31. Gwen
Ipress the tip of the blade under Ben’s chin, watching his pupils dilate in fear. He tries to force muffled screams from behind the gag, but it seems he’s too afraid to thrash his head back and forth anymore. Probably for the best.
Charlie’s fingers trail up my arm as he presses his lip to the corner of my jaw. My head swims pleasantly, and I let my eyes flutter shut just for a moment as I lean into the sensation.
“Playing with your food, mia filettatura?” Charlie whispers into my skin, and the smile that spreads across my lips is impossible to suppress.
“He deserves it,” I say, feeling a small trickle of blood flow down my fingers. The boat rocks again, and I lean against Charlie for support.
We’ve been out here for a few hours with Ben. His body is littered with slices and bruises, evidence of our time together. Charlie has praised me multiple times for how much I’ve learned, based on the fact that Ben is still alive.
Charlie unties Ben’s gag, and he immediately starts screaming for help, which is useless. There’s no one around us for miles. The little yacht we’re on is nice—it’s a shame it’ll be at the bottom of the ocean soon.
“You’re certain I can’t have your mother join us?” Charlie asks, close to my ear so I can hear him over Ben.
I had thought about whether my mother deserved this. If she had hurt me and Ana enough that I could put a knife or bullet through her heart. Or at least ask Charlie to do it.
But after significant consideration, I decided I couldn’t. Even after everything that had happened between us, I know she once loved me. Maybe she still does, in her own way.
“Thank you, my love, but no,” I reply, palming the handle of the knife while the boat settles. “I’m getting exactly what I want.”
Ben’s cries turn to whimpers as my husband wraps his arms around my middle from behind, pulling me against him. I can feel him, hard and straining against the zipper of his pants, and I arch my ass against him with a smile. It never gets old, this feeling when we kill together.
Charlie huffs a laugh into my neck and separates our bodies, busying himself with a wide variety of blades and tools. Ben’s eyes grow wide in fear, and he yanks against his restraints again. Desperate to save a life worth nothing.
“You’re going to get caught,” he pants, his voice desperate and cracking under the weight of his screams. Charlie takes a seat at the table on the other side of the room. “I’m your sister’s father. Someone’s going to make the connection.”
“Honestly, thank you for the opportunity to talk about this, because I’m so proud of how we got around that,” I say, stabbing the knife directly into his thigh. I can hear Charlie’s laugh over the sound of Ben destroying his own vocal chords. I might be enjoying this a little too much.
“It took some patience, which is not my virtue,” I sigh, slipping into Charlie’s lap. His hands wrap around my thighs as I sink into him. One hand settles on my hip before dragging up the side of my shirt and drawing indiscernible shapes on my ribs. “But we have a friend who was extremely helpful in setting up as much distance between us as possible. And setting you up for a very tragic downfall.”
Ben struggles for a moment, but the pain must be overwhelming, because he lets out a cry that fills me with vindictive glee. Emily really has been a godsend with all of this. It’s taken months, but we’ve laid all the evidence we needed to. Manipulated Ben’s accounts to make it seem like he’s withdrawn sizeable sums of cash at regular intervals. Planted rumors with his staff and neighbors that he’s getting involved in even less credible businesses than before.
Maybe I’m cocky, but it feels surprisingly easy to convince the world that Ben would be involved in an unfortunate incident of drug trafficking gone terribly bad.
“Please,” he begs, and I’m relieved we’ve gotten to the bargaining stage. As much as I’m enjoying my vengeance, I’m starving. “Please, I’m sorry about the whole money thing. How about I pay you back for the treatment, huh?”
“You can’t honestly believe that money is the issue here,” Charlie scoffs, and I scratch my nails against his thigh. “I bought this boat just to kill you on. Well, technically, you bought this boat, Ben. But we both know how fickle finances can be.”
I’m lucky enough not to know yet how it feels to face death. I’m sure that I’ll be surprised by my reaction when I do. But I certainly didn’t expect Ben to start bawling. He’s incomprehensible, begging and screaming for his life, with spit and snot mingling with his tears as he chokes on his own saliva. It’s pathetic.
I turn in Charlie”s lap and throw my arms around his shoulders, touching my nose to his. He’s so beautiful. I don’t say it enough, but he really is. Hair messy, smile kind, that devoted and lovesick look in his eyes. The feeling in my chest, like I could turn and find him in a crowd no matter how many people surrounded us, is always there. Pulsing like a living thing between us.
“Take me home, Charlie,” I whisper, brushing my lips against his. He presses my body against his, and the sounds of everything around us slip away as he kisses me.
“Anything for you, mio filo,” he says.
An hour later we’re walking along the shore, Emily having dropped us off at a private dock before taking off up the shoreline. On the horizon, there are no emergency boats. No investigation. Not even a ripple where the yacht sunk under the night sky.
Even if there is an inquiry into Ben’s disappearance, there’s nearly one hundred thousand dollars’ worth of cocaine in the hull of that ship, safe in watertight containers. Emily’s permanent career should be alibis and cover stories.
There are never a ton of stars in the D.C. night sky, but as we walk toward where Zane is supposed to meet us, I feel like I see more of them than usual. Bright and winking, they follow us on our path as we walk hand in hand, husband and wife, into the night.