Truth

by A. C. Bextor

  “You know what he meant to her,” Hoss whispers, and Viktor winces briefly at the mention of ‘her’ being his own sister, Ursa.

  “I know what he put her through. I also know she’d be appalled by his actions. He hurt a woman. More importantly, my woman.” Viktor stops speaking long enough to take in a breath. “It’s a blessing Ursa isn’t here today.”

  Knowing he shouldn’t dare to challenge Viktor, Hoss sits back down and assumes his prior position. From here, I can’t make out the words he’s speaking to his long-since-dead wife.

  This is a part of Hoss I don’t recognize.

  The man I’ve come to know is capable of anything, including carrying the heavy burden, which Hangar has given him to bear. No, this Hoss is beaten. He’s a man who’s been left on Earth when he wants nothing more than to be with his dead wife.

  Turning to me, I see a difference in Viktor I hadn’t noticed before. His eyes have grown soft, almost reminiscent. When he speaks, I’m left confused. “Hangar touched Casey. He put his hands around her neck, Hoss. Why was he allowed near her?”

  What the fuck?

  “I don’t know how he got to her,” Hoss pleads, raising his attention back to Viktor and me standing near the door. “I truly have no idea. Maybe Dee Dee let him…”

  Dee Dee had a key. Viktor knew this because I’d told him. I gave it back.

  Viktor doesn’t let Hoss continue his explanation. “I wouldn’t be standing here, ready to take his blood, had he not gone after Anna. Anna was never to be touched, and I made that clear my first day here, did I not?”

  “You did,” Hoss begins, but doesn’t stop. “Anna will be fine.”

  Hoss’ reaction to Viktor’s statement of Anna’s condition was the wrong thing to say.

  As he clutches the blade in the palm of his hand, Viktor takes quick steps in Hangar’s direction, whose eyes widen in fear. His body jolts again, stepping back as far as he can while still bound at the wrist. Judging by the terror in Hangar’s eyes as he screams through his gag, even he can see Viktor has uncharacteristically lost all self-control.

  Hoss stands to his feet in attention. Cilas moves forward, bracing his hands on Hoss’ shoulders to hold him in place. The air grows even thicker with tension.

  The blade enters Hangar’s gut in one smooth move. Viktor isn’t a large man, but the power he just sent into the flesh of Hangar’s body is a clear indication that his vengeance for Anna is racing through his body; thick and powerful, it sure as fuck won’t be denied.

  Hangar gasps for air through the scarf. The muffled pleas are left unanswered as Viktor removes the blade then shoves it in once more, this time sending it piercing into Hangar’s thigh. He’s bleeding profusely, the rush of blood falling down his body after it seeps into his own torn clothes.

  “Jesus Christ, I can’t…” Hoss’ usually strong presence, sometimes jovial and sometimes angered, shrinks.

  “He dies today, my brother,” Viktor confirms.

  “I know,” Hoss answers back. His eyes come to his son. Hangar is conscious, but his frame is still. “I tried so hard with you, Hang. I did. I tried to make you somethin’ you weren’t. I loved your mother. She was everything…” His voice trails off and he looks to the ground in shame. “Fuck, but I always loved her.”

  “I loved her, as well. She was my sister,” Viktor adds. “And it pains me to think she’s watching now. But it’s time, Hoss. Time to end this.”

  Hoss nods, keeping his focus to the floor. “I know.”

  Cleaning the blade of the knife with an old rag he picks up from the table, Viktor stands in front of Hangar in such a way you know he’s admiring what his rage had caused him to do. “The question I have for you, dear brother, is whose hands is he to die by?”

  He’s giving Hoss a choice?

  Hoss’ eyes come to mine, and the look of realization is completely lost on me. I’m confused and uncertain about the silent conversation being discussed between them.

  “Max,” Hoss calls for my attention.

  “Hoss,” I state back in response.

  “Perhaps you’d like to watch as I reward someone for their loyalty?” Viktor asks Hoss directly.

  Hoss breathes out again. At first, I believe this is only meant as a plea for me not to do Viktor’s bidding.

  I find my assumption was wrong.

  “Marie,” Hoss whispers to himself and with it, I feel my pulse race.

  “What about her?” I question. I don’t understand what she has to do with anything.

  “Tell him,” Viktor prods. The power of his demand weighs heavily as my mind is still lost in a sea of confusion.

  “He loved her,” Hoss claims openly.

  “Who?” I ask in return. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “Hangar loved her,” he says again, as if I know what it means.

  With the statement sitting like a sinking ship in the center of the room, my eyes move to Hangar. The light in his eyes fades as the blood around his stab wounds thickens with each beat of his nearly dead heart.

  “Hangar loved your sister,” Hoss finishes.

  Addressing me, Viktor begins unraveling his advice as though I can concentrate on hearing it. “This is the truth, my friend. It’s what you said you were after all along. But knowing the truth, as you’re about to, will change how you see your life and how you’ve come to accept it. You can’t go back to being who you were once you know.”

  Turning my glare to Viktor, I don’t miss the fact I’m asking a criminal to give me his honest truth, whatever it may be. “Fuck your philosophy lesson, Mr. Koslov. Just tell me what the fuck is happening.”

  Viktor nods. “Ah,” he replies to my address. “Back to formality,” he observes next. “You came here not long ago to ensure the safety of Casey. Am I wrong?”

  He’s not wrong, but Casey has nothing to do with what’s here and now.

  “Yes, for Casey,” I state to clarify. “Tell me what the fuck this has to do with Marie.”

  “Don’t you see?”

  I’m beginning to, but I want it laid out. My eyes move to Hoss, who’s now refusing to look at me, his glare set on Viktor. Next I look to Cilas, whose jaw is ticking as much as his hands are trembling. I don’t understand Cilas’ reaction, but I don’t stop to try and understand.

  Viktor continues. “When Hangar saw your face show up here, he was stupid enough to brag to Hoss in front of me of what he had done to Marie all those years ago. He also didn’t realize he was sealing his own fate. He hurt an innocent girl.”

  “Come again?” I seethe with narrowed eyes.

  Viktor continues without pause. “I’ve hated Hangar since he was a child. Even before Ursa passed, Hangar was a waste to this world.”

  My mind reeling with only pieces of new information, I hiss, “What the fuck?”

  “Hangar is the one who killed Marie,” Hoss interrupts Viktor’s word games. “Hangar knew who you were. He hurt…”

  “He shouldn’t have touched my girls!” Viktor’s voice explodes into the room. “He’s an animal, Hoss. You know this.”

  Finally, reaching his breaking point, Hoss stands and points to Viktor. “He’s your blood! He’s your sister’s son.”

  I take two steps toward Hoss, willing him to tell me it’s a lie. I want him to tell me I haven’t been here, in this shit hole, all the while being in the company of the man who killed my sister.

  My mind pieces together one reaction at a time. Hangar hated me when I arrived. He knew who I was. He touched Casey, knowing what she was to me. The ‘M’ on his carved stomach. The same with his ownership of Dee Dee and the abuse she suffered at his hands.

  Pulling me from my thoughts, Hoss starts in with terseness in his voice. “I told you about a girl he loved years ago. He used to hang around at the convenience store where she worked. He cared about her.”

  “So, he fucking killed her?” I snap out, still processing what’s been said.

  My gaze turns to Hangar. He’s
standing limp, the rope holding his weight. His hands are losing color since he’s no longer able to balance on his own.

  Hoss’ next statement comes out more forceful than the last. “He told her he’d make her happy, but she refused him. Marie was the only woman I’d ever seen Hangar care about.”

  “Of course she refused him, Hoss! He’s a sadistic fuck and you protected him,” I rage, hearing it echo and reverberate throughout the room.

  “He’s Ursa’s son,” Hoss snaps back in return. “And he’s my family.”

  “He’s a killer who abuses women,” Viktor puts in. “Ursa would be ashamed.”

  Without further processing the events that have unfolded and without caring what happens to me after, I launch from where I stand and head in Hoss’ direction. Cilas reacts quickly, moving to stand in front of him before I’m able to get there.

  Using all of this strength, Cilas holds me at arm’s length, away from Hoss as I blast, not caring about the consequences, “You knew! You fucking knew he butchered my sister. Everything you said about Marie before was bullshit!”

  “It wasn’t,” Hoss’ voice, now seemingly soft and haunted, breaks out. “I told you what I knew of Marie when you came to Creed the first time. And I stand by what I said. She was a good girl.”

  “Like Casey?” Viktor voices from behind me, his disposition far more collected than mine.

  When I feel my body being jolted, pushed further back from the man I hate almost as much as his son, I look up to Cilas. His eyes are dark, hooded, and as always, angered.

  “You knew, too,” I accuse him.

  Cilas shakes his head in return, but I don’t believe him. And it wouldn’t matter if I did.

  “Max,” Viktor calls for my attention. “Do not lower yourself to the standards of these men. It wasn’t Hoss who took your Marie from you. It was Hangar.”

  Turning my glare toward Hangar then back to Viktor, I see Viktor holding the knife in my direction. “When I told you I owed you for what you did for Anna, I meant it. But more, I want more from you.”

  “What the fuck could I possibly give you?” I snap.

  Viktor nods. “Your loyalty or your life. Your allegiance to me, as promised, or you’ll never see Casey again. At least not in this life, anyway.”

  Closing my eyes, I picture Marie. Her face, smiling happily, hits my memory as my chest constricts, taking my breath with it.

  Can’t say I understand why someone would take away all that beauty the way they did. Hoss’ words sink in as I remember what he said when I first came to Creed.

  Visions of my parents’ desolate faces rush my veins, causing my blood to heat within them.

  My dad, even after all these years away, understood my pain. We all deal with loss our own way. You’ve been dealin’ with it on your own for a while, I suspect.

  Casey’s small form, wrapped so desperately around mine, unknowingly begging me to protect her.

  I tried so hard to keep her safe, to give her a chance at a life outside of this one. I’ll call you ‘monkey’ if you don’t mind, though. It suits you.

  Marie’s lifeless body, losing its blood, losing her soul, which she once so strongly carried.

  You still miss her, Em had so rightfully observed.

  Every day, Em. I think about her and it still hurts.

  Pushing Cilas off, I move back toward Viktor. I grab the knife by the blade, feeling it pierce my skin as my fingers wrap around it. Then I make my way to Hangar. His death should be prolonged, the torture of it sweet. I know this, but he doesn’t deserve another breath.

  Once I’ve ripped the gag from his mouth, his head jerks and slowly lifts to mine.

  “Say it,” I seethe, moving my face closer to his. “Tell me what you did to her.”

  A slow, creeping smile, even in the midst of his own certain death, begins to form around his words and sickens my already furious disposition. “I played with her a while,” he tells me, as if he’s bragging. My hand grips the blade, my mind forcing back images as he voices his next confession. “She cried out. She asked for her daddy. By the time I finished with her, people in this town had no choice but to believe it was a street gang or some serial-killing drifter who did it.” With his smile still in place, he laughs softly. “Even almost dead, though, she still asked for you.”

  All the cover-ups, lies, and torturous deceit come to me at once. I reach out, grasp his hair in a rough pull, and while looking into the eyes of an already near dead man, the blade in my hand rips through his skin, exposing his now open throat completely.

  I don’t hear the despair rushing out of Hoss as he wails into the room. Nor do I hear Viktor clapping behind me in congratulations. I don’t listen for Cilas, his boots hitting the floor in my direction.

  I only hear Marie’s voice calling to me, telling me her murdered soul has finally been set free.

  The heavy, invisible chains of tragedy, loss, and regret have been unlocked, yet I still don’t feel free.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “Come here, Em,” I clip my demand again, not taking her relevant concern regarding my mood into consideration.

  “What’s wrong?” she asks as she stands in the kitchen and carefully watches me wait near the front door.

  Em knows me, so it’s not hard for her to sense something isn’t right. Because of this, my body aches to be close to her, to connect with her in a way it always has before. She has the power to bring life back into my spiritually shattered body.

  I’m drowning in a sea of self-loathing and doubt.

  And I can’t fucking breathe.

  After I left Creed, thoughts of my past life held fast to the forefront of my mind. I couldn’t drum up any good memories as the bad ones one remained so clear and untouched.

  Before coming home, I drove past my parents’ house. Picturing the two of them, sitting on their porch swing, drinking iced tea in the sun as they watched Marie and me play catch or ride our bikes near them, were all but lost in the haze of mental anguish as only visions of her funeral and saying goodbye were left at full attention.

  Driving by the place where Marie was left years ago didn’t help. Her body left behind, brutalized and buried, that winter morning was all I accepted as I stared at her stone from the road leading up to her final resting place. I couldn’t even muster the strength to tell her she was finally free.

  By then, the only place I wanted to be was home with Emma.

  When I rounded my bike into the apartment complex, my hands were shaking with mental exhaustion and my heart was throbbing in brazen pain. I’d never experienced anything like that before. It was foreign and unwanted.

  I took a man’s life tonight. Although it was a life that shouldn’t have been spared, he died at my hands nonetheless.

  “Let me feel you,” I whisper roughly, still longing to be near her.

  “Max, wait,” she pleads without moving an inch from her spot. “What’s happened? Is Casey okay? Did something happen to her?” she asks with alarm.

  Finally conceding she’s not about to come closer without an explanation, I walk toward her. My hands touch her face, lifting it gently and allowing my eyes to search hers for the gentleness I’ve come to rely on.

  “Is it Casey? Is she why you’re…”

  I don’t give her a chance to finish. “She’s okay.”

  Her relief is immediate. She exhales a breath. “Then…”

  “Casey’s fine,” I whisper, leaning in to meet my lips with hers.

  When she pulls away, her voice is shaking as much as my hands still are. “Please, talk to me.”

  “I killed a man,” I confess out loud for the first time, then wait for a response. Her audible gasp as she stands in front of me is all I’m granted. “Hangar. He’s the man who killed Marie.”

  “Oh, my God,” she whispers.

  “He had hurt Casey, too. I’m sure of it now.”

  “Max,” she starts, but I don’t allow her to continue.

  “I’ll die
for her, Em. After what happened...”

  I thought about this as I was driving around tonight. I’ve come to realize that if this comes down to my life for hers, there wouldn’t be a decision to be made.

  “If it comes down to me or Casey…” I start.

  “Max, no,” she stops me.

  I begin again, holding her in a determined stare. “If it comes down to my life for hers, I want you to tell me you’d do the same.”

  “Of course, but Max…”

  “The things I heard tonight,” I cut her off. I close my eyes in remembrance and feel more of the circumstance’s weight bear down on my already tired shoulders.

  “I’ve always known who you were deep inside,” she reminds me. “And I’ve always known what you’d do to protect those you love. Even when I was young, before Marie died, I thought you were invincible.”

  Looking down, I utter quietly between us, “I’m not a hero. I never wanted anything more than what God thought fit to give me, Emma. I swear that to you. I never thought, in all these years of feeling what I did after Marie died, he’d offer me a chance to be happy again.”

  “I love you,” she whispers, looking ahead at my chest.

  My hands move to her waist, holding her to me tighter than needed for only a moment.

  Moving the hair that’s falling around her face, I hold the back of her neck and bend to kiss the crown of her head. “I know you do.”

  “And I trust you.” Em watches closely as I swallow hard.

  “Okay, baby,” I assure her quietly as I take in what she’s said.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  After waking this morning and spending most of the day with Em, I knew, although not wanting to, I had to get back to Creed. Most of our time together was spent in silence. I drew from her the strength I needed and she gave it without question. She didn’t pressure me with questions, even though I knew I’d be leaving her with many.

  Before finally heading out, I explained to her that I’d probably not be back for a while and didn’t let on that according to my discussion with Aimes, we’d start moving on this soon. I didn’t want our last moments to be plagued with uncertainty and doubt. Instead, I went to my room before I left and packed, including the gun I kept in my nightstand, which I’d never brought into Creed before. Once I told her goodbye, I left her standing alone in the doorway with all of her hope still between us.