Till The Sun Dies: Checkmate, #2

by Finn, Emilia

  “No, she’s not allowed to flirt, but this isn’t Jess, anyway. You got space for us?”

  “Us? You and Eric?”

  “Nah, me and another friend. He’s cool.”

  “You vouch?”

  “For now, but I reserve the right to blow out his brains if he fucks me over.”

  Spence chuckles. “You want me on site?”

  “Dealer’s choice. You can play, too, if you want. Or you can go. But no matter what, it’s in and out. One hour. Clean up. No one will squeal. It’ll be like it never happened. We’re going old school.”

  “Old school? Fuck, son. I wanna play. How long till you get here?”

  Kane looks to me. To the bag in my hand. To the gun in his. Then back to Graham’s house. “Twenty minutes. Turn the feed off. I don’t even want my headlights on there. We’re ghosts.”

  “Already off.” Spence moves around wherever he is. “Feed’s off. The range is empty. Consider this place Chuck E. Cheese, and you’re the birthday boy. The place is yours.”

  “Good deal. I’ll beep you when we’re five out.”

  “See you soon. I’ll get the room ready.”

  Kane’s eyes come to mine. He studies me. He tilts his head. Then he grins.

  “Get us a blowtorch. And tools. Lots of tools. And blades.”

  “Fuck me, Bish. I’m feelin’ a little gay for you right now. It’s been too long since I got to hurt anyone.”

  Kane laughs, and with a shake of his head, he slides the cell into his pocket. “He’s in.”

  “You trust him?”

  “I trust him more than I trust you. That’s not a personal jab, that’s just reality. He and I go way back. We’re already blood in. My trust in you relies solely on who you’re in love with. Soon, after tonight, you and I will have a different bond. A brotherhood. But for now, I just hope my love for Jess isn’t blinding me to you.”

  “I won’t fuck you over.”

  “Said every guy who ever fucked me over, three seconds before he fucked me over. You know who never said that? Who never pretended to be innocent?” When I don’t answer, he nods. “Jess. Not only didn’t she say she wouldn’t hurt me, but she told me she was gonna shoot. That’s the kinda honesty I want in my life. When you got the balls to tell a fucker you’re gonna shoot him, then you follow through, you earn my trust.”

  “So when I turn and decide I’m done with you?”

  “Say it to my face, then look me in the eyes while I gut you.”

  “Fuckin’ savage, man.” I shake my head and begin walking again. “You’re a whole new world for us, Bish. We’re just regular folks. Law abiding, school attending, help grannies across the street kinda guys.”

  “I help grannies in the street.”

  We step onto Graham’s lawn. “You do?”

  “When they aren’t clutching at their purses and acting like I already robbed them, then sure. I help. I went to school. I did alright at it. I follow the law when it works for me. Hell, I was the law. But it’s flawed as fuck, so I needed out.”

  “Did you figure out your next move yet? Your job.”

  “I did. Actually, I might talk to Spence about that tonight. I have plans to make. You want in?”

  “Do I want in on your plans?” My garage flashes through my mind. “I’m not gonna lie, I’m curious as hell. And you can bet your ass I’ll be listening when you talk to your buddy, but I also got my own business to take care of. I’m not jumping ship and dumping my hard work. I busted my ass to turn enough profit that I can afford an apprentice and eat more than ramen. I’ve put too much into it to walk away.”

  He shrugs. “It doesn’t have to be exclusive. Maybe we can collab, and we can consider tonight your interview. You ready?” When I nod at the front door, he slides a pin into the lock and opens it like we have a key and an invitation. “This guy’s a pussy. He has no weapons besides kitchen knives; stay out of the kitchen and you’re set. We’re going upstairs. Third room on the left.”

  “I know where his room is.”

  “Right, but you know because you peeped through his window like a fuckin’ perv. We aren’t coming in his window. We’re walking through like we own this motherfucker. Attitude is half the fun, so buck up, act like you were made to be here, act like you were put on this planet to protect that girl, then go get your man.”

  Adrenaline slams through my veins as he closes the front door with a soft snick. The house is pitch black but for the lights on the smoke alarms. We move past a living room, where a blue light on the TV illuminates the couch. Then past his kitchen and a coffee machine on timer.

  Stopping on the bottom stair, we meet eyes, and without words, he speaks to me with his hands.

  Up the stairs.

  To the left.

  Quiet.

  Get it done.

  When I take a step forward, he drops a hand on my shoulder and holds up three fingers.

  Confused, I frown.

  He points to the stairs, then holds his fingers up again. He shows me three. Then he shows me five.

  When I continue to frown, he rolls his eyes and pushes me forward.

  Shrugging, I step onto the third stair and lock up when it squeaks. He steps past me with a filthy smirk, skips the fifth stair, and proves his point when he moves ahead.

  Got it.

  Third and fifth stairs are squeaky.

  First lesson in our new brotherhood; learn how to read his hands.

  I follow him to the top of the stairs and come to a stop with our backs to the wall. Lifting his left hand, he points to me, then to the bedroom. His eyes drop to the bag in my hand, then reaching back, he takes a gun from his waistband and offers it to me.

  It’s the same kind of gun he handed me months ago. Not the same one, since the cops took it from me, but the same kind. I guess he was attached.

  With a single nod, I move forward and take a moment to wonder his reasons for letting me go first. Either it’s because this is my show. My plan. My girl. So I get the lead.

  Or it’s because he’s worried I’ll shoot him in the back.

  Oddly, no matter how rough this guy is, no matter how many times he threatens to kill me, I’m not worried he’ll shoot me. I trust him, because Jess would’ve told him not to hurt me. Family is family, and she would’ve laid down the rules. So long as he doesn’t hurt her family, he’ll stay alive and in her good graces.

  I trust this unstable criminal like I trust so few.

  The hallway is dark but for the small window at the end. The stained glass throws a rainbow of colors onto the floor and lends enough light to navigate the strange hall without trouble.

  I stick close to the wall and move toward the third door before pausing. Taking a deep inhalation and letting it out slowly, I flex my hands, allowing the weight of my tools to keep me focused.

  The gun.

  The bag.

  My purpose.

  Laine’s tear-filled eyes intrude, setting my gut on fire. It’s time he pays for what he did.

  Kane taps my shoulder and points. “Go.”

  * * *

  Adrenaline has a strange way of both slowing and speeding perception. I recall each and every step I take through his doorway, through the dark bedroom, and toward the lump that lies in his bed, sound asleep like he doesn’t fuck with people’s lives.

  He nearly killed Laine, and for that reason alone, the muted screams he lets out as I slide the bag over his eyes brings me pure, unadulterated pleasure.

  He scared her.

  So I’ll terrify him.

  He’s the embodiment of her nightmares. He haunts her, and makes her believe the only way out of his torture is to end her life. With that in mind, my arms bulge and flex as I swing the butt of my new gun around and snap it over his temple.

  If he dies, I don’t even care. If he dies, we’ll go with Kane’s desert plan and get rid of his body. This isn’t something that’ll hurt me as I grow older. I won’t think back to the time I accidentally killed a
dude and wish I could take it back.

  Bone and cartilage snap when the butt of my gun slams over his face. Muted screams turn to a deafening silence, and fighting arms fall lax against the bed.

  “Go.” Kane taps my shoulder like he’s my lookout. I’m doing the work. He’s steering me.

  I heft Graham’s unconscious body over my shoulder and turn.

  “Let’s go.” I race Kane out of the room and touch nothing but the things in my hands – a gun, and an unconscious man. I move down the stairs and step on the fifth and third squeaky stairs without remorse.

  Kane moves ahead of me and scours the room for incoming threats. His jaw ticks, his eyes see everything, and when he clears the room, he swings the front door open and lets me pass.

  “In the trunk.”

  We dash through the dark yard and across the street. Kane races ahead and pops the trunk open, laughing when he turns back with the tire wrench in hand. “Can we use your murder kit? I never whacked anyone with a wrench before.”

  “No. Shut up.” I drop Graham’s hundred and eighty pounds into the back of my car and slam it closed. “Let’s move.”

  “I’ll drive.” Kane extends a hand like he expects me to hand my keys over.

  I scoff. “Not a chance in hell, Bish. You’re riding bitch, or you walk. This is my car.”

  Quietly chuckling, he dashes to the passenger side and slides in. “Someone found their balls, huh? You get off on hurting guys like that?”

  “I get off on hurting him. Everyone else in the universe can go about their business.” I start the car and pull into the street. “But Graham won’t go on without knowing my wrath. He nearly killed her, Kane. She was almost gone when I got her out of that shower.”

  “Too fuckin’ close.” Sighing, he nods out at the street. “Head across town. I’ll show you as we get closer.”

  Kane directs me straight through Main Street like he gets off on tempting the universe. If Alex or Oz pull us over, family or not, we’re probably going to jail if they search my car. We move to the top end of Main, past my garage, and around the hospital like he needs to make sure the girls are safe.

  It takes fifteen minutes from Graham’s house before we pull into a dirt driveway on the outskirts of town. A large barbwire fence surrounds it like this is a compound – to keep people in? Or to keep people out?

  Kane mentioned cameras when he was on the phone, and though I see trees that could easily hide them, I see no cameras.

  “They’re off.”

  Gravel crunches under my tires as we move forward. “Hmm?”

  “The security feed. He turned it off.”

  “Is he gonna sell us out?” I twist my neck when I catch a glimpse of something that speaks to my car loving soul. Later. I’ll ask about that later. “Can your friend be bought?”

  “Anyone can be bought.” He points to the back of a concrete building. “If the price is right, I’m not sure anyone is immune. But no one except God has enough to get Spence to fuck me over. We go back a long way. Park here.”

  I pull up behind the bunker-like building and cut the engine. Eerie silence greets us, but when I nervously turn to Kane, he chuckles and climbs out of the car. “Relax, you’re safe here. The only guy who should be worried tonight is this fuckface.” He stops at the back of the car and swings the trunk open.

  I study the almost naked guy in the back; the small nicks in his skin, the bruising beneath each rib, and the odd angle several of his fingers point. I wouldn’t be sorry if that was my fault…

  But I don’t think it was me.

  Before I can reach in and pull him out, Kane slams his fist down over Graham’s junk until his unconscious body reflexively jolts.

  “Feel better now?” I shoulder Kane back and bring Graham over my shoulder. “You make him piss on me and I’ll hurt you.”

  “He won’t piss. Not yet, anyway. Come on.”

  “Bish.” A giant ass motherfucker – at least seven feet of hell-week muscle – stops at the entrance to the bunker and watches me lug my burden. “Strange dude I don’t know.”

  “Spence. That’s Ang. Ang, Spence.”

  I can’t extend a hand to shake his, so I simply nod. “Spence. Got somewhere I can put my shit down?”

  He studies me through dark eyes.

  He studies Kane.

  With a simple nod and no further discussion, he declares this whole situation on the up and up and leads us into a concrete room that spans twenty feet by twenty feet.

  It’s finally my turn to show Graham a little of what he did to Laine. It’s time he felt what she felt.

  What she still feels.

  * * *

  “This is your show, Riggs.” Kane stops beside me so our shoulders touch, a wide grin stretching his face. With folded arms, we study the man that wears nothing but piss-stained tighty-whities and a burlap sack over his face.

  Somehow, we’ve become Martin Riggs and Roger Murtaugh, and the man he introduced as Spence has now become Leo Getz.

  We’re going old old school, I guess.

  Spence led us into the space and stopped beside a frame I’m almost positive is a sex prop. Laughing maniacally, he helped us cuff Graham’s unconscious ass to the wood and simply stands back now and chuckles.

  It might be a Saint Andrew’s Cross, but this shit ain’t sexy, and it already stinks in here.

  Graham’s head hangs low… maybe I hit him harder than I intended. Probably not.

  “How do we wake him up?”

  “You wanna wake him?” Spence – aka Leo Getz – prowls the room with a wicked grin and enough firepower strapped to his thighs and back to wage – and win – a war on his own.

  Kane doesn’t have to tell me where he knows this guy from; the fact he’s ex-military is obvious. Broad chest. Short hair. He even comes with scars on his cheek and pure fucking evil in his eyes.

  But his smile lends an air of humanity.

  Sort of.

  “You want him awake for this?”

  He makes me doubt myself. “Should we let him sleep?”

  Spence lifts his hands. “I’m not judging, man. It takes a special brand of pissed off to do this to a guy while he’s awake. But hey, we’re going back to the nineties, which means you gotta stay in character. Let’s get to it.” He steps toward a long table lining the wall and extends his arm like he’s showing off a spread of lunch meats. “We got blades. We got chains. We got some other shit that’ll make him cry.” He stops by a small toolbox and rustles around inside. Taking out a small vial, he stops in front of our unwilling participant and glances back at me. “What did he do?”

  “He hurt what’s mine.”

  Kane moves behind me like a caged animal trying to work off violent energy.

  “I’m gonna need you to be more specific,” Spence argues. “Did he hurt your puppy? Did he hurt your girl?” The scar in his brow stops the left from lifting as high as the right. “Did he hurt your mom? Because hurting someone’s mom crosses a fuckin’ line.”

  “He hurt his girl,” Kane rumbles. “He hurt her really fuckin’ bad. She was with him.” He nods toward Graham. “But she was Riggs’ since forever, he just didn’t make his move yet. Clueless to his feelings, she went left for a little while, got with this dude, but then he started hurting her.”

  Spence’s hard eyes turn murderous. “He hurts women?”

  “Not just hurts. He fuckin’ dehumanizes.” Kane’s words slash at my chest and rob me of breath. “He rapes. He hits. He fucks with her head. He stalks. He’s obsessed. And when he had her, he sold her to any fucker with a fist full of cash. She was raped by more than just him. She was sold like a fuckin’ goat.”

  “Enough!” I meet Kane’s eyes. “Stop. I don’t wanna hear it.”

  “Say it, Riggs. Feel it.” His black eyes bore into mine. The man in this room is different to the guy in the car, and different again to the guy that Jess sees. She makes him softer. She makes him human. But in a utilitarian room full of tools an
d vengeance, he loses the emotion and turns into a fucking machine. “Let it fuel you. Let it anger you. I walked toward a wall of bullets to protect mine. What are you gonna do to protect yours?” He points at Graham. “This is your one chance to make him feel it, because you won’t get a second chance. When we walk away tonight, you better have used everything in the tank.”

  I nod. He’s right.

  I turn back. “Wake him up.”

  Spence’s muscles bulge, stretching his shirt as his square jaw grinds. Those smiling eyes are gone and in their place is something that scares the shit out of me. There’s something in them that reaches out and recognizes its kin in mine.

  These guys have a brotherhood already.

  They know each other in this world.

  And I’m about to become one of them.

  I should be sad. I should be wary and a little nervous. But I’m ready to step into a new world and make this asshole pay.

  Before waking Graham, Spence turns back to the table and selects a heavy wrench, easily ten pounds of steel, and turns back to circle our prey.

  Graham’s a mouse with his leg stuck in a trap. He’s unconscious, but soon he’ll be awake, and he’ll understand what’s happening.

  He’ll understand why it’s happening.

  Crushing the vial in his strong hand, Spence whips the bag off Graham’s face and waves it beneath his nose. Instantly, the man with a swollen eye and a goose egg on the top of his cheekbone rears back from the stench. His eyes wheel around the room in terror.

  No longer lax, he fights his restraints, rattling the buckles that hold him down. It takes only seconds for him to realize he’s stuck.

  His eyes stop on Spence. Then Kane.

  And when they stop on me, he loses whatever color he had.

  “No.” His eyes shoot up to his rattling restraints. “No! Please, no more! Let me go. Let me down!”

  “Who else got you?” Seeing what I see, Spence prowls in front of the terrified man. “Who else hurt you?”

  “I don’t want more. Please let me go,” he blubbers. “They said they were done.”