21. Chapter Twenty-One Tristan
Chapter Twenty-One: Tristan
B lood had seeped into the crevices of the old living room floor. Kieran and I moved methodically, scrubbing away the evidence of the night's work. Our movements were silent, save for the occasional slosh of water and rustle of plastic. I eyed the crimson stains darkening the rags—reminders of what we had to do.
"Kieran," I murmured, my voice a low thrum in the quiet of the Delaware hideout, "once we're back in Boston, it's going to be a damn minefield."
He paused, his eyes lifting from the stained wood to meet mine. There was an understanding there, a shared knowledge of the dangers that waited for us back home.
"Nick Rossi won't take this lying down, and Bellamy? That bastard's just looking for a reason to come after me." The names felt like lead on my tongue, each one a potential bullet aimed at our heads.
“I mean, you’re going to have to kill him,” Kieran said. “Though I can do it, if you’d like. I’m feeling very used.”
I chuckled darkly, shaking my head. "Nah, lad. This one's on me. Bellamy's had it coming for a long time."
We fell into silence again, the rhythmic scrubbing filling the air. My mind raced with plans and contingencies, each scenario more grim than the last.
"What about the police? I know law's the least of our worries, but even they've got longer arms when it comes to guys like us." I tossed a bloodied rag into the black bag with more force than necessary. It wasn't just about getting rid of the physical traces; it was about staying two steps ahead of those who'd want us dead or behind bars.
"Let them come, Tristan," Kieran replied, straightening up, his dark hair falling into his eyes. "We'll handle it, like we always do. Together."
“You’re not worried about the cops?”
He smirked. “I might be sleeping with a legal assistant to the DA,” he said. “She’s clerking for him and, I mean, she doesn’t tell me anything she shouldn’t, but I do know that right now, they have bigger fish to fry than our families.”
I couldn't help but laugh, shaking my head at my brother's audacity. "Of course you are. Jesus, Kieran, you've got balls of steel."
He shrugged, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "What can I say? I'm a man of many talents."
I wiped the last of the blood from the countertop, the cool marble a silent witness to our grim task. The Delaware house was quiet except for the methodical sounds of cleanup—the snap of latex gloves, the rustle of plastic as we worked to erase any hint of violence that had stained its walls.
"We still need to deal with the bodies," I said, my voice low and grim. The weight of the situation pressed down on us, heavier than the corpses we'd soon have to move.
Kieran nodded, his eyes dark with concentration. "River's our best bet. Cut 'em up, weigh 'em down, let the current do the rest."
“Isn’t the river frozen over? I probably need a little refresher on Delaware geography.”
"Shit, you're right," Kieran muttered, running a hand through his dark hair. "I forgot we're not in Boston anymore. This damn Delaware winter's got everything iced over."
I leaned against the kitchen counter, my mind racing through our limited options. The bodies in the next room were a ticking time bomb. We needed to act fast.
"What about the ocean?" I suggested. "It's not far, and the currents would carry any evidence far out to sea."
Kieran's eyes lit up. "That could work. We'd need to drive a bit, but it's doable. Less chance of being spotted too, especially at night."
I nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope. "Alright, let's finish up here and prep for transport. We'll need tarps, weights, a chainsaw..."
My voice trailed off as I mentally catalogued the grisly supplies we'd need.
“We have the tarps and we have the chainsaw. What do we need the weights for?”
I raised an eyebrow at Kieran. "You really want to risk those bodies washing up on some family beach? We need to make damn sure they sink and stay sunk."
“I mean, I knew that. I just thought they might wash away.”
“Or they might end up in the Hamptons,” I said. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Look, we can't take any chances. These bodies need to disappear completely."
Kieran grimaced, nodding in agreement. "Right, good point. We don't need some rich kid stumbling on our handiwork during spring break."
I pushed away from the counter, my muscles aching from hours of scrubbing. "Let's get moving. We'll need to hit a hardware store for the weights. Maybe grab some heavy chains too."
We moved through the house, gathering our supplies with practiced efficiency. The chainsaw's weight felt familiar in my hands, a grim reminder of the task ahead. As we loaded the car, the predawn sky began to lighten, painting the quiet suburban street in shades of gray.
"We should move fast," I muttered, glancing at the neighboring houses. "Don't want any early risers getting curious about our little road trip."
Kieran slammed the trunk shut, his face set in a determined mask. "I'll drive. You look like shit, Tristan. Get some rest while you can."
I didn't argue, sliding into the passenger seat with a grunt. Kieran loaded my wheelchair in the backseat, because we were going to need the trunk.
I watched in the rearview mirror as Kieran loaded the bodies into the trunk, his movements quick and efficient. The suburban street was still quiet, houses dark and peaceful. If anyone looked out their window right now, they'd see two brothers loading up for an early fishing trip. They'd have no idea of the grim cargo we carried.
As Kieran slid into the driver's seat, I felt the weight of exhaustion settle over me. The adrenaline that had kept me going was fading, leaving behind a bone-deep weariness.
"You good?" Kieran asked, his voice low as he started the engine.
I nodded, leaning my head back against the seat. "Yeah. Let's just get this done."
I wasn’t good. Everything hurt. Everything.
But that was better than not feeling my legs, so I tried to take deep breaths and ignore the faint metallic scent of blood that lingered in the air.
As we pulled away from the curb, the first rays of sunlight began to peek over the horizon. I closed my eyes, trying to find a moment of peace amidst the chaos. The gentle hum of the engine and the rhythmic sway of the car threatened to lull me into sleep, but my mind refused to quiet.
I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, Kieran was shaking me awake. "We're here," he said softly.
Blinking away the remnants of sleep, I looked around. We were parked in a deserted lot near the beach. The ocean stretched out before us, a vast expanse of dark, churning water. The sky was overcast, matching my grim mood.
"How long was I out?" I asked, straightening up in my seat.
"About an hour," Kieran replied, his eyes scanning our surroundings. "It's still early. We should be okay."
I nodded, steeling myself for what came next. "Let's do this."
I reached for the door, but Kieran stopped me. “Listen,” he said. “You should stay here.”
“What?”
But that was better than not feeling my legs, so I tried to take deep breaths and ignore the faint metallic scent of blood that lingered in the air.
As we pulled away from the curb, the first rays of sunlight began to peek over the horizon. I closed my eyes, trying to find a moment of peace amidst the chaos. The gentle hum of the engine and the rhythmic sway of the car threatened to lull me into sleep, but my mind refused to quiet.
“Adriana and the babies?” I asked.
“I got a text from Carmen. They’ve checked into a hotel. All four of them are alright.”
I nodded, relief washing over me. At least they were safe for now. The image of Adriana's face, etched with worry as the two of them carried the twins out the door, flashed through my mind. I pushed it away, focusing on the task at hand.
"Good," I muttered. "We'll need to move them again soon. Can't risk staying in one place too long."
Kieran hummed in agreement, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. The sky was lightening rapidly, the darkness giving way to a pale, watery dawn.
I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, Kieran was shaking me awake. "We're here," he said softly.
Blinking away the remnants of sleep, I looked around. We were parked in a deserted lot near the beach. The ocean stretched out before us, a vast expanse of dark, churning water. The sky was overcast, matching my grim mood.
"How long was I out?" I asked, straightening up in my seat.
"About an hour," Kieran replied, his eyes scanning our surroundings. "It's still early. We should be okay."
I nodded, steeling myself for what came next. "Let's do this."
I reached for the door, but Kieran stopped me. “Listen,” he said. “You should stay here.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
I stared at Kieran in disbelief. "What do you mean, stay here? We're in this together."
Kieran's eyes softened with concern. "Tristan, you're exhausted. And let's be honest, the beach isn't exactly wheelchair-friendly. I can handle this part on my own."
I clenched my jaw, frustration and anger bubbling up inside me. "I'm not some invalid, Kieran. I've been doing this job just as long as you have. Longer than you have.”
“I know, but look, if someone sees us…they’ll be able to see your silhouette with the chair, right? And the sand will be hard to navigate no matter what.”
I glared at Kieran, anger and frustration warring inside me. But as much as I hated to admit it, he had a point. My wheelchair would be a liability on the beach, and we couldn't afford any mistakes.
“Okay. I’ll walk.”
“Tristan…”
"Don't 'Tristan' me," I growled, pushing open the car door. "I'm not sitting this out. End of discussion."
“You’re so stubborn. It’s not endearing.”
“It’s a little endearing.”
I gritted my teeth as I swung my legs out of the car, my muscles protesting every movement. The cold air hit me like a slap, sending a shiver down my spine. Kieran hovered nearby, his face a mask of concern.
"You sure about this?" he asked, his voice low.
"I'm sure," I grunted, pushing myself to my feet. My legs trembled, but I forced them to hold my weight. "Let's just get this over with."