Shallow River

by H. D. Carlton

  I side-eye Amar, still wary of where his morals stand when it comes to upholding the law. Something tells me he’s not straight-laced and was more than willing to let Mako do what he wanted. But I’m not so sure he’d do the same for me.

  “I’m fine, I got this handled,” Mako argues. He sways.

  “You’re going to the hospital, man. You’ve lost too much blood,” Amar says, rushing towards Mako and forcing Mako’s heavy arm around his shoulders. The fact that Mako doesn’t fight any further only cements my worry.

  With one last passing glance, Amar says, “I’ll be back.”

  I watch Amar nearly drag Mako’s body out of the house. Billy’s groans drown out Mako’s grunts of pain.

  Turning my attention back to the bleeding, groaning monster before me, I turn my worry over Mako’s possible death into blinding rage. If Mako dies… if Billy takes the one man in my life that has ever given a shit about me—and I mean actually cares about me—I won’t survive it. Billy will have succeeded in completely breaking me, just like he always wanted.

  I turn, walk back out on the porch and find Mako’s forgotten gun lying on the rotted wood. Picking it up, I turn the gun in my hand, reveling in the weight in my hands. I’ve never shot a gun before. Never felt the mixture of trepidation and power that nestles deep inside you when holding a gun. I can understand why people use guns. Such a tiny thing has the power to take a life in a matter of seconds.

  Loud clattering draws my attention back inside the house. Amar having fitted Mako in the car, he rushes in with me, finding a toppled chair next to Billy. He must’ve tried to use it as leverage to lift himself up. The knife is still protruding from his chest, rivulets of blood streaming out of the wound and onto the floor. He tries to get up again but slips on the blood.

  “Get over here and help me, you fucking bitch!” he screams, spittle flying from his lips.

  I stare at him.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, just standing there? Help me!” His eyes are wide with pain and rage. Bloodshot and wet. I want to stare into the eyes as I take his life. I want to watch the life fade from them when I do.

  Slowly, I walk over to my father’s sprawled form lying on the ground, careful not to slip on his blood.

  “Amar, please leave,” I whisper.

  “Do what you need to do, but I’m not leaving you alone.”

  I turn my head to the side, studying him closely. When he sees my look, he repeats himself, “Do what you need to do.”

  I smile and turn back to Billy.

  “You’re pathetic,” I say calmly. I crouch down, the gun dangling between my knees as I study him. “You’ve lived your whole life as the monster. Desperate to be the meanest so no one can hurt you. Tell me, Billy. Are you hurt?” I pause and rip the knife out of his chest. His screams send warm shivers down my spine. “Do you feel the pain now?” I taunt as I plunge my thumb into the knife wound Mako inflicted.

  Billy screams intensify, his hands wrapping around my wrist tightly. He could snap it if he wanted to, but his grip is too weak. He’s losing blood, and if I don’t hurry, he’ll die from his injuries before I get my chance. If I don’t hurry, Mako will die, too. And that just won’t do.

  “You may kill me, River. But I’ll never die. I’ll be inside you the rest of your life, causing you pain. You’ll never be able to let me go.” He looks manic with his crazed eyes and bloody teeth.

  I smile.

  “That may be true. But it’ll be easy to not feel pain when I have the sweet memory of being the last thing you see before you die.”

  He snarls, opening his mouth to spew more venom. I don’t hesitate. I lift the gun to his forehead and lock my eyes onto his.

  And I pull the trigger.

  His head jerks backwards, blood and brain matter splattering across the tile. His body slumps, and everything fades to silence behind the ringing of the gunshot.

  Pure, utter silence.

  Something I’ve never had the pleasure of experiencing when in Billy’s presence. It feels… nice. Good. I drop my butt on the ground, not minding that I’m sitting in a pool of blood. The gun clatters next to me.

  And I stare at Billy’s dead body, and just smile.

  I SHOOT UP FROM THE hard, plastic chair and rush towards Amar. “How is he?” I ask Amar, my ass having long grown numb from the uncomfortable hospital chair. I’ve been sitting here for hours on end, just waiting to hear anything. I’ll gladly give up all feeling in my ass if it means Mako being okay.

  “He’s stable,” he answers, his eyes sparkling with relief, despite the exhaustion etched into every wrinkle on his face. Immediate relief assaults me, nearly stealing my breath. Slowly, the immense amount of pressure sitting on my chest starts to ease.

  Amar had rushed us to the hospital and got Mako admitted into ICU. During the drive, I prayed. I prayed that I didn’t take too long killing Billy. I prayed that the bullet didn’t hit anything vital. I just prayed. While I did, Amar called in the death to his boss, explaining the story he told me right before the cops arrived.

  Mako and Amar watched Billy. Followed him here. And they basically told most of the truth, with a few different details. I managed to escape myself, running out of the house just as they arrived. Billy immediately opened fire, shooting Mako once in the chest. Amar returned fire and shot back. Billy ran into the house, Mako followed while Amar held me back from entering the house. There, Billy came at Mako with a knife, in which Mako got ahold of the weapon and stabbed Billy with it. During the scuffle, Mako was able to overpower Billy and then shoot him dead.

  Mako got the glory of killing Billy, but I couldn’t care less. I don’t care what the cops believed happened at all. A complete stranger could’ve gotten the glory for all I care, because I will go to sleep peacefully at night knowing the truth. I took Billy’s life from him.

  “He had a collapsed lung and needed surgery. Had to get a blood transfusion ‘cause he lost so much blood. But luckily, the surgery was successful. He’s going to be okay,” Amar continues, pulling my attention back towards him. I nod, wiping the nervous sweat on my hands on my jeans. Flakes of blood crust from my palms. I haven’t gotten the chance to wash up yet. Every passerby has looked at me like I’m a lunatic.

  I suppose I am one.

  “Can I see him?” I ask, standing up.

  “Yeah, you can see him. He just woke up from surgery. There’s gonna be a couple cops here that are going to want take your statement, though.”

  I nod, another nervous sweat breaking out across my forehead. Speaking to a cop always makes you feel like you did something wrong, even if you didn’t. And well, in this case, I think murdering someone would be classified as wrong.

  Noting my nervous energy, he says, “Just stick to the story and you’ll be fine. It’s just protocol.”

  Stick to the story, River. Yeah, as if cops don’t ask the same question five hundred times just to see if you change your story.

  “Oh, and Julie and Matt are on their way.”

  I don’t say anything in response. I’m not ready to face them, yet. Especially least of all Matt. I might be liable to kill him, too.

  Brushing past him, I speed walk towards Mako’s room. Anxious to see him, but incredibly nervous. The last time we spoke, he was done with me. I had information that he’d been searching for for a long time. And I kept it from him for entirely selfish reasons. I didn’t blame Mako if he wanted to cut ties with me. At this point, I’ve been nothing but a headache to him.

  Timidly, I walk into the room. It feels wrong. Nothing about me has ever been timid. Not until I met Ryan. Forcing my spine to straighten, I walk around the corner and see Mako lying in the hospital bed, staring mindlessly at the television screen. Mako is a large man, but even he looks small in the hospital bed. Hooked up to IV’s and wires, with pale skin and dark circles under his eyes. The sight nearly brings me to tears.

  I glance up, noting some cooking show that’s on. By the time my eyes dri
ft back to him, his grass green eyes are already pinned on me, holding me in place. I can’t move now. I can hardly breathe from the intensity in his stare.

  “Teasing yourself with all the things you can’t eat?” I ask, proud of how well I kept my voice steady.

  A small grin slides on his face. That small movement gives me a small amount of comfort, though. Maybe this conversation won’t be as hostile as I assumed it would be.

  “Teasing? Please, I’m getting gourmet food here,” he jokes. I offer a small smile and sidle further into the room.

  I clear my throat. “I’m sorry you got shot, Mako.”

  He quirks a brow. “What part of me getting shot was your fault?”

  “The fact that you were there at all? I know you came looking for me, and I appreciate that. But none of that should’ve happened.”

  Mako just stares, the intensity in his stare increasing.

  “It wasn’t all about you, you know?” I flinch, shame filling my pores.

  Stupid, River.

  Once again, being selfish and assuming Mako was coming there purely because of me. Of course, Mako had to come looking for Billy. Not only was he the Ghost Killer, but he was holding someone captive. He would’ve come looking regardless.

  “I know, that was stup—”

  “Billy killed my father. My real father,” he cuts in. I snap my mouth shut, startled by the information. “He was Billy’s first signature victim. Carved ‘Ghost’ into his chest and shot him once in the head. Assumed my father was betraying him or something, I’m guessing. Who really knows why. My need to find the Ghost Killer was because I wanted to avenge my father’s death. He wasn’t a great man, but he didn’t deserve what happened to him.”

  I nod slowly. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

  “But then you came along. And turns out you had a close connection with the Ghost Killer. The same man who murdered my father was also actively abusing my girl.” My heart drops when he says my girl. “I was always meant to find Billy, River. But the original plan was to find him and put his ass in prison for the rest of his miserable life. Not attempt to murder him. That—that was about you. He stole you away from me and hurt you in god knows what ways.” He closes his eyes, seemingly losing a bit of control. After a moment, he speaks again. “That was far more personal than what he did to my father. And I wanted him to die for it.”

  I’m not sure when tears started tracking down my face, but by the time he’s finished, I’m wiping them away profusely.

  “You’re not angry with me anymore?” I question, glancing at him the blurry eyes. A sad smile teases his lips.

  “Not anymore. You hid the truth because Billy scared you. Obviously, you had good reason to be scared of him. The only thing I hate is that you didn’t feel safe enough around me to trust me with that information.”

  My head is shaking before he finishes his last sentence. I rush to him, carefully sitting on the edge of the bed next to him.

  “That wasn’t the issue, Mako. I did—do—feel safe with you. I wasn’t only scared for my own life, I was scared for yours, too. I guess… I guess I just feared Billy more.”

  He nods and grabs my hand. I can’t look away from the way his massive hand completely engulfs mine. I feel so small compared to Mako, but instead of that intimidating me, it makes me feel secure.

  “He terrorized you your entire life, along with many other men, including my brother. You’ve only known me for a short period of time. I can’t expect your fear and lack of faith in the male population to override the protection I tried to give you. If anyone should be apologizing, it should be me. I tried hard to protect you, and I failed. I’m so sorry for that.” His voice cracks on the last word. More tears flood my eyes, and I’m once more shaking my head.

  “Please don’t ever apologize for that. Billy was always going to find me, Mako,” I parrot, stealing his similar words from earlier. “I made it impossible for you because I wanted to save myself. That’s important to me.”

  “River, I know you can save yourself. But just because you can, doesn’t mean you always have to. You’re incredibly strong and I admire you for it, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you walk through this world alone. You’re no damsel in distress but I’ll be damned if I don’t have my girl’s back while she kicks ass, you understand?”

  Unfiltered love fills my chest so tight, it feels as if my heart is a balloon pumped full of helium. I can’t describe the overwhelming feeling that’s taking my soul and ripping it apart, making room for the man next to me. That’s only way I can describe it. Two souls coming together, entwining deep until there is no end to me or him.

  “I love you, Mako. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner. But I love you so much.”

  A cocky smirk adorns his face, and before I can smack it off, he wraps his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me to him, effectively distracting me with his plump lips. Lightening explodes, skating across our connected lips.

  Finally, I found a home.

  Twenty Nine

  River

  EIGHT WEEKS LATER

  THE KNIFE IN MY HAND trembles. I’m not okay in this moment. My eyes bore into the tomato I was chopping, the red juices dripping off the serrated edge. I was fine and then the red juice slowly turned into blood.

  A hand slides across my body. My mind spirals. I feel Billy’s hand. Ryan’s. All of the men that took from me all morphing into one. The hand grips my hip and turns me around. Instinctively, my hand whips up—the one holding the butcher knife—and snaps to his neck.

  He stills. Green eyes penetrate, the familiarity swirling in the darkness that has invaded my mind. Clarity comes rushing back and the world comes into focus once more. Mako is staring at me intensely, his face arranged carefully into a blank slate. A trickle of blood leaks from the point of the knife digging into his skin.

  “Oh my God,” I rush out, the knife slipping from my grasp. He catches it before it falls and gets stabbed on the way down. My hands fly over my face, and embarrassment floods my pores. “I am so. Fucking. Sorry, Mako.” My voice is muffled by my hands, but I know he heard me just fine.

  I’m absolutely horrified. I almost killed him. I actually almost killed him.

  I hear the knife clatter on the countertop behind me. And then it sounds like the cutting board is being slid down the counter, away from us. One hard tug and my hands away fly from my face. The suddenness of it forces a gasp from my throat, and my hands fall easily.

  His hands grip both my hips, and in one swoop, he lifts me up and sets me on the countertop. He arranges me so my body is sitting on the catty-corner, where the two counters meet.

  “Mako! Careful!” I admonish, wary of his gunshot wound. He’s mostly healed, but he’s still not one hundred percent yet. He’s not allowed to lift heavy things, and I’m pretty sure the doctor would categorize me has a heavy object.

  He still hasn’t spoken a single word. Oh, God. He’s probably going to kick me out now. I almost just sliced his neck open. And what’s worse, is I’m actually capable of it.

  “What triggered you?” he asks finally, cupping a finger under my chin and jerking my chin up. My tear-filled eyes meet his steady greens.

  “The knife,” I admit reluctantly.

  “Why?”

  I try to look away, but he jerks my chin back to him again. “Because the last time I used one, I hurt someone with it. It feels like I’m holding a weapon in my hands now, not something to cut tomatoes with.”

  “Would it help if the knife became something different than a weapon?”

  My brows pucker with confusion. “What do you mean? I thought that’s what I was doing by cutting tomatoes…” My voice trails off when he grabs the knife with one hand, pulls out the collar of my shirt with the other, and begins cutting the fabric down the middle.

  “Mako,” I gasp, stunned. The tip of the knife grazes my skin. Not enough to break skin, but enough to leave a dull sting. When I glance up at him, his eyes are concen
trating hard on the knife. He’s grazing me on purpose.

  My heart rate escalates, accelerating my breath along with it. My shirt falls of my shoulders and down my arms. He cuts my bra next—I liked that bra—and then my shorts and panties. By the time he’s done, my naked body is adorned in scraps of fabric.

  “What are you doing?” I whisper, the tip of my tongue darting out to wet my dry lips. He ignores me and grabs my ankles and spreads them, setting each foot on either counter. Next, he bundles up all the scraps and throws them behind him. Distractedly, I watch them all flutter to the ground.

  “Reclaiming what a knife means for you.”

  My eyes snap back to his. He steps into my space. Electric shivers run down my spine when the rough texture of his jeans rubs across my bare pussy, eliciting a sharp gasp from my throat.

  “Mako…” He deliberately rotates his hips, making sure the zipper skates across my clit. His breath warms my neck as his body presses further into mine, heating me up from the inside out. His lips glide up my neck and to my ear, tickling the tiny hairs on my ear.

  “Do you trust me?” he asks, his ocean deep voice low and husky.

  No, because in this moment, I’m the closest I’ve ever been to heaven, and I’m not ready to die yet.

  “Yes,” I whisper. Only because I’m more scared of him stopping.

  My nerves intensify when I see his hand grip the knife. Not by the handle, but by the blade. I’m tempted to open my mouth and tell him to not cut himself, but something tells me he wouldn’t mind so much. I keep my mouth firmly shut, even when he lifts the knife and glides the handle lightly across my stomach. My stomach clenches in response, equally terrified and anxious to see what he’s going to do.

  The handle trails further down my stomach until he reaches my pussy. The minute Mako started undressing me, my core flooded with juices. But now that he's dangerously close to my most sensitive area with a knife… god, I'm soaked.

  My breathing escalates when he circles my tight bud with the handle. I’m not proud of the squeak that escapes my mouth, nor the way my legs tremble. His wicked, satisfied smirk slides across his face, and if I wasn’t so distracted, I’d do something about it.