give us a hard time.
Congregating in a church to pay respects is always morose. Saying good-bye beside a grave will forever be heartbreaking. This is a far cry from my father’s funeral, though equally as somber. Hundreds of people came from all walks of life. Tears of remembrance and cries of sorrow filled the church. Flowers from loved ones flooded his graveside. He was well liked, loved, and admired. He was a friend, a husband, and a father. That day was hard for me, as were a lot of the days after. His death still plagues my heart, but I am strong and love the person I am today. His death, no matter how much it hurt, was part of shaping me.
But, like Willy, there was no church for my mom’s funeral. The same priest who proudly performed my father’s service politely turned me away with a subtle shake of his head. People cried, but they also whispered. The air was filled with hushed gossip and public fodder. She was a grieving widow, a struggling mother, and a conflicted addict. I’ve learned to let it go. My grudges would only hold me in my past. I’m the one that has to live with the emotions I chose to cling to when it comes to my mother’s choices in life and her decision to end it. I choose to move on. I pick happiness.
People like Willy make seeing the good easier.
“Should we say something?” I ask Callen.
He’s been quiet all day, but he clears his throat. “Family isn’t about blood. It’s about being there for the ones you care about. The people who create us, the ones we create—those bonds don’t guarantee love. Willy, I once told you that love wasn’t for me, but that was because I had never felt its power. Thank you for teaching me what love is and for giving me the example I need to love Rylan the way she deserves.”
I wrap my arms around his middle and look up at his face. The ruthless man, the killer, isn’t visible today.
Callen and I haven’t suddenly reformed over the years. We kill over and over again. We continue to play with our victims, and we get each other off on the spilled blood. It’s a life I never imagined, but I wouldn’t change one thing, not even a second.
I’ve gotten to know a man who adores me and always treats me well. Unless a paddle is involved, and I’m asking for it, that is.
Beside Willy’s grave, I only see the man who loved and lost his friend.
I see my best friend. The man I could never envision my life without.
“I love you, Callen.”
“I love you too, Little Bird.” His hold tend
erly grips around my neck.
“Thank you, Willy,” I speak softly into Callen’s shirt.
Willy protected my freedom so that I could continue to fly, which I have.
For us, there is no black or white, light or dark, good or evil; there is only us. We’re a chaotic mix of all of it.
“Ready?” Callen asks.
“Ready.”
We leave Willy with Louise.
I couldn’t be more grateful for everything he’s done for me, for us.
We pull away from the cemetery, but we’ll never really leave Willy behind.
The End
The Killing of Number Five
Callen
Number Five was easy enough to catch off guard. I was waiting for him when he got home from a long day at the office. He was working his way to a partner position at a law firm but not anymore. Not after tonight.
He drools through the ball gag in his mouth. I got lucky with that prop. The gag was his. I found it in his bedside drawer. His eyes plead for benevolence as tears streak down his face. He’ll be gone soon, and there is nothing that can change that. He really must have pissed someone off. My instructions were clear; I am to make him suffer and then carve his skin before death.
I pull out a carving knife, ready to butcher him like a pig, as I straddle his hips, so I can hold him still as I work. Snot runs from his nose while he panics, but my movements are slow and precise. The blade, which is razor-sharp, doesn’t need much urging to break skin, and I have to remind myself not to press too hard. Not to kill him too quickly.
Blood gushes from his wounds and colors his flesh while I carve a horizontal line into his chest. His muffled screams don’t deter me, and I slice until the number five brands his torso.
Now, I can move on…
The black latex gloves I’m wearing stretch around my knuckles as I press against his windpipe. Slight gasping noises release from his throat, and I press harder, slicing slowly through skin, muscles, and tendons. A foul odor reaches my nose, and I look at the man in disgust. He actually just shit himself.
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