Chapter 22
CHAPTER 22
Alfie Scott
“ P lease stop! P-please!”
I floored it once the traffic cleared, and I gnashed my teeth as Mom’s choked pleas went on a loop in my brain.
“I can’t br-breathe…”
I’d be there in twenty-seven minutes, according to the GPS.
Let’s make that ten minutes.
Or you can at least try to appear inconspicuous. Don’t raise any red flags or get the attention of the cops, moron.
“Fuck.” I took another drag from my smoke and slowed down a little.
A little.
“Help me!”
My vision blurred, and it took all my strength not to push it past seventy, which was already too fast.
I tried to think about West, too, and the kids, but my mind was flooded with Mom’s nightmares. Now I knew what she relived every night when she went to bed. Now I knew what’d happened in the nineteen minutes she’d been brutally beaten—and someone had filmed it. Nineteen minutes of kicks and punches to her body. She’d been dragged down an alley, thrown around, and abused till she’d coughed up blood.
Colby and Eric had found all the videos. Not just the “free previews” either. All of it.
Now they’d start tracking down the seventy-four buyers.
I was going after the, uh…the creators.
I checked the rearview and threw the smoke out the window.
My phone rang, and I let it go to voice mail again.
Once I got off 309, I managed to pay more attention. I’d never actually been to the locations we had up here before, but I had to assume I was going to the house at the end of a very long dirt road where nobody could hear you scream.
Chase and whatever Mikey was involved had been cleared to leave, so I only had to worry about Bran. He was on guard duty until tomorrow when Kellan and I were originally supposed to come.
Nobody’s cover had been blown. No faces, nothing connecting the Sons to whatever was going on, and the police had no idea that the two missing persons in Pennsport were also the main suspects in Mom’s assault. They hadn’t puzzled those pieces together yet. Aside from one Detective Reid Hanna, who preferred it when we settled assault cases for them.
When I’d forced Colby to show me the video, the worst part hadn’t been hearing her beg for someone to save her. It was the sounds I couldn’t even begin to describe. Toward the end of the video, when she was gasping for air, that sheer desperation in every wheezing sound, the choking up…
And finally, a low, throaty chuckle from a man who was breathless.
He’d never chuckle again.
I finally reached the dirt road, and I looked around before I turned.
Trees still lined the road, like the main street, but all the leaves had fallen, allowing me to see the vast fields beyond.
I passed the first house and then the second. Half a minute later, the third house.
After that, I checked the distance. We had to be far enough away for gunshots to go off without raising suspicion. Then again, that would be too merciful. When I was done making them suffer, the quietest way to let them go was by strangling them.
That could be fun.
The seconds ticked by in the dead winter landscape of grays and browns, and— “What the…” I stepped on the brake and sucked in a breath. Someone had rolled out one of those strips of tire shredders right in front of me, and I swerved to the left, almost ending up in the ditch. “What the fuck!” I yelled. I slammed my hands on the wheel before I opened the door. Holy fuck, it was Finn stepping out of the thicket on the right side of the road. Parka, gloves, beanie, definitely his beard and his steely gray eyes.
My heart raced as I hurried out of the car.
“What’re you doing, man?! What the fuck!”
He strode toward me, jaw set. “You left the city in a hurry, so I figured you might need to be stopped in a similar fashion. You were supposed to come up tomorrow with Kellan. What’s the plan here, Alfie?”
The plan? Was he fucking serious?
“I’m gonna kill them,” I spat out. I flinched forward, ready to push past him. “What did you think? Get outta my way.”
He planted a hand on my chest and shoved me back, his eyes flashing with barely contained fury. “You stand the fuck down, cousin. Right now, you have two brain cells battling for third place. You ain’t gonna do shit until you can think straight. Get back in the fucking car, you hear me?”
My chest heaved, and I glared at him. He stood between me and that house, and I had to?—
“I won’t tell you twice.” He pointed to the car. “What part of ‘the inner circle doesn’t go to prison’ don’t you understand?”
Who was gonna catch me out here?
“I’m sorry, are the cops hiding behind the house?” I asked incredulously. “There’s nobody here!” I threw my arms out.
He got in my face again, and he jabbed a finger at my temple. “There’s something missin’ in here too. A safehouse isn’t all about a remote location, for chrissakes. Did you speed here? Are you sure you weren’t followed? Do you have a protocol in place in case a traffic camera caught your ass?”
“I think I can afford the ticket,” I snapped.
“It logs your fucking location, you dumb shite! Who’s gonna remove that for you? Huh?” Once again, he pointed to the car.
My ears burned, and the embarrassment weighed almost as much as my anger.
“When we go to a safehouse, we let Eric know our exact route so he can turn us into ghosts,” he told me. Then he walked over to the shredders and hauled them off the road again. “I knew you were gonna pull some stupid-ass stunt.”
I gritted my teeth. Fine, I sucked. Happy? I’d messed up.
“I wanna kill them, Finn.”
“And I wanna be home, licking ice cream off Emilia’s ass, but here I am.”
My eyebrows flew up.
He walked toward me again. “Gimme the keys.”
“Uh…they’re in the ignition.”
So I guessed he was just gonna steal my car? He got behind the wheel and gave me an expectant look.
Fine.
I opened the passenger’s door instead, and he revved the engine.
“You asked us to make sure you didn’t kill them,” he stated.
“I know. Then I saw the video where one of them beat Mom to a bloody pulp. People can change their minds.”
“Hence, why I’ve been here for three fucking hours already,” he muttered. “I had a feeling something would happen once Eric told Colby to look for those videos. There wasn’t a chance in hell he’d keep it to himself if he found anything.”
I looked out the window, toward the house. It wasn’t big, maybe two or three rooms, one story. Red brick. The front yard had seen better days, and the fence had rusted.
It was definitely secluded, though.
“I’mma let you go to town on their asses. Torture them all you want, but you’re not snuffing out the last light.”
I glanced back to him as he drove up the driveway. “Can I ask why you give a shit?”
“Because we’re family. I just gotta keep you straitlaced enough so your man won’t leave you again.” He killed the engine and got out.
I swallowed hard. West wouldn’t leave me for this. I was sure. Sort of. No, I was. I knew his worries came from a different place. West was afraid I’d fall into a depression or something because I’d taken a life. Two lives.
I followed Finn to the house, and he walked right in. Small kitchen to the left, where I spotted Bran sitting in a lawn chair at a table that couldn’t be worth fifty cents at a yard sale. To the right, however… I stopped short at the sight.
They’d covered the entire living room in thick plastic, and the two men were tied to chairs at the center of the room, bags over their heads. A spotlight sat on the floor in a corner, casting shadows on the ceiling.
Finn eyed the men and leaned against the doorway. “Meet Jakov and Luka. We’ve confirmed that Jakov was the one who assaulted your ma.”
“He confessed?”
He shook his head. “You see his hands more clearly in the video, and he has a small birthmark near his thumb.”
Right. I remembered I’d seen them. He’d grabbed hold of her…
Nausea crawled up thickly in my throat, and I couldn’t move for a moment. Two months of waiting, and now the moment had arrived. I heard muffled sounds from them, so they must be gagged underneath those bags too. Arms tied behind their backs, legs tied to the chairs. They couldn’t so much as move their feet.
“What do they do when they’re not out violating women?” I asked dully.
Finn blew out a breath. “They work for the same delivery company. Luka was born here, but Jakov came with his parents from Croatia as a kid. Mother’s from Croatia, father from Russia. Both are now dead. Luka’s folks are alive but retired and moved to Arizona. They’re thirty-seven and forty years old. Luka’s criminal record is more impressive than Jakov’s. Mostly theft and traffic violations.”
“Boss, I have service again,” Bran said.
Finn turned around and headed for the kitchen. “Aight, call Ford and see how close he is. He should be here now.”
I wanted to hear them talk. I walked?—
“Oi.”
I glanced back at Finn, and he held up a duffel bag.
“Don’t get any wounds, and try not to break the plastic,” he told me. “I hope you’re not attached to your shoes and clothes either.”
What? Oh. Leave no traces behind…?
“Um.”
“Yeah, we figured you weren’t smart enough to bring extra clothes,” he stated. “Kellan’s bringing some.”
Okay, we could discuss my level of intelligence later. I carefully removed my watch and handed over my personal belongings to Finn.
He let out a low whistle at the sight of the watch.
I accepted the bag— heavy bag—and headed into the living room, and I didn’t stop until I stood right in front of the men.
The bag dropped with a clank , and it made me curious to see what was in there.
I wouldn’t be the first to get violent with them. No signs of blood or anything on the plastic, yet their hoodies had bloodstains on them. Their jeans were dirty too. Not to mention their socks. Christ. Had they once been white?
Pigs.
I removed the burlap bags from their heads and came face-to-face with them for the first time.
Luka blinked and squinted up at me. He had a nice shiner.
Jakov had a split lip and a cracked eyebrow.
Duct tape all around their heads.
“Look at’chu ugly cunts, fucking around and findin’ out,” I said. “You guys are so cooked, it ain’t even funny.”
I shifted my gaze to Jakov. The coward had covered most of his face when he’d attacked Mom, and it made me a little glad. At the very least, she didn’t have to see a face in her nightmares.
“You made my mom’s life a living hell,” I said quietly.
He pulled off a weak glare and tried to speak, which obviously didn’t work.
“Have they eaten?” I hollered. ’Cause they were kinda drowsy in their movements. I bent down and unzipped the bag, and holy mother lode of handyman tools. Like, this shit coulda come straight from my dad.
After today, I could tell him they were gone.
It’d never been an option for him to get in on the action. I’d mentioned it once to Finn, and he’d shaken his head. No way. No outsiders getting involved.
“They had some fries yesterday,” Finn replied. “Other than that, just water twice a day.”
Were we running a luxury resort here?
“Okay.” I dug out pliers, a hammer, utility knives, a hatchet, bolt cutters, wire, more duct tape, and—yay, brass knuckles.
No throwing stars. What a shame.
I left the tools on the floor and tested the brass knuckles.
Fun.
Perfect fit.
I flexed my fingers and immediately wanted to try them, so I wasted no time. I pulled back and punched Luka right across the jaw, causing his head to fling sideways.
“They work.” I smiled as he screamed behind the tape. “I like these.”
Jakov tensed up and started breathing heavier.
I picked up a knife next, and it made me happy to see him so chickenshit when I got closer. He leaned back as much as he could in the chair, not that it stopped me. And I wasn’t going to hurt him with it yet. For now, I only cut up the duct tape.
“Let’s see if you can talk.” I did the same with Luka after.
“Let us go,” Jakov growled. “We haven’t hurt anyone. You got the wrong guys!”
Luka heaved a ragged breath, already teary-eyed from one punch. He wasn’t gonna last long.
Movement caught my eye, and I saw Finn walking over to me. He lit up a smoke.
“Mate, the jig is up,” he said, sounding a bit bored. “After we caught you, we mapped out your whole fuckin’ life in a few hours. The transactions for those videos you sold trace right back to an account under your name.”
That made me curious. “Did the detective ever find DNA under my mom’s fingernails?”
He shook his head and flicked ashes into the duffel bag. “We were hoping he would, but the only test he ran came back inconclusive.”
Got it.
I bent down to level with Jakov. “I want you to repeat after me. ‘I fucked up. I shouldn’t have hurt those women.’”
“I didn’t do anything!” he snapped. “That’s not my account.”
Finn chuckled. “Or your address? Or the son you lost custody of? Because you make payments to his mother from that account.”
Jakov wasn’t panicky enough. It bothered me?—
“We didn’t know it was Sons territory,” Luka blurted out. Idiot.
“Shut the fuck up,” Jakov snarled at him.
Funny how Jakov had come here from another country, while Luka was born here, but his accent was more noticeable.
“No, no, let’im speak,” Finn said. “What part of Philly isn’t Sons territory, Luka? Enlighten me.”
Moreover, they’d committed their crimes in a neighborhood that wasn’t just Sons territory. It was the home of our fucking origin story in the US. South Philly was where we’d grown up. Everyone fucking knew that.
Finn shrugged to himself and wandered off.
Luka had nothing to say anyway. He stammered and panted, minutes away from giving himself a panic attack, and I was over it. I wanted to focus more on Jakov, so I grabbed the duct tape and shut Luka up again.
I nodded, satisfied, and turned to Jakov. “Now it’s just you and me, buttercup.”
“S-stop it! Please stop!”
“Did you like it when my mom begged for mercy?” I asked quietly. “Does that bring in more money for the videos, when the women scream for help? Like, do you count the pleas when you decide the price? I admit, I’m not familiar with your creative field. But I found it curious how my mom’s video was being sold for two hundred bucks, while another woman’s was three hundred, and one was just one-fifty.”
The fucker just stared at me. Jaw clenched. Forehead beading with perspiration.
“Answer me!” I yelled.
He flinched and breathed through clenched teeth.
Fine. So be it. I picked up the hammer and squatted down on the floor. Then, before he could curl his toes like a dick retracting in cold water, I let the hammer come down with force on his big toe, and he screamed bloody murder.
“Son of a whore!”
What did the fucker say?! “Dipshit, did you just call my mother a whore?” I slammed down the hammer across all his toes until his screams morphed into garbled choking. “Choose your words better, you inbred sack of shit.”
I slipped on the brass knuckles again, and I rose to my feet.
“Are you ready to apologize?” I demanded.
“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “Fuck, fuck, I’m sorry, just k-kill me and get it over with!”
“Nah.” I punched him hard in the stomach, wanting him to feel what those women had felt. “Do you even know the damage you caused? All the internal injuries you gave them? Broken legs, shattered knees, ruptured spleen, cracked ribs, one punctured lung—one of the women spent a week in the ICU, you absolute roadkill.”
More screams, more garbled bullshit. The chair tipped for a second when he gasped for air and threw his head back.
I punched him in the jaw too.
Luka watched with terror in his eyes, and I didn’t wanna spoil things. So I positioned myself in front of him, planted a boot on his chest, and kicked him back, effectively crushing his tied arms against the floor.
“You’ll get yours later,” I told him.
At least his agony was muffled by the tape.
I went back to punching Jakov across the face, because it was time to watch him bleed. Right in the mouth, over the cheek, in the eye, back to the mouth—and there we go. Blood spurted from his lips, a sight that transported me back to the screen with Mom’s video. She’d lost blood too.
“Please help!”
“S-stop,” Jakov wheezed out. “P-please.”
“I can’t br-breathe…”
My heart started pounding.
“I can’t breathe!”
“Stop,” I exhaled. I wasn’t sure if I said it to myself or to someone else, but I just needed to stop for a moment. Deep breaths . My vision blurred. The shadows from the spotlight on the floor contorted Jakov’s face, making it look more gruesome and evil, and I wanted it unrecognizable. Smashed in.
I swallowed shakily, and my breath misted in the air. It was the weirdest sensation. The room was cold and clammy at the same time, the air sticking to my skin. Skin that was cold to the touch but pulsed with heat from underneath.
Fuck. Just as I was about to wipe a hand over my face, I saw my trembling fingers. Hands completely covered in blood.
It’s not my blood, Mom. Don’t worry. I’m only taking care of our problem. I’m sorry I couldn’t do it sooner, before he hurt you.
Jakov coughed and spat out blood.
“I don’t think you’re sorry yet,” I rasped.
I didn’t let him respond. Over and over, I punched him across his body. I wanted every square inch to hurt before he took his last breath.
I hadn’t been able to protect her.
I hadn’t kept her safe.
“Help!”
The next punch knocked out two of Jakov’s teeth.
I lost track of time and space, where the walls around me became blurry, the light flickered, and I only found stability in the rhythm of choppy breaths and forceful blows.
Was he in as much pain as he’d caused yet?
I wasn’t convinced.
“Just k-kill me!” he sobbed.
I heaved a breath, and I kicked him in his stomach. His crotch, his legs, his chest…
I stopped hearing noises, aside from my labored breaths.
He gagged too.
At some point, Bran came in, picked Luka up off the floor, and righted his chair.
One more punch to Jakov’s nose, and…I was stopped.
One hand on my side, another sliding down my arm. I shuddered violently, wondering what the fuck was happening. The touch was so comforting that I didn’t recoil from it, and then I heard a thump as the brass knuckles fell to the floor.
For some reason, it felt like my hand had its own pulse.
“It’s no longer about them, sweetheart.”
I turned toward the low murmur with a single name in my head. West . It was him in his black winter coat. He was here. He put his arms around me, and his warmth brought my mind to rest in a matter of seconds. I hadn’t even noticed the chaos until it was settling down. It was like waking up from a nightmare and then rolling over to find peace again.
Evidently, there was a lot of shit I hadn’t noticed. Like how loud my breathing was, how quickly my heart was racing, the throbbing ache in my right hand, or that a headache had enveloped my skull like a helmet.
“Cover your ears,” West whispered in my ear.
I glanced up at him and blinked. “What?”
You’re really here.
“Cover your ears.” He brought my hands to my ears, and I was way too slow on the uptake. I did as told but didn’t fucking get why.
Then he turned slightly to Jakov and Luka, and I blinked again. Was that a— Oh my God, he had a gun. He fired two quick shots that blasted through the house, and just like that, their heads fell forward and blood gushed from two forehead wounds.
I choked on a breath. My ears rang loudly. Shock pulsed through me in a thick, slow-moving lava river, only to speed up with every breath. He’d shot them? He’d killed them? West had killed them?
“No… No, no, no…” I shook my head and staggered back. “No.” No, he couldn’t have. He wouldn’t do that! No. Oh fuck, no. He couldn’t have blood on his hands. He’d regret getting back together with me. He’d grow to resent me. “No!” Panic set in and grabbed hold of my chest, and I shoved at him. “What’d’ju do that for!” I yelled. “You’re not supposed to be here at all!”
He was unyielding, and his expression was frustratingly composed. Giving me no space whatsoever, he cupped the back of my neck and pressed his forehead to mine.
“You’re only prolonging your own suffering at this point, Alfie.”
“But you can’t kill them!” I tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t have it. “You can’t be a killer—you’ll hate me!”
“I didn’t kill them, baby. I did them a fucking favor.” He fisted the hair at the back of my head to keep me in place, and he pressed a firm kiss to the corner of my mouth. “It’s over now—and I could never hate you.”
“You shot them,” I whimpered.
“I’m sure they’ll send me a thank-you note from hell.”
I sniffled and couldn’t bear it; the pressure in my chest grew so fast and painfully that my knees nearly gave out. I bent over and planted my hands on my thighs, and it became a matter of life and death to suck air into my lungs. Holy fuck, what was happening to me? My skin prickled uncomfortably, and I started seeing black spots.
Was someone sitting on my fucking chest?
I heard the shots echoing in my head, and my fucked-up brain decided now was the best time to replay the moment West had shot Jakov and Luka. I’d just seen his arm lifting a bit. He’d taken the gun from his coat pocket or something. Cool as a cucumber, two shots, pop-pop , the exploding sound, two men dead. Right there in the forehead. No hesitation, no missing, no trembling.
Breathe, baby. Breathe in through your nose.
I couldn’t. I fucking couldn’t.
The edges of my vision became darker and darker, and a dizzy spell sent me to the floor. Or maybe West had lowered me to it. Fuck, he’d walked me backward too. We were closer to the wall.
Follow my voice, Alfie. Feel the tap on your shoulder? Breathe in.
I managed to suck in a mouthful of air, though I kind of choked on it. But an involuntary shiver helped me focus on a gentle tapping on my shoulder blade, and I poured all my focus into it. I felt the calm rhythm.
I was breathing again before I actually knew it; I just noticed that my heart wasn’t racing as quickly anymore, and the panic was fading little by little.
Tap, tap, tap.
Exhale.
They were dead. A part of me wanted to get angry, because I hadn’t fucking finished. Luka had barely suffered at all. And yet, it felt so goddamn freeing. They were history.
It allowed me to see clearer too. I’d always hate not being able to keep my loved ones safe at all hours of the day, but it wasn’t really feasible, was it? Make no mistake—West and I would keep paying for security for my mother when she was out on her own, at least past dark. Which would amount to what, three or four hours a week? Besides, she lived her life on a strict schedule. So that was happening. Dad would happily take a photo for me of her weekly planner. He was on my side.
But there would always be a risk. Even more so when our kids grew up.
I drew a deep breath through my nose and leaned against West’s touch. He was down on one knee next to me, still tapping me gently on the back.
We weren’t alone in the room with the dead guys anymore. Bran and Kellan were doing something with Jakov and Luka—untying them, maybe. Other movement too. I saw Finn and Shan from the corner of my eye.
“Justice has been served,” West murmured.
I nodded and stared at my bloodied hands. Yeah, maybe. Probably.
“I can’t believe you shot them,” I mumbled. “I hope you didn’t use the guns you used to compete with when you were young.”
“Younger, you mean?”
“Sure.”
He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “No, I didn’t. I used yours. The unregistered one.”
Oh. That was good.
As Finn would love to point out, I hadn’t been smart enough to bring it with me. In my defense, I’d left in a hurry. I wasn’t always walking around armed, even though Kellan wanted me to.
“Finn said I had two brain cells battling for third place,” I muttered. “He’s mean.”
“Two seems generous.”
Whoa. I peered up at him, all bleary-eyed and probably looking like shit, but that was uncalled for.
West smiled faintly and touched my cheek. “You can’t be that reckless again, Alfie. You almost gave me a heart attack.”
Fuck. I lowered my gaze again, and I hugged my knees loosely to my chest.
Deep breaths.
I had been reckless. I’d jeopardized everything that was good in my life, all so I could get my revenge.
“I hate my fucking temper.” I wiped my face with my arm and shook my head. “I’m so sorry, West.”
“Let’s not exaggerate.” He rose to his feet, only to hook his hands under my armpits and haul me up. With a grunt, of course. “Your temper makes my life more interesting. I just don’t want you to get caught because of it.”
A breath gusted out of me, and I nodded. I had to work on a balance.
West accepted a stack of towels and a packet of disinfectant wipes from Shan.
“How are you feeling, son?” Shan asked.
“Eh.” I shrugged. “You should see the other guys.”
He rumbled a laugh and gave my shoulder a squeeze. “You’ll be fine.”
As long as West and I were solid, yeah, absolutely.
Shan spoke to West next. “Just leave your clothes on the floor. Our cleaning crew is on the way.”
West nodded in understanding and carefully wiped blood off my hands.
I hissed. That shit stung. Maybe my skin had broken here and there after all.
“Pop, I’m heading home,” Finn said in passing. “I gotta stop for ice cream.”
“All right. What do you want me to tell T?” Shan wondered.
“Remodel of the interior—strip it down,” Finn replied. “We’ve had too much traffic here in the last couple of days, so we’ll use it as a storage for a year or so. Then we can sell it.” He nodded at me next. “By the way, Colby’s with JJ tonight, but you gotta make shit right with him tomorrow.”
I winced internally. I owed Colby the biggest apology for how I’d acted earlier. “Aye, boss.”
Kellan piped up from the doorway. “Oi, clothes off. Down to the base layer, at least. West, you’re going home barefoot.”
“Not if he has a good friend who told him to bring an extra pair,” Shan responded smoothly.
I scrunched my nose and felt my forehead crease. “Why would you do that?”
“Because the fucker grabbed a gun last minute,” Shan said. “That can only mean one thing. He was joining the party.”
I flicked my gaze to West, and I didn’t know if he was pretending to concentrate on my hands or what, but we were definitely not done talking.
“I’ll go put out your change of clothes in the kitchen.” Shan walked away.
I kept my stare fixed on West’s unreadable expression.
“Are you okay?” I asked quietly.
He hummed and slipped the wipe between my fingers. “I am. To be fair, I only brought the gun on a whim. Shan insulted my choice of car, and just when I was about to call him something colorful, I realized it could be a good idea to bring your gun—in case I wasn’t too late already.”
Wait, did that mean— “You were at home? I thought you’d be golfing.”
“It was too cold.” He threw one wipe on the floor, then grabbed a new one. “We arrived at the club, looked at each other, and promptly drove home, where Giulia’s leftovers and whiskey waited.”
And Finn called me stupid? I didn’t need cold weather in order to leave a golf course.
“So you grabbed my gun, and…then what? In the event that you wasn’t too late, you’d what, kill them? You planned this before you got here?”
He let out a breath and finally made eye contact. “My main plan was to prevent you from killing them. But I’ve been struggling with my own desire to pull the trigger for a little while. I ranted to Shan about it today.”
Oh.
“Nothing I haven’t already expressed to you,” he assured. That did feel better. “He helped me realize a thing or two about gray areas. And, frankly, how I no longer have the energy to care about being a hypocrite. If someone I love is harmed, I will want the perpetrators to suffer a much harsher punishment than if a complete stranger gets injured.”
I nodded slowly, understanding where he was coming from. He’d been even more by-the-book when we’d first met, and I could imagine it was difficult to reconsider everything you knew.
“Coming here didn’t turn out the way I expected, though,” he admitted. “I was… In the car, I was pretty much bracing myself to act if I had to and then deal with whatever aftermath that followed, but when I saw you with them…” He furrowed his brow and brushed the wipe over my knuckles. “I don’t know, a pressure within me simply lifted. I wasn’t exactly standing there with a gun to the head of…fuck, just about anyone. They were the scum of the earth, not to mention half dead already. You put a picture next to the definition of rearranging someone’s face. I didn’t feel a damn thing. I might as well have fired the bullets into a wall.”
I didn’t know how fucked up it was that I wanted to smile at his venting, and I didn’t care.
We were gonna be okay. We were okay. Because we evidently shared the same thoughts on this.
“You know, we could go to the shooting range sometime…” It would be a much more interesting hobby than golf, that was for sure.
“We could do that.” He flashed me a smile. “I’m sure I can teach you a thing or two.”
What the fuck? The insults were just raining down today.
“I didn’t ask for an instructor,” I said. “I’m pretty good already.”
“Yes, but you’ve seen my trophies. I was once one of the best in the state.”
“In your category,” I added, ’cause that shit was important. “When you were fifteen .”
“And sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, and nineteen.”
Oh, whatever. That was still a million years ago.