“Who are you?” he asked, sounding confused.
“Don’t fuckin’ act like you don’t know who I am, you muthafucka!” Candice bellowed.
A maniacal laugh filled his ears.
“You don’t know who I am? I thought you were like God. I thought you knew everything and controlled everyone.” Her anger was as potent as the venom that dripped off each word.
“You’re here to avenge your father? He deserved to die,” Stokes said cruelly.
Candice walked over to her bag and retrieved something. Then she walked over to him and turned a box of salt upside down over his open wound. Tuck’s Greek friend had hooked her up with a large bag of cooking salt, perfect for just this purpose.
“Agggh!”
Stokes was panting as the stinging from the salt sent a million tiny needles all over his body. Another hit from the gun rocked through his cranium. This time Stokes barely held on to his consciousness.
“I will ask you again for the truth. Where the fuck is Tucker’s family?” Candice continued to pour more salt over his open wounds.
The man opened his lips and began to speak, but his tone was a weak whisper.
“I knew you would come. I had been expecting you,” Stokes barely managed.
Candice’s hands shook now; anticipation was making her antsy. She wanted to blow his fucking brains out, but she had to find out where Tuck’s kids were first.
“I knew all of this time you would come,” Stokes whispered again. Then his head dropped forward, and his chin hit his chest.
“Good. Then you should’ve been expecting this,” Candice said in an even tone as she lifted her weapon. The man looked up at her out of battered eyes. He locked gazes with Candice. Stokes tried to hold back a coughing fit, but he lost that battle.
“How did you find me?” he asked weakly.
“Don’t worry about that!” Candice responded. She was enraged. “Where the fuck are the kids?” She hit him again across the face.
Stokes’s mouth filled with blood, making him look like a Twilight film extra.
Candice could swear the man was smiling. This angered her even further.
“Wh—why . . . don’t you . . . as-ask Agent Tucker where his family is?” Stokes wheezed.
Candice swung her body around. Tuck was standing in the doorway; sweat was dripping down his face.
“He’s not telling me anything. Our salt trick didn’t work.” Candice turned to Tuck.
Stokes began laughing; then another fit of that same cough that Candice recognized from Uncle Rock. Tuck moved into the room but didn’t speak. Three goons in black were behind him.
Candice lifted her gun and leveled it at all of them.
Stokes started laughing again. “Can’t you see what’s going on here, Candy girl?” Stokes asked weakly, true merriment in his voice.
“Shut the fuck up and tell me where the kids are,” Candice barked. Her voice was cracking. Things were going downhill fast.
“Ask Tucker,” Stokes demanded. His voice was getting stronger now.
Tuck just stood there, silent as a church mouse.
No, not again.
“What is he talking about, Tuck?” Her gun was aimed straight for his head now.
Tuck let out a long breath.
“Don’t you know that Agent Tucker would do anything to save his job? From day one he sold his soul to the very devil to make a name for himself. He used you, his wife and even his kids as pawns,” Stokes rasped out. He was coughing and wheezing for breath between nearly every word.
Candice’s body became engulfed in heat as the gravity of the situation sank in.
“We used you, Candy. All of the people who knew about Operation Easy In are now gone. We couldn’t afford for that kind of information to get out,” Stokes continued.
Candice looked at Tuck; hurt was evident in her eyes. She readjusted the grip on her gun.
“You better start fuckin’ talking, Tuck. You better tell me that muthafucka is lying just to save his own ass!” she screamed. Candice was still holding out hope that this conspiracy theory was just a fluke—that Tuck hadn’t sold her out to Stokes to save his own ass.
Tuck didn’t say a word. Candice swallowed hard. His silence was louder than any verbal confirmation of the truth.
“You fuckin’ traitor bitch!” she screeched. Hot tears were running down her cheeks. “I can’t believe I let myself fall for your lies! I should’ve known a bastard that would go undercover for a year and not care to check on his family was a piece of shit!” Candice screamed. Her gun hand was shaking now, wavering dangerously between Stokes and Tucker. She didn’t know which one she wanted to take out first.
“Agent Tucker agreed to lure you here. He knew he could get you here with a story about saving his family. He really did have to save his family from us. You’re a Hardaway through and through,” Stokes said cruelly. “I guess he sacrificed more than some fling with a revenge-filled little girl,” Stokes cackled.
“Shut the fuck up!” Candice screamed, and with one motion she turned and shot Stokes in the head. Blood splattered everywhere. Her gun was back on Tuck within two seconds.
“That’s what I came here for. Nothing else matters now,” Candice cried, leveling her gun at Tuck’s head. He lifted his gun and leveled it at her head in return.
“You know your father was down with the motherfucker who killed my father in the line of fucking duty,” Tuck gritted out. “I found that out by reading over your father’s fucking books. You’re not the only one who craves justice.” Tuck’s weak eye closed instinctively. Shoot until the threat is eliminated. Eliminated. Eliminated. Tuck chanted this mantra in his head.
Candice moved the pad of her finger. Trigger. Trigger. Trigger. She was chanting her coda inside her head.
Bang! Bang!
Candice and Tucker lay in a pool of shared blood, like a modern-day version of Romeo and Juliet, waiting for their last breaths to leave their bodies. Revenge had not been nearly as sweet and satisfying as they had imagined it to be.
The darkness that engulfed them was cold and unwelcoming. The aftertaste of regret in one’s mouth was always bitter.
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Hard Candy Saga Copyright © 2016 Amaleka McCall
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ISBN: 978-1-6228-6783-7
This is a work of fiction. Any references or similarities to actual events, real people, living or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places, and incidents is entirely coincidental.
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