by L. C. Moon
He wallowed in holdup, was laughed off as a conspiracy theorist. He vowed he would not let them get away. His prayers were answered in the form of an auspicious black Lexus waiting for him upon his release. It seemed the Monster had made more than one enemy, even within his own organization. He was not surprised. He was terrified.
He was to return to the Malkin residence and await the call to get the go-ahead. The call would confirm that Maxwell had spoken with Kayne and that Louis’s suspicions had been confirmed and the hit set up. All day he paced around, checking his phone a hundred times a minute under the curious stares of Mrs. Malkin. All evening, he resisted his urge to confront the Monster. Under no circumstance was he to show suspicion and inquire about Genevieve’s situation. He couldn’t help asking one question, see if the Monster would lie to his face; he hadn’t.
He got the call and received Kayne’s instructions as predicted by Maxwell. He followed the Monster and found the gun hidden behind the flower pot as advised. He would get his vengeance, as promised.
The moment Kayne turned around, his shaky fingers pulled the trigger of their own.
“She’s dead! She’s dead!” Louis screamed hysterically.
Kayne looked at his chest, saw his own blood coloring his shirt. When he looked back up, his eyes seemed to be carrying the weight of the world, a crooked smile curving his lips.
“You killed her! She was everything! Everything! You used her as a whore! And you killed her!” Louis yelled insanely, his sweet face distorted in that of a manic clown.
Kayne growled at the sharp pain, felt his own blood rising in his chest, turning on him as well, choking him. He struggled to breathe, coughing blood with each breath, and slowly let himself fall to the ground. A part of him felt at peace, a part of him always knew, this was the only end befitting a Monster. He felt no resentment toward the boy. In his shoes, he would’ve done the same. Hell, he would’ve tortured him for days and laughed when he would have begged for death. He would have brought him back to life just so he could do it all over again.
“She was everything… .” Louis’s voice cracked, his fury dissipating, abandoning him to his unbearable pain. He let himself cry. He was about to speak again when another gunshot was heard. He didn’t have time to react. The shot was precise, aimed right between his eyes. He fell instantly to the ground.
“How could I resist? Bringing the two lovebirds together… Ah! I’m just a hopeless romantic.” Maxwell’s slithery voice concluded. He dragged a chair to face Kayne. With a gleeful smile and dignified air, he sat down.
Kayne coughed again, remaining silent.
“You know…” Maxwell carried on conversationally, “I do owe sweet little Laura a special thanks. I barely had to convince the boy. I think he was ready to take on the both of you at your house. You have to admire youth’s fervor. But I would have missed all this…”
Kayne’s eyes narrowed with murderous threat, his menacing air broken as he heaved on the floor.
“Shall I get you some water?” Maxwell asked with concern in his voice before he broke off into loud laughter.
Kayne remained silent, holding his stare.
“Ah well... Anyway. As I was saying… I think it’s almost poetic… We will all die and murder. Not for money. Not for glory. For love.” Maxwell’s eyes finally narrowed, his hatred blazing through. “You have killed for the woman you love. You will die because of it. I bet you think I’ve been planning this for years, that there is nothing I wouldn’t do to get ahead. You’re right. And yet right now, looking at you, pathetically drained of your own blood. You know what I’m thinking of? Who, I’m thinking of. A goddess. A goddess with fiery hair and emerald eyes. She is worth murder and betrayal, she is worth everything. I want you to die knowing this. You died because of her. My Tanya will be waiting for me. Your sweet little Laura, you will never see again. Not where you’re going.”
Kayne lay immobile on the floor. It was a funny feeling to be on the other end. He thought of Tanya. Tanya did win the battle, from beyond the grave, threw her last arrow, straight into his chest. He smiled bitterly. It was a good fight. He would shake her hand down below.
But his last thoughts were with Laura. This was his cruelest act yet, taking everything from her and leaving her behind. He thought of all the movies he’d seen where lovers facing death prayed to be taken, to have their lover’s life spared. They were nothing but selfish cowards. The real sentence was endured by the survivor. He deserved to die; he wasn’t sorry for himself. The unrest he felt as his vision darkened was for Laura. He failed her, as her lover and as her master.
He wondered if she would remain true to herself, pure, beautiful, and untainted by him. He prayed for it and feared it above all. He was not a noble lover. In this moment, facing death and the prospect of never laying his eyes on her again, he knew the truth that lay in his dark heart. He wanted her to burn in hell with him, for eternity. His Laura, he’d loved her with the ferocity of a mother and her defenseless babe. He’d loved her with the awe that brought you to your knees in the presence of the divine. With his entire wretched being, he’d loved her, as a man hopelessly loves a woman.
She would never know, she would never hear this from him. This one regret burned him alive as his heart bled out.
Maxwell could have never guessed the heart-wrenching thoughts ripping his victim apart. When Kayne gathered his remaining strength to spit his last words, he looked victorious, his smirk condescending.
“Where I’m going, I’ll be fucking your bitch.”
Maxwell’s fury turned his cheeks beet red. He raised his arm but restrained himself. He had to wait for Kayne to stop laughing, oozing blood. He had to wait for his last painful breath to leave his body. The scene had to remain intact.
***
It was past two in the morning and still no word of Kayne. Lucas had repeatedly tried to reach him with no success. He had reassured Laura unconvincingly, before retreating back to the office. Kayne had asked him to gather all information regarding the next shipment while he handled the Louis issue.
Laura had returned home around midnight. It was not unusual for Kayne to come home in the wee hours of the morning, and she felt at a loss by the uneasy feeling gnawing at her in his felt absence. She roamed the lonely corridors, not knowing what to do with herself, unable to sleep, unable to think.
***
Maxwell looked with disdain at the inert body lying on the floor in front of him. He had expected the long-awaited victory to drown his senses with euphoria, the sustained nirvana to last for days. He fantasized of a pitiful Kayne, groveling before him. Kayne had once again deterred his bliss. Now he was gone, and Maxwell would never get his vengeance, not the way he envisioned and devotedly poured himself into it.
Maxwell had hated Kayne from their first meeting, as he had hated all the other Kaynes that came before him. He knew all too well his sort, born under a lucky star. Blessed with looks, showered with money, gifted with charm and confidence. The Kaynes of the world had every need met before the desire was even born.
The Maxwells of the world were born ugly, usually short and stocky, destined to bald prematurely. They were the ones who pined after the girls the Kaynes took carelessly and dismissed ungratefully. They were the ones who worked twice as hard for half the result, and none of the recognition. The Maxwells of the world were called snakes, thought of scornfully to play dirty, deemed to have no virtue. The Maxwells of the world learned young that virtue was the luxury of the strong. Deceit was the only defense of the weak.
But no one roots for the ugly duckling, lest he become a swan. He had met a swan. She’d been an ugly duckling too. When all others recoiled in front of his so-called sadism, his devious thinking, she had smiled proudly at him. She understood him. Not his frigid, politically correct wife. Tanya Malone, his bloodthirsty goddess. His ugly duckling in the skin of a swan.
Tanya Malone would not have died in vain.
He reached for his cellphone. “Mr. Dru
gov. I apologize for disturbing you so late.”
“Maxwell?” Dimitri’s voice was alert, even when dragged from sleep.
“Something has happened.”
“Yes. I assumed that much,” Dimitri snapped impatiently.
“Kayne. Kayne Malkin is dead,” he announced in a somber voice. “What,” Dimitri hissed.
Maxwell sighed. “He’s been shot.”
“How?” Dimitri growled on the other end.
“Louis Lavallé, an insignificant servant boy. He’d been running his mouth. Kayne had his girlfriend taken out... He was supposed to bring him here to the cabin. We made him believe he was going to meet her here. I was to handle him with Carlo. You know… I’m not sure how it happened… The boy had a gun on him. I don’t understand how he slipped it past Kayne… . Anyway, when he figured out the girl wasn’t here… . He shot him, Kayne came unarmed. Luckily I had my gun. One can never be too cautious.” “Have you touched anything?” Dimitri asked, still taking everything in.
“No, sir.”
“Don’t. I’m on my way.” Dimitri hung up immediately after.
Maxwell knew his word wouldn’t be enough, not when it came to Golden Boy’s head. With pride, he looked at the bodies lying around him. Their silence would support his story.
Carlo came in behind him. “So is it over, Boss?”
The trap had been set, had played out perfectly. Dimitri would confirm the story for himself. Most likely, Maxwell’s gun would be placed in Kayne’s hands. An anonymous call would be placed in the morning to the police. They would find two bodies placed in what looked like a shoot-out. The case would be overseen and ultimately signed off by Riley.
“Yes. It’s all over.”
Day-151
Laura hadn’t shut an eye. All night she paced around Kayne’s room with ever-increasing angst. Like the madwoman in the attic, she could be heard below, an eerie presence lurking in the shadows.
By noon the next day, her anxiety caught on, spread throughout the household like mass hysteria. Even the always-composed Lucas Belfort could barely hide his growing concern. Olga ran around the house like a headless chicken, beginning a chore and abandoning it to begin another. Kiev was the only one rendered apathetic by his disquietude. He sat alone in the solarium, his eyes brooding, with a tall glass of vodka, straight, sitting in front of him untouched.
Laura was still in her nightgown when she heard a gentle tap on Kayne’s bedroom door.
“Yes…” Her voice came out strained, unrecognizable to her.
“It’s Lucas. May I come in?” His voice was soft, his tone grave.
“Lucas…” Her voice cracked with emotion. “Come in.”
He opened the door but remained standing in the doorframe. “I’ve just spoken with Dimitri. Natasha wanted to call you. I preferred telling you myself... I’m so sorry, Laura.” His eyes were deadened.
She swallowed. Her eyelids fluttered for a moment. Lucas advanced, thinking she was about to faint. She didn’t. She looked at him, her eyes cold as stone. “He’s dead,” she muttered, acknowledging the truth that had tormented her all night.
Lucas nodded, his jaw tense. He proceeded to summarize the story recounted by Dimitri.
“Louis Lavallé… that little piece of shit would have killed Kayne... KAYNE MALKIN?” she blasted.
“It would seem so.” Lucas could barely look her in the eye.
“And… Maxwell saved the day?” she hissed, her eyes ablaze.
“Dimitri went down himself, checked the story out.”
She broke into a loud humorless laughter. She stopped almost as suddenly, her eyes narrowed, and her lips pulled thin. “Maxwell is behind it. Find the link,” she commanded coolly. “Find me the link, Lucas,” she reiterated, wagging her index finger, her tone almost playful, and her eyes glittering with something unholy.
In this moment, he almost feared her. He nodded respectfully and walked out.
The moment she was alone, she collapsed to the ground. She opened her mouth and bit her arm, screaming as loud as she could, in complete silence. She refused to believe it. She shook her head in denial. Kayne couldn’t be dead. It was all a sick joke. She had just slept in his arms… was it last night? Or was it the night before… He had brushed her hair, he held her. She had whispered I love you… Was it I love you… or thank you? She couldn’t remember to save her life. It was silly, but it really bugged her. She decided she said I love you. Kayne Malkin couldn’t have possibly died without having heard her tell him those words. Kayne Malkin, gone. She looked out to the radiant sun. She almost laughed. Hadn’t the sun heard?
First Peter, and now Kayne. The two loves of her life had snuck out through the back door, like thieves in the night. She felt numb, strangely calm. Kayne Malkin, her Master, her Monster, had gone where she could not follow. She looked at the scar on her wrist, felt the old itch again. Laura Spencer would have done it. Laura Spencer would have been unworthy of her Master. Mrs. Malkin would rise. Mrs. Kayne Malkin would meet her cursed life in her best attire, with her eyes dry and her hair perfectly set. She would understand the necessity to survive, to remain strong. Mrs. Kayne Malkin would devote the rest of her life to avenge her Master. Laura Spencer writhed inside her from the intolerable pain. Mrs. Malkin reached in, lovingly, held her in her arms. She rocked her and caressed her hair, like a doting mother hushed her incessant howling. “He will pay… We’ll make him pay,” she lovingly whispered in her ears.
Maxwell Bane would pay. He would learn the price of Kayne Malkin’s head. She hung on to this one single thought to lift her heavy limbs off the floor.
She received the official visit from two curt policemen not too long after. Once again she was subjected to the gruesome details, though noted the slight and telling differences of the official report. She acted blissfully ignorant when questioned about Kayne’s work. She only allowed her bleeding heart to show when questioned about their marriage. When they left, she knew she had cried her last tears.
***
Lucas returned not too long after. He found Laura awaiting him in the reception hall. She was sitting straight in a high-back chair, calm and collected. She was clad in a black body-hugging dress and matching hat, a retro chic look about her. She looked far more glamorous than in mourning. Before he even opened his mouth, she silenced him with her palm.
“Where’s Kiev?” She loved Lucas. He was a good consolation for the brother she lost. But she had come to depend on Kiev. He incarnated the irreplaceable father figure she never had.
“I’ll get him.”
The two returned dressed in formal black suits, usual for Lucas, an appreciated gesture from Kiev.
She looked at Lucas and simply nodded her head to give him the go-ahead.
“You were right.”
Laura’s cool face came to life upon the affirmation. Something sinister inside of her had taken residence. It resonated in her eyes. “We’d been tracking him. We had a chip in his car…” Lucas continued.
Laura looked down at her bracelet. “Just like this one?” she asked, lifting her wrist.
Lucas offered her an apologetic stare. “Similar. It was an earring, made from the same jewelry maker… We’ve dealt a lot with him. Maxwell even knows him… Kaminski. He’s old as a mummy but silent as a tomb.”
“And Maxwell wasn’t suspicious of receiving earrings from Kayne?” she inquired, her tone sarcastic.
Lucas cleared his throat. “They were Tanya’s. She was working with Kayne… spying on Maxwell. She hid them there.”
“I see.” Laura felt the sting at hearing her name. Even from the grave, Tanya still managed to rub her closeness with Kayne in her face. “Please go on.” She feigned indifference.
“Maxwell was at the police station sometime late at night yesterday.”
“Okay…”
“His man Riley was on duty that night, so that’s not that suspicious. But… Louis Lavallé was also there… spent the night in holdup. The chip shows Maxwell dr
ove around until dawn… . And then awfully close to here… about two streets down… sometime in the early morning… Not long before Louis came home…”
Kiev shook his head. “Yes... yes… . Listen. You know Maxwell did it, Boss knows it, and I know it. But that shit won’t fly with Dimitri. You say he went to check himself? We can’t go to him with that. It’s not enough.”
“We won’t go to him with that.” Laura’s calm voice echoed in the big hall.
Both men turned to her, having forgotten about her for a moment. They would not make that mistake again.
Lucas’s emotions finally took over. “She’s right. Fuck Dimitri, he probably knows something is fishy. He’ll keep quiet just to save face and, obviously, keep the shipments on schedule. I say we go after Maxwell ourselves. Just say the word, Mrs. Malkin, and he’s a dead man.”
Laura smiled with all the hatred in her heart.
“Thank you, Lucas and Kiev.” She bowed her head, regal-like. “I don’t want him a dead man.”
“Laura!” Lucas screamed, infuriated. He’d thought he’d seen a glimpse of a woman he could follow, one worthy of his service, worthy of the memory of his best friend.
The look she shot him both reassured him and silenced him.
Her voice was as calm as ever. “Maxwell Bane… .” She looked above and around her, as if pleasantly tossing an idea in her head. “He’s married… with an adorable young boy, isn’t he?”
Lucas nodded.
“Kiev, take the men you need. Find the wife and child. Bring them to me. Lucas. You get me Maxwell. Alive, and unharmed.” The men looked at her. She looked back, but clearly she didn’t see them. She smiled wickedly to the vision playing out in front of her.
“You’re right. What we have is not enough. We’ll get our confession straight from the dragon’s mouth. Let’s see how he holds up in interrogation… Let’s see how he holds up to his wife’s… and that of his precious little boy.”