34. Angel Eyes
34
ANGEL EYES
I stumble between houses, moving as quickly as I can.
Without looking, I know there’s blood trailing after me. With a stab wound in my back and my gut, and the way my right hand is a quarter of the way severed, I’m like a walking blood-covered paintbrush, leaving a trail of crimson behind me. I need to get help, and fast. I reach into my pocket with my good hand and pull out my phone. As I unlock it and see the home screen, I grunt as my chest attempts to cave in.
The sound has nothing to do with the physical pain I’m in. That’s nothing compared to the wound that’s been inflicted upon my soul.
In the middle of the screen is me and ShayShay, standing side by side and grinning ear to ear. That was the best day of my life. She’s as pretty as she can be in her wedding gown. This picture was taken years ago, but it’s my favorite of the ones I have of her. The start of our future together—forever frozen in this moment before me. It was supposed to be a perfect future. A life of joy and love.
Oh, Shannon … Tears that I refuse to let fall burn in my eyes as images of her decapitated and mangled body fill my head. In my chest, a sharp pain slices through my heart, stealing away the ability to breathe. For a second, I think it’s the first sign of a heart attack. Wouldn’t that be a pathetic way to go out, given how glorious I once was? Not a bullet, not a car chase gone wrong, or even one of my suspects getting the upper hand on me. A fucking heart attack.
“I deserve better than that,” I snarl at myself—at the body that’s grown slower, heavier, and stiffer over the years. I hate the weakness that comes with age. When I look in the mirror, I hardly recognize the man I once was. My reflection always repulses me. Shannon didn’t seem to mind who she saw when she looked at me. There was always love shining in her eyes and her touches were always so tender and soft. She made me feel like the man I once was.
My poor, poor ShayShay.
She’d been my reason for retiring. My reason to live. When I found her, so sweet and innocent at that farmer’s market, I knew she was my prize. After all these years of avoiding the police, the private detectives, and keyboard warriors, Shannon was my reward. She was the sign I’d been looking for. There had been something about her that made it easy to ignore that need to draw blood—suppressing it until all I needed was her.
The pain that comes with her loss… It runs deep. It’s splitting me apart down the middle like an imaginary frisson. A shudder runs through me. I gasp, needing to fill my lungs with air despite it being difficult to do. Clearing my throat, I go through my contacts and find the number I need. I push call and wait. The phone rings five times before there’s an answer.
“Hello?”
“Officer Roman,” I greet.
There’s a short pause before he hisses in a low voice, “Oh, fuck. I know you’re not calling me from your personal phone, Ronny.”
“Couldn’t be helped,” I spit back as I cut across a street. “I’ve found myself in a bit of a pickle. I need some medical aid.”
There’s a scoff. “Oh yeah? What happened?”
“There was an incident. I’ve been stabbed a couple times. I need to be stitched up, and you know I can’t go to the hospital for this,” I tell him as I leap over a short fence between townhouses. The hard landing causes me to grunt in pain and stumble forward. Fuck, I’m starting to get lightheaded.
“Stabbed? By who?” Officer Roman asks in alarm.
“Doesn’t matter,” I reply with a deep growl. I won’t tell him that it was Thatcher and Sagan Hunt. They’re mine to handle. “I need you to meet me at my safehouse. Then I need you to send guys over to my place and remove Shannon’s body. I need it to be discreet.”
I can’t have this be a whole thing. Angel Eyes is supposed to be dead, which means I’m supposed to be lying low. Getting the police involved in this will only be an unnecessary obstacle between me and the people who killed my wife. Besides, there is incriminating evidence of my past kills in that house. There’s no way I’m getting caught now after all these years. Officer Roman has guys outside the force he can send to do the work necessary to clean this mess up.
“ Excuse me ?” Officer Roman demands. “Let me make sure I got this straight. Someone got the better of you , they killed your wife, and now you want me to make her disappear and fix you up to… what? Go get revenge?”
“Sounds about right, Roman,” I tell him. “Now, I’ll be there in?—”
“No, wait. I’m not helping you with this,” Officer Roman cuts in sharply. “Look, whatever arrangement you think we have, we don’t. I thought you were done with this killing shit. I entertained you by giving you a few trackers—which, by the way, my boss is on my ass for since you haven’t given them back yet—but I didn’t think you were falling back into old habits.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not. This is about?—”
“This is about an old man who doesn’t get he’s not who he once was. This sounds like a fucking mess! Your wife is dead, and why? Was it worth it?” There’s a sound of disgust on the end of the line. “You’re on your own with this shit. There’s no way I’m letting you drag me down with you.”
I blink in surprise and pull the phone away to glare at it before I return it to my ear.
“I’m going to let you rethink your answer,” I snarl back as fury unravels. “Because maybe you forgot who you were talking to.”
There’s a bark of laughter, full of incredulousness. “Last time I checked, Angel Eyes , you needed me. Not the other way around. Here’s my advice; find a nice nursing home. Regale the staff with your tales of bloody victory and let them think you’re senile and then die. Ok? This is fucking nuts. I can’t believe you called me for this.”
Before I can respond, the line goes dead.
I stop in my tracks to stare at my phone in surprise. That motherfucker… How dare he downplay my importance? I’m a legend?—
“Lost, Angels Eyes?”
My body stiffens. The voice came from somewhere in the shadows of the dark and deserted gas station I’m about to pass.
The gas station in front of me.
Shit.
I’m five blocks away from my safehouse —it’s the ideal distance in case Shannon and I needed to run and lay low. The place isn’t too far that it couldn’t be reached by foot, but just far enough away if the police ever did a sweep around the perimeter of my house, they wouldn’t extend it this far. I never expected the reason I would need it would be because of two fucking assholes like the Hunt twins.
“How bold of you to come after me after what you’ve done to my wife. Are you stupid?” I ask, turning to face the building. I don’t see any movement, or any darker shadows, but I know there’s a Hunt there somewhere. “Eager for your death?”
There’s no answer. No taunts, no wicked chuckle. Just the sound of silence greets me. Mentally, I take inventory of my wounds and how I feel. There’s pain for sure and my right hand is useless. But, rolling my shoulders and pushing through the fiery agony that comes with the motion, I know I can take them both. I was created to be unstoppable.
Something I’ve learned during my time on this earth is that people are normally ruled by their emotions. Fear causes paralysis, panic can instill irrationality, and fury can cause impulsivity and recklessness. I just need to find the right strings to tug, and these two will be putty in my hands.
“Did you enjoy my gift?” I ask the shadows. “Your twink had such nice eyes. I thought you’d want a memento.”
Tearing my gaze from the edges of the building, I look around where the empty gas pumps sit. There’s no movement there either. Shifting direction, I shoot the closed Thai restaurant a suspicious glance. Am I mistaken? Did the voice come from over there? Time ticks by, but I get no response. I try again, a smile pulling the corners of my mouth upward.
“I have another gift, though it’s more for me than you. Do you want to know where I’ve hid it?” I call out as I start moving again. “Your stepsister is carrying it in her womb.”
If she’s pregnant—though I’m skeptical about that, given I only possessed her for a few days—then I’ll be back for the child. It’s mine. It belongs to me and Shannon.
Headlights flash down the street. I grin, knowing that as I walk toward the sidewalk, the Hunt twins won’t strike. Not with a potential witness around. My eyes continue to scan the darkness. I can feel eyes on me—tracking me. Why aren’t they responding? Are they trying to catch me by surprise? That won’t happen. I can see in every direction right now. Plus, that car is still coming. Its headlights cast me in a pool of light.
Just to make sure I’m unreachable, I step out into the street—keeping to the opposite side of the road so I don’t get hit.
“She felt good wrapped around my cock, you know. Nothing like my sweet Shannon, but her pussy was good enough that cumming wasn’t all that hard,” I continue to taunt. “Do you want to know how many times I came in that cunt? Filled up that womb?”
I don’t particularly care for this type of talk about women. It’s not right. They don’t deserve the disrespect. I’m all about equality. That’s why I killed men and women alike. One wasn’t better than the other. But I know if someone talked about Shannon this way, it would get under my skin.
“ So many times,” I call loudly. My pace quickens as I continue toward my safehouse. Once inside, I’ll have my tools and a space I know well. If they want to come after me on my own turf while I’m settled inside, they have a death wish.
Not that I haven’t already marked them as dead.
Creeping and killing on my territory. Killing my dear, sweet Shannon. Then daring to attempt to kill me. There are so many indiscretions I can’t let slide. I should never have let them move freely in my city for so long. That was my mistake. Curiosity and a little boredom have bit me in the ass. Next time, I won’t hesitate to put a stop to any threats that roll into town.
“Don’t like my surprise?” I shout before chuckling. “Shame. I’ll take it back from you when Beatrix is done cooking it up. Maybe I’ll take her with me then as well. You know, now that I’m a fucking widower .”
The word is bitter and heavy on my tongue. My throat tightens as devastation threatens to consume me. Swallowing down the unbridled agony that comes with this fresh loss, I open my mouth to speak again.
“Angel Eyes.” A voice says, far too close for comfort.
I whip around to search for the owner of it. Drenched in the bright headlights of the car heading my way, the rest of the world is too dark for me to make out much of anything. Just as my eyes land on an outline of someone standing on the sidewalk across the street, a wall of metal hits me from the side.
There’s no pain. Not right away. Not when I’m struck or when my body finally hits the ground after soaring a few feet in the air. But when the pain does arrive, I’m surprised by it. I’ve never felt anything like this before. It’s electrifying and breathtaking, red hot and bewildering in its intensity.
When I gasp for air, the motion is full of anguish. My head spins as I try to get my bearings. The cool ground beneath my cheek is no comfort as the pain rattles through me. I blink the thick liquid leaking into my eyes away. What’s this? More blood? I’m going to bleed out if I don’t get to my safehouse and stitch myself back up. Bracing my palms against the concrete, I try to push up. The motion nearly has me blacking out. How can one person hurt this much? Instead of immediately trying to attempt getting to my feet again, I roll onto my back.
I expect to see the sky overhead. Not a pair of eyes—one green and one brown.
Instantly, I know this is Sagan.
The Hunt twin peers down at me. The dark hair that dangles in his face parts just enough for me to see his expression. I would’ve thought there would be some sign of delight or even fury. But there’s no sign of any emotion whatsoever staring back at me. Sagan’s expressionless features are hard as stone, and his eyes… There’s nothing behind them. It’s just an eerie void.
This shell of a man caught me. A feat even the Chicago police department couldn’t manage. The thought of that is both alarming and infuriating. How did this happen? How did I get here ? The questions get lost as a wiggling worm of panic wraiths around inside me.
“I could kill you right now and be done with you,” Sagan says, his voice just as empty as his expression. Despite the cool chill, the air is thick with fiery malevolence.
I swallow hard as my panic begins to grow. My instincts scream at me to get up and fight. If my body didn’t hurt so bad from the collision, I’d do just that. But even rolling onto my back had been a chore. Trying to get to my feet feels impossible. The reality of the situation hits me just as hard as the car had. I’m a broken old man at the mercy of two killers who have no souls.
A car door opens and closes, and the sound of light footsteps drawing near captures my attention. A moment later, the second Hunt twin appears. Thatcher stands on the opposite side of my body. His expression is equally as empty as his brother’s.
“It was stupid of you to leave the keys in the ignition,” Thatcher says, his voice calm and subdued. “This wasn’t the time to slip up, old man.”
I gape up at the two of them in surprise. They hit me with my own goddamn car! I should’ve hopped in it and driven off, but… apparently, I wasn’t thinking clearly.
“As I followed your bloody trail, I thought of all the ways this could go down,” Sagan muses out loud after a beat of silence. He looks up at his brother. “But then I had an idea that I think we could all rally behind.”
Thatcher meets Sagan’s gaze. There’s a wordless communication that passes between them. It’s quick and when they’re done, a smile stretches across Thatcher’s face. His eyes drop to my face.
“The decision has been made. Ready to go for your last ride, Ronny?”
“It’s… Angel Eyes to you,” I growl through clenched teeth.
“Right, the dead serial killer,” Thatcher nods placatingly. “We’ll make sure you live up to that soon enough. But first, we’re going to have some fun with you.”
Together, the twins crouch down and lift me up.
“Get… off… of me.” Talking is hard. I’m pretty sure my jaw is fractured and judging by the well of blood gathering in my mouth, I think I’ve bitten half my tongue off.
Neither twin says anything. They simply drag me over to the car, my car, and throw me into the back. They don’t know that there’s duct tape or rope beneath the floor cover, but they don’t need that to subdue me.
All they have to do is punch me just right.
And when they do, all lights go out.