A soft groan comes from Logan. It only makes me sadder knowing we have things to discuss. Questions and answers I’ve no idea what the outcome will be of us.
Fearing him plays a small part of it after seeing Whitney like this. It’s the lying to me that hurts the most.
“I honestly thought you would grow up to be smart and make something of your pathetic self. You own a consignment shop for knockoff designer clothes. You could have been CEO of your daddy’s business, but that’s gone, isn’t it? You are just like your stupid father, a dumbass who this man will dump when someone more interesting comes along. I have to say though; you are plain stupid if you think my husband will ever stop fucking other women for someone like you.”
“From my point of view, you’re the stupid one. Stupid for coming back here. Stupid for believing you have a real marriage and excessively stupid for thinking you can get underneath my skin. When you reach the gates of Hell, be sure to send my love to your mother.”
I stare at her. Repeating over and over in my head that Whitney is in pain, and even the dumbest person knows that those who are will hit where it hurts the most to inflict it on others. The agony she’s inflicting on me is the worst kind because my father is gone, his business is no longer, and even though the person I am today wouldn’t want to run an oil business, my decision was taken away from me without any repercussions. The same as my innocence was.
I have to get out of here before I lose it. Whitney can attack me all she wants, but thoughts of my father and how much I miss him and my mother have stolen the strength right out of my lungs.
“I may be a lot of things, Whitney, but one thing I’m not is stupid. I know what you’re trying to do. Laying in there all twisted up in rope, tangled up like a pretzel trying to work me up into believing Logan is going to feed me to the big bad wolf called Shadow. Logan isn’t using me; I know this after he confessed his love for me yesterday.”
Warmth and comfort momentarily fill my broken heart when Logan wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me close. Despite the souring in my stomach, it flutters at the feeling of my body pressed against his.
Tears pool in Whitney’s eyes. “He’s lying to you,” her hoarse and dry voice whispers.
“No, he isn’t. Good things happen to those who wait, Whitney. Logan belongs to me. You’re going to die today, and I’m going to wait for Logan to return to me. That has to be tough even on someone as deranged as you. Wondering what time you’re going to start doing the walk toward death. When that final tick of the clock will strike, and Logan decides to end your life.”
Anger seeps into the air around us as I slowly stand and hand the bat to Logan when he pushes up, towering over me with eyes begging me to stay — screaming that he wants to talk as badly as I do.
I think if I left, which I know very well I may do depending on what Logan tells me when he returns, I’d miss the way he looks at me the most.
When he looks at me, he really looks. He watches me with starvation. Like just being in my presence seems unbelievable to him. Like one touch, one glance, one kiss will never be enough. He looks at me like he never wants us to end.
“Take your time, make it quick, I don’t care how long it takes you. I’ll be waiting when you get back. This baseball bat belonged to my father. I’d appreciate if you’d kill her with it.”
Chapter 8
Logan
The odor in New Orleans depends on the time of year and where you are. In the summer, the French Quarter can have a unique smell. Stale beer, auto fumes, old and new money. Musky at times. At night, it’s a mix of perfume and cologne, sex, and thousands of different human body odors as people line the streets to party, especially during Mardi Gras and other festivals.
For the most part, the rest of New Orleans has a sweet and spicy smell coming from restaurants and bakeries, and the sugary sap running down oak trees.
In the winter, things are more clean and fresh.
But certain areas of the bayou, its smell is fucking terrifying.
Algae, bacteria, fungus. Little yellow-eyed rodents that shit and piss and attack dead birds. Add that with alligators and snakes, and you have the distinct smell of death.
Yeah, I’m not a fan of the swamps, but when you’re a serpent with sharp teeth, it’s the perfect place to die.
I never wanted to kill someone and leave them to rot in the wetlands full of toxic in all my life.
“Oh, God. Please, Logan. I’m sorry. I’ll do anything you ask. I’ll leave and never come back. I’ve told you a dozen times since we’ve been out here, I told Shadow I found Ellie, but I swear to you, I didn’t tell him about you and her. I didn’t tell him about the money. I can’t believe after the life we’ve shared, you’re going to kill me? Please don’t do this,” Whitney whines through trembling lips and a helpless look.
Even as the hopelessness bleeds from Whitney’s eyes, she continues to beg for her life. Ever since I dragged her by the hair out of the back of my Suburban a half hour ago, she’s been trying to plead her case while kneeling on the ground. The crushed gravel is digging into her knees and causing her to wince every time she moves.
Bitch looks like a dog begging for a treat from her master. Makes me bark out a laugh.
Using a baseball bat wasn’t the way I wanted to kill her, but if it means something to Ellie, then that’s the way she’ll die.
All Whitney’s doing is delaying her death. Fine by me, gives me a bit more time to break her before I bash the life out of her with one crushing blow to her skull.
“Are you still delusional? Tell me something I don’t know, Whitney. Does Shadow have someone on the outside because I had someone on the inside and it’s ironic as fuck that his family is probably mourning his death?”
Lane and I were discussing the call Rocco got this morning from the son of his contact when Ellie showed. Rocco’s guy on the inside was found dead in a storage room. They’re calling it a suicide as the guy drank a mixture of poisonous chemicals. It’s a crock of bullshit. Shadow forced it down the man’s throat. There’s not a chance in hell a man would drink enough poison to bloat his stomach like his son claims before he passes out or pukes his guts out.
Calling it suicide is nothing but a goddamn joke. Ironic that not a soul was around too. No guards, not a trace on cameras — fucking assholes running that place are covering up to save their ass.
It’s all a part of this goddamn fucking circle of corruption. I’ve had enough, it’s time to call a motherfucker out and I’m ready to face him. Give him a taste and a tease and make him go out of his ever-loving mind.
Shit rarely goes down in prison that way these days. No, Shadow is in deep with someone with influence. That somebody found out about us having an insider and I need to find out who. I’ve racked my brain trying to figure out who the hell would help Shadow, and if indeed it’s someone outside of the prison and not inside. I know every person he knows. I have to be missing someone. Only thing I can think is it’s someone from Texas where Shadow grew up. Somebody he kept hidden from me because he didn’t trust me any more than I did him.
“I don’t know. You saw the visitor sign-in sheet on Shadow. The only ones to visit him were you and me. Please, Logan, I’m begging you. Don’t do this,” she screams, voice about as raw as her wrists and ankles.
She lifts her head, and for the first time in the last few days, the fear of death and desperation dance across her soulless eyes as they lock with mine.
“Funny,” I say with a cynical curl of my lips. “That last sentence sounds like something a woman would beg for when she’s about to be raped. Tell me why I would spare your life when not once have you said sorry for what happened to Ellie, or maybe you did and I didn’t hear through all the shit coming out of your mouth. You tried shaking her up instead of apologizing. If I were you, that would have been the first thing to cross my mind. Not you though, you’d rather die by my hand than your brother’s, wouldn’t you?”
As Lane said, it does
n’t matter who kills Whitney as long as she’s dead.
“No, I don’t want to die at all. Haven’t you done enough to me?” She glares at me with hurt in her eyes.
I laugh, sarcastically, inching in a little closer.
“It won’t be enough until I erase you from the earth. I’m making sure Ellie lives her life as if you’ve never existed. Payback is a bitch, and it won’t stop even when you’re dead. I have something for you to sign first.”
Turning away, I grab the paper and a pen out of my vehicle, and as I turn back around, I catch sight of Lane stepping out of the woods and breathe out a sigh of relief. He’s been out there finding a spot to dump Whitney’s body. Fucking place is pitch black even in the early afternoon. Makes my skin crawl thinking about walking out there.
“I’m not signing a thing.” The indentation in Whitney’s forehead deepens with a frown; eyes fixed on the objects in my hand.
“You don’t have to, I can always find someone to forge your name.” I want her signature on it. Been waiting years to see the look on her face when she realizes we are over.
Before I tell her she is, Lane grabs the items from me, shoves Whitney onto her back, straddles her and wrangles the pen in her hand. All the while she surprises me that she has any strength left as she bucks like a wild horse, but somehow he manages to get a scratchy signature.
“There, once that’s filed, you’ll be divorced.”
I bend and grab the items from his hand all the while watching Whitney’s face crumble. I feel victorious and I haven’t gotten around to killing her yet.
Whitney’s eyes widen, her lip trembles, and tears streak down her cheeks. Over a decade of living with her and this is the first time I’ve ever seen hurt pour out of her.
“Why would you want a divorce if you plan on killing me?” Her brows come together in confusion. It only brings a smile to my face.
“Legalities. I can’t exactly go reporting you missing to get a divorce when I ask Ellie to marry me, now can I?”
“You fucking son of a bitch. I’m sorry, okay. Is that what will make you stop? You want me on my hands and knees and beg Ellie to forgive me? I’ll do it. You are mine, Logan. She can’t have you, do you hear me? There will be women after her. She won’t be able to take them on like me.” Whitney closes her mouth as quick as she opened it, and swallows when she sees the out-of-date look in my eyes. It’s too late. Time has expired for her. Wouldn’t have saved her life even if she would have told Ellie she was sorry. If she were, we wouldn’t be here because Whitney had the power to stop what happened all along. All she would have had to do was tell me, and I would have made sure it didn’t happen.
“That’s where you’re wrong. True love only grows stronger. What Logan and Ellie have is the beginning of it. Too damn bad you won’t be around to witness just how much it’ll grow.” Righting the two of them into a standing position, Lane spins to face me; jaw locked tight, eyes blazing with words unspoken. He’s telling me to believe what he said. To get this done and over with and get back home to what belongs to me.
Rage churns in my gut. Sickness blends with it, stirring the pot. How I ever thought I could spend eternity with a woman like Whitney after having spent only weeks with Ellie makes me think I’m as crazy and delusional as Whitney is.
My determination on getting back the only thing I could give Ellie could be my punishment if she doesn’t forgive me. I could lose Ellie when all I ever wanted was to bring justice to every wrong bestowed upon her, and that fucks me up more than any damn rotten, despicable thing I’ve ever done. More than the money I took to teach women how to please a man. More than betraying vows that until Ellie didn’t mean a thing to me.
Even more than killing.
Closing my eyes, I picture the way Ellie looked earlier. Her black as midnight hair straight down her back, her lips coated in sheer gloss I could kiss for days, and her soft skin. I should have made Ellie mine a long time ago, begged her forgiveness for walking away and living my life when I knew Shadow would hurt her.
My feet become heavy as I stand here, and it feels like someone shoved their hand down my throat and pulled out my heart.
I don’t think I could handle it once Ellie hears the truth from me if she decides to move on without me.
Lane clears his throat to grab my attention, draws his elbow back and nails Whitney in the stomach, and just as sneaky as his move, I shove the paper and pen in my back pocket, open the passenger door and pull out the bat.
My stomach churns as I recall the twist of guilt in my gut when I pulled out the police report after hanging up with Rocco. That goddamn video was staring me in the face — a taunt to my guilt.
I shoved it away like I always did and went on a search through the stack of papers for a name that might lead me to whoever is working with Shadow. Those black and swollen blue eyes of Ellie’s, fresh wounds on her gorgeous skin, eyes unfocused and glassed over as if she were dead haunted me all over again. All the lies told, the way Shadow and Whitney went about their lives as if they hadn’t stolen someone else’s away, it went right to the marrow of my bones.
“Stand up, Whitney,” I state, lips stretching into a corroding smile. I can already smell the stench of her death eroding into the earth.
Darkness swells behind my lids as every part of me prepares to rid the trash that has rotted and stunk up my life for years.
“You won’t get away with this. Shadow will know you killed me.”
I kick my head back and laugh.
“That’s the plan. I want your psycho brother stewing the rest of his days in prison. You see, Whitney; torture, it can be many ways. Sometimes psychological can be worse than physical. I wanted to torture you by flaunting Ellie in your face, and it worked. I need Ellie, Whitney, I never once needed you. I used you, fucked you because I had to. After I found out you were part of hurting Ellie, I never once came while fucking you. With her, I could blow a load just by looking at her beautiful face. You wanted to play with the boys, stand up and take your beating.”
“No.”
“Fine, we’ll do it your way then. Step back, Lane.” He moves back, and I swing the bat, landing on her right upper arm. Her scream hits my spine and spreads like smooth liquid fire.
“Have you heard of doing unto others what you’d do unto them? When you fuck with something that’s belonged to me for years, you get fucked in return, and it isn’t a pleasure fuck. Not that you brought me much pleasure, not the way Ellie does.” Another strike to her other arm and she cries out so loud as she topples over on her side, it wouldn’t surprise me if the rodents are running this way, eager to see their next meal.
I tilt my head, and her eyes flutter as I kneel in front of her, reach down, grab the duct tape off the ground, rip off a piece with my teeth and slam it across her mouth.
“You hear that? That’s the sound of never having to hear your voice again. It’s called peace.”
Gripping her by the back of the neck, I spin her around in two-seconds flat and slam her face into the gravel so many times I lose count.
Trickles of blood seep out from under her face as I apply a bit more pressure to her neck and straddle her, pressing all my weight on top of her.
I want her to feel pain. Need her to understand what it’s like to be powerless, to have that tiny bit of hope that the person above you won’t do what your mind thinks they’ll do.
“This is torture, Whitney. Your mind is racing. You’re scrambling like a cornered mouse, brain crying out for help while clinging onto that one little speck of hope that I won’t kill you because it’s all you got. Protecting you was never part of my plan. Destroying you was. You hate what you did now, and you are dying inside because I didn’t love you. I’m going to marry Ellie, have those babies she talked about, and enjoy every day with her. I’m going to place her on a pedestal where she belongs, and she’s the only one who I will fuck for the rest of my life.”
I’m jumping ahead of myself, but Whitney doesn’
t need to know that. This is her torture as much as it is mine. I want her dying thinking Ellie forgave me.
Pushing up, I crack the bat across the back of her legs, causing her to arch her back, and inciting a scream that would wake the dead if the tape wasn’t over her mouth. Blow after blow I rain down on my wife as blood splatters all over me and the gravel under her fucked-up body.
“The game is almost over. Psychological torture is excruciating. Trust me, I should know after living with you.” I grab a handful of her hair, drag her limp form across the gravel and through the tall grass, the only sound at the moment is coming from my heavy breathing and her barely-there screams through the tape.
Turning around when we reach the end of dry earth where it meets the swamp, I watch Lane as he unties the rope from a tree and ties it around her ankle, the other attached to an anchor that he tossed into the water earlier. Without a second thought, I let go of her hair, lean her up against a tree, and through the light from the trees, I swing and peg her right on the right side of her skull. Swear to God; her brain matter blows out her ear.
The thump of her dead body hitting the ground and then the splash of water is the last thing I hear.
Chapter 9
Ellie
The voices in my head are eerily calm as I sit and stare out the window while I wait for Logan to shower the blood and dirt off his skin. It’s the same window he fucked me against the night we met.
It’s the memory of that night, the connection we shared without me knowing who he was that has me sitting in the same spot since I walked away and watched Logan as he dragged Whitney out of the cage, hauled her over his shoulder and into his vehicle. I’ve moved a couple of times to get a drink and use the bathroom. That was hours ago. I didn’t even move when he came back telling me Whitney was dead.
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