by Flite, Nora
Inhaling sharply, I trained the gun on his evil grin. “That was my sister.”
“Was it?” He tilted his head, I followed the movement with the Ruger. “She was a sweet one. She screamed so pretty when I touched her.”
Cece.
My head swam with the memories he was forcing up. I felt vomit on my tongue, icy sickness knotting up my muscles.
I hadn't been thinking—could not think—my hands just squeezed.
The gun went off, firing uselessly past his ear and into the black sky. Bullet after bullet that missed and set me up for my own carefully constructed doom.
Lars was demonic lightning, he grabbed for me and caught me by the hair. The gun fell, my scream slicing up my own vocal cords.
His punch to my stomach ended the noise.
On the rough ground, I fell to my side and moaned.
Boots appeared, a hand in my scalp forcing me to my knees. The hard tip of the gun—Kite's gun—made me snap my eyes open. “I don't remember you,” Lars said calmly. “But if you're who you say you are, then I'm impressed. That was a long time ago. Did you live all these years, wishing me dead?”
Tears squeezed from the corners of my eyes. The way he twisted my hair was excruciating. “You and your friend murdered them,” I sobbed. “All of them!”
“My friend? You mean Frankie?” He lifted me, shoving me against Kite's car and bending so we were nose to nose. “He's not my friend. He was going to rat on me for a deal with the cops, and you don't squeal on the Diani family. He's dead now, I kill little rats. Get it?”
It clicked for me. “You had Frank murdered?” He was the one who hired Kite and Jacob.
“Had to happen.” he said. “Some people need to die to prove a point.”
This wasn't how this was supposed to go. Cece, Mom, Dad. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
His breath was scalding me. I flinched and bent away, but he pulled me right back. My nails cut into his arm, but I couldn't find a grip. “Let me go and just die!” I screamed furiously.
“I won't be the one to die tonight. Perhaps I shouldn't have gone to the wake, though. I was worried about Frank's family trying to cap me, I didn't expect an anomaly like you.” Running the tip of the gun down my cheek, he smiled. “I like to tie up loose ends.”
I saw nothing but the opening of the suppressor. My death would be quiet, snuffed out on a darkened road to be found by scavengers. At least Kite and Jacob wouldn't have to see my cold body.
Their faces entered my mind.
Revenge had kept me going. With it escaping me by the second, my heart yearned for something more. A life that lay beyond this moment, a place I could maybe reach if I just lived. That was all it would take... living.
I had to find a way.
Lars was speaking, but I didn't listen. I thought back to the steps I had taken to prepare for this moment. The metal of the gun was warm now, my blood alight. I burned with something besides fear.
Eyeing the mouth of the Ruger, I felt hope.
That monster pulled the trigger, and I felt fucking hope.
The click popped in my ear drum. I knew what would happen before he did.
Lars had been ready for my brains to splatter.
No bullet came out to pierce my skull.
I'd already fired all three of them.
He couldn't react fast enough to the fact I wasn't dead. I was a coiled spring; summoning all my speed, I jammed my elbow into his jaw.
Lars shouted in pain, shoving me away as the gun bounced out of reach. I wasn't going for it, though. It was useless without ammo.
As Lars groaned, covering his face with his hands, I sprinted across the road. The hatchet was in the leaves, I skidded to grab it.
He must have realized what I was thinking, because he started yelling, rushing my way. Spinning, I swung just as he got in range. The blade cut his forearm, blood pouring down his sleeve. The pain didn't stop him, he shoved me into the road.
Lars was bigger, stronger; my adrenaline and lust for survival couldn't match for long.
Screaming, my arms vibrated as I worked to keep him from shoving the axe handle into my throat. Lars crouched over me, eyes so wide they could have fallen from his head. “I'm going to make this hurt,” he hissed. “I'm going to cut your tongue out, and then I'll fuck you like I did your sister. How's that sound?”
Grunting, I worked my knee up towards his balls; he blocked me, kept bearing down. “Get off of me!” I growled. Spitting in his eye, I got goosebumps from how he cackled.
Smooth wood touched my neck, my muscles failing.
Above me, Lars' silver filling glinted like the last star I'd ever see.
I can't give up, I thought numbly. Not now, not here. I've come so far, I...
The air was split by a whistling bullet.
Lars fell off of me sideways, shouting in shock and pain. Breathing in raggedly, I coughed and sat up. Hands grabbed me, pulling me away and getting me on my feet. “Are you alright?” Kite asked.
Kite? I thought in my daze. My brain was working slowly from depleted oxygen.
“Keep her back,” Jacob said, his shade falling over us. “This man is unpredictable.”
I couldn't believe these voices. Seeing their faces hardly made it real. Curling my fingers around Kite's wrist, I squeezed. He wasn't a phantom.
He looked down at me, his arm curling around my shoulders as if to save me from the world itself. Here, with these two, I was safe.
“How did you guys find me?” I asked in disbelief.
Jacob was bent over Lars, his gun at the ready. That broke me from my fog. “Don't shoot him!” I snapped, shoving away from Kite and hurrying to the hitman's side.
Jacob froze, looking down at me with such a range of emotions I could name none of them. “Did he hurt you?” he growled. His rage was plain as day; Jacob was ready to destroy the man who had dared to harm me.
“Who the fuck are you assholes?” Lars groaned, cupping his right shoulder. Blood was dripping onto the asphalt in a steady stream.
Kite laughed, every word mocking and sweet. “We're the guys you hired to kill your old buddy. Isn't it kind of funny, us running into you like this?”
The heavy-set man was speechless, gawking up at all of us. I had questions, so did he, but neither of us was going to get answers right now.
I aimed to make sure he'd never get any.
Opening my hand, I stared Jacob in the eye. “Give me your gun.”
Those ice-blue centers threatened to overwhelm me. They wanted to inflict pain on this man. I loved him for that desire, was grateful he had saved me, but this moment was mine.
They couldn't take it away.
Flipping the gun, Jacob pressed it into my hand. He didn't stop there. Curling his fingers over mine, he made me grasp the pommel. Together, we held the gun as he studied me. “Are you sure you want to carry this burden?” he whispered.
Lifting my chin, I pulled away. He let me go without a fight. “The only burden here is the one I've been carrying for sixteen years.” It was going to end. I was ready for the weight to come off my back, for the guilt over being the only survivor to dissipate.
Kite had told me I'd fail my first time trying to kill this man. He'd been right, I'd fired and missed in my panic. Lars had come close to destroying me out here.
And then they saved me.
They hadn't needed to. They could have let me die. How had they found me, and why had they bothered?
Lars was panting, sitting on the ground and looking grim. He watched me as I stood a foot away, the gun pointed at his skull. “You're a fool for doing this,” he coughed. “Killing me is going to bring the Diani family down on you. The police are in my pocket, too. You're fucked if you pull that trigger.”
My mouth tasted funny, rust flavored. “I don't care. I never cared about dying.”
Lies. Lies and more lies.
Stiffening, I buried the taunting words and stood tall.
“Wait!” he spat, crumbli
ng in the hour of his destruction. “Aren't you going to ask me why I did it? Why I killed your family, burned their business?” His smile was nervous. “Ask me anything, go ahead.” He was stalling for time. It wouldn't help him.
“No. I already know why.” Lars was pale, no longer the big, burly man who'd frightened me. He seemed so small now. Tightening my hand on the trigger, I breathed until I was steady. “Obey or be killed. That was what you told him. You wanted to send a message to everyone who would stand up to you. Now, here's my message.”
The shot wouldn't miss. I was too close to his gleaming skin.
I whispered, “You can't murder my family and live happily ever after.”
The explosion went through my forearms and into my gut. It wasn't the kinetic power of it, though. Pure release, freedom from the ghosts that had haunted me... these tremors came from my soul.
Shivering, I watched my breath make clouds in the cool air. Lars was still, no longer capable of hurting me or anyone else. I should have collapsed, my energy had vanished in that bullet.
Jacob approached first, his hand open, expectant. Looking down at the gun I held, I realized I had the only weapon among us. Kite had found his Ruger on the road, but it was empty. The hatchet couldn't compare to a gun.
If I wanted to, I could shoot them both and escape.
I could secure my life.
“How did you find me?” I asked, not releasing the pistol.
“You stole my Mercedes,” Kite said, his grin brittle. “I have a GPS tracker in it, it goes to my phone. Jacob drove us here.”
Of course. He loved that car, hated anyone else driving it. I should have expected a precaution from thieves.
Shifting, I turned towards Jacob. He was a statue. I wished I could read his mind, know what he was planning. “You found the letter,” I whispered.
His nod was subtle. “Yes. It was where you left it.” His fingers twitched, summoning my attention. This was a standoff; kill them and live, or give the gun up and put my future in their hands.
Hands that had murdered.
Hands that had made me whole.
Closing my eyes, I placed the gun gently into his palm. It was a steel clamp, closing on the weapon and pulling away. “What are you thinking now?” he asked me.
Keeping my eyes closed, I made fists at my hips. I summoned all the strength I had, looked for the piece of me that had been there before these men had transformed my heart.
“I'm thinking... it's done. I did what I wanted to. Lars is dead, and whatever happens now...” Looking up, I stared into Jacob's face and refused to crack. “Whatever happens, I'm ready for it. I told you I wasn't scared of death. I meant it. Do what you want.”
The two hitmen shared a long look. The messages I couldn't see telegraphed through the air.
Not knowing was better for me.
Especially when Kite snapped forward, catching me around the mouth with his palm. This was the move he'd been about to inflict on me way back when, that fateful first night in the Corner Velvet bar.
My scream went no where. Cloth filled my teeth, yanking around to tie in place. I was gagged, they'd been prepared. Was this really happening?
Jacob looked on, placid and unmoving. The last thing I saw was a thick wall of fabric.
They'd blindfolded me for the second time.
Neither of them spoke. Efficient machines, I couldn't tell who was tying my hands behind my back or my ankles together. It wasn't like earlier tonight, back when we'd still pretended this confrontation wasn't waiting for us.
One of them hoisted me; the scent in my nose was clean, minty. It had to be Jacob.
Disoriented, I landed on something hard. I knew it was the trunk of a car when the metal clicked shut heavily above me. They were going to erase me.
I'd told myself I was fine with it.
But I wasn't.
Screaming into the gag, I rolled in the trunk and struggled. I could do nothing but tire myself out. I'm an idiot, I thought angrily. I shouldn't have given them the gun. Why did I do that?
Revenge... it wasn't all I wanted. Not any longer.
Jacob and Kite had grown a will to live inside of me. They'd fanned my flames of life, and now, they were going to take it all away.
For some time I laid there. I didn't know how long.
I pictured them as they cleaned up the murder site. There was loads of evidence to get rid of, they were going to be careful.
Movement, the car rocked, the vibrations of the engine starting. That we were driving at all terrified me. Each second put me closer to my death. How could they do this to me? I'd given them the letter because I cared about them. I didn't want them to suffer.
I'd thought... deep down... that they cared for me, too.
Marina the reckless idiot. Good job, you dug your own grave.
Kite wasn't the king of fucking bad ideas. I was.
Nauseous, I almost didn't notice us slowing down. Time had no meaning, it could have been minutes or hours. I was feeling claustrophobic, the instant the trunk popped I sucked in air through my nose. Hands touched me, pulled me free.
Gently, I was curled against someone's chest. Soft fibers and that refreshing scent made me think it was Jacob again. In a panic, I whimpered behind the gag. His lips came to my ear, a caressing breeze. “Shh.”
Behind the blindfold, my eyes were damp.
The walk was short. My ears pricked at the sound of water. Was that the ocean? No, I'd smell salt. Where were we?
He put me on the ground, my knees connecting with something firm. The rushing noise rumbled under me now. I was positive it was a river, even before they pulled the blindfold off. Blinking, I adjusted to the darkness easily. I'd been living in it, after all.
Around me, I saw the solid wood of a bridge. The river was visible between the gaps. It was what was in front of me that drew my eye.
Jacob crouched, the knife in his hand shining bright. My heart started thumping madly.
“Promise you won't scream,” he said.
Something touched my shoulder. Twisting, I saw Kite beside me. His face looked... forlorn. Whatever was coming, he was deep in his own head. That didn't help my nerves.
“Marina,” Jacob said. I looked back at him. “No screaming. Okay?” When I nodded, Kite quickly undid the gag. It was a relief, my mouth was sore from the pressure.
I sucked in a big gulp of oxygen. Why would they take me here? My brain tingled with the visual of my body sinking in the river. I shuddered violently. “Please,” I croaked. “Don't do this.”
Jacob smiled sadly. Turning the knife, I could see now that it looked old, but well cared for. A pocketknife, I thought, by the shape of it. “I want you to know something,” he said quietly. “Kite and I... we debated intensely about what to do with you. We thought, if we didn't help you, maybe you'd end up dead on your own.” The blade went flat, he tapped it on his knee. “From the start, we knew you couldn't go on as you were. But what to do with the girl who messed with our minds?” Blue eyes swung up over me. “Kite wanted you dead, initially. Then he argued for your life. I argued for our future. It was complicated, you can guess, coming to an agreement.”
Kite walked away, standing beside Jacob. He wouldn't look at me, no matter how I mentally willed him to. “I told Jacob we could trust you,” Kite muttered. “You failed that test, Marina.”
All of my nerves turned to ice. “I—what? No! I don't know what you mean by a test, but you guys can trust me.” Hot tears made streaks down my cheeks. “I swear, I'd never do anything to hurt you two!”
Puffing air through his nose, Jacob reached out and cupped my jaw. I didn't like how close the knife was to me. “Regardless, after much deliberation, we realized tonight that there was only one way for this to end.” Fear seized me, took all of my arguments and threw them in the river. “Before this can go any further... Marina, you should know about us. What we've done.” His lips—lips that had once kissed me so tenderly—became a harsh frown. “It's only
fair.”
Lowering the blade, Jacob stared at his feet. He was gathering himself. Was it so he could talk, or so he could slice my pulsing throat? I held my breath, waiting.
Finally, Jacob closed his eyes... and he began their story.
- Chapter 37 -
Jacob
16 years earlier
Standing beside the wet edge of the pit, I watched them lowering the tiny casket. It was a cruel thing that they needed to craft that small.
What kind of world would allow a four year old to die?
Where was the lesson in that?
The preacher was saying something. My ears, stuffed by the constant, numbing sound of the rain, didn't listen. I was exhausted by all the apologies, all the gentle pats and red-rimmed eyes that tried to understand or console. There was nothing in this world that could comfort me.
My little brother was gone.
Around me, adults taller than trees sobbed into each others arms. There was no one to even hold my hand. Daniel's death had taken our father away.
He'd been ruined by the tragedy. I'd stumbled on him, stuffed with pills and soaking in his own blood. Dad would have been dead in an hour if I hadn't dialed for an ambulance.
The police had called me a hero for saving him.
I think my dad would disagree.
Turning, I put my fists into my pockets and started to walk. I wouldn't get far, no one would allow a nine-year old to wander off.
In the grey shadows and slippery air, I tried to vanish. Everything had changed for me; I'd lost everyone. With my father in a mental ward, I was being shoved an hour away to stay with my grandmother.
She was sweet, but her one milky eye held as much clarity as the other. The way she kept calling me Bill, my dad's name, made me sure that she belonged in the mental ward with him.
On the brink of the cemetery, I hovered by the grimy bust of an angel. The name on the base was faded, I didn't try to read it.
I wanted to crawl into the ground with Daniel. Living was a burden, I couldn't imagine what was left out there for me.
The tears that welled up were painful. My eyes throbbed, fighting to hold them back. With no one to see me, I crumbled to the ground and sobbed. This wasn't fair. Why had this happened?