Chapter 34
HATCH
The cool March breeze drifting through the opening is a welcome change from the warm, musty room, so I leave it alone. If Frog tries to scream again and wake the neighbors, I’ll just make the kill quicker.
I cross to the desk and pull open the drawer.
Frog groans as his head rolls back. “What… what’re you gonna do to me… now?”
I pull out an injector and roll it between my fingers, watching the moonlight catch the clear barrel.
“You asked how I handled the Smoke. It’s because of that little princess.” I jut my chin to the door Dinah and Harry left through, then tap the syringe. “And this.”
I step closer. “What’d you call the drugs you gave Lucy back then? The ‘good stuff?’”
His eyes lock onto the syringe, his reaction immediate. Recognition, need, fear. All three flash across his face before he can hide them.
I chuckle, and I’m pretty sure the smile stretching across my face looks far from sane.
“Well, Froggy? This ain’t the good stuff. This is Diphenhydranitrozine, an experi—”
“Jesus Christ,” Frog mutters, the color instantly draining from his face.
My smile drops. “You know about it.”
I take another step closer and he flinches, his gaze never leaving the needle.
“It’s experimental,” I continue. “Not even broadly available in the States yet. My brother had to pull enough strings to knit a sweater to get it for me.”
I crouch so my face sits directly behind the syringe in his line of sight.
“So how do you know about it, Frog?”
He gulps. Then his eyes flick to mine. “L-Let me guess.” His voice shakes. “D-Didn’t work so well for the cat until you started working at the Hole? Maybe even built up to near-lethal doses?”
Wariness prickles the base of my skull.
“Yeah,” I say slowly.
He gives one quick nod. “Thought so.” His tongue wets his split lip. “I-I don’t know all about it. But… let’s just say while it don’t work so great for mundane shit… you weren’t exactly using it off-label when it comes to Smoke. C-Castle uses a version of it himself.”
My pulse kicks up. “How do you know that?”
“He’s offered it to Jabber a few times,” Frog swallows. “Offered me some last night too. Said it’d keep my head clearer.”
“And you didn’t take it?”
“Why the fuck would I? I like the high.” He huffs a laugh that turns into a cough, the new wheeze behind it no doubt brought on by a broken rib or two. “I was surprised he even offered. That shit’s expensive from what I hear.”
The pieces start clicking together.
“He offered because he knew you’d say no.” My thoughts race. “Lucy said you were there to get information from her. But if he knew you were going to be just as useless at questioning her, then there was another reason why he wanted you in that room.”
I frown as I uncap the injector. “There’s still more to all this, isn’t there? More than getting information from Lucy. More than drawing me out. More than just getting rid of you… But what is it?”
“I don’t fucking know!” he blurts, eyes on the needle.
“Hmm.” His breathing speeds up as I press the needle lightly against his neck. “You sure about that?”
“S-someone’s coming! H-He made deals with someone—I think.” The words tumble out. “They were interested after he sent out feelers to find out you were here for Lucy.”
My heart pounds. “When are they coming?”
He actually laughs, a short, hysterical bark that’s cut off when I sink the very tip of the needle into his skin.
“Okay, okay! Stop! You think Castle really shares his calendar with me?” Blood beads where I’ve pricked him as he gives a minute shake of his head.
“He only tells me shit on a need-to-know basis. You said it yourself. I’m expendable.
He handed me over to you on a silver platter.
You think I’m getting invited to strategy meetings? ”
I search his battered face. A broken nose, split lips, one-and-a-half swollen eyes. And underneath it all.
Pure, unadulterated, delicious terror.
“You really don’t want me to drug you with this, hm?” I hum thoughtfully, then stand. “Okay. I believe you.”
Relief floods his face. “You believe me?”
The wind suddenly whips outside, rattling a loose shutter that I really need to help Harry reattach. Fucking creepy.
I glance out the glass door, but there’s nothing but black ocean and white-capped waves.
“Yeah… I believe you,” I murmur, my attention dragging back to Frog.
“Thank fuck.” He slouches in his seat, laughing nervously. “You got what you wanted, so untie me and we can just forget all about this bullshit.”
I snort, then tilt my head.
Every ounce of hatred I feel for him must show on my face because his smile immediately falters.
“Why the fuck would I do that?”
I grin.
“I like the high.”
Understanding hits him a split second before I jam the injector into his neck. His scream comes too late, after I’ve already clamped my hand over his mouth and nose, holding him still as I slowly depress the plunger.
“You hurt someone I care about. You think I’m just gonna let you walk away?”
He tries to scream against my hand, but I grip his face harder.
“I’m gonna give you a taste of your own medicine. You’re gonna feel this poison enter your body just like you forced her to. You’re gonna feel that same terror. And then? Then, Froggy-boy, I’m gonna finish what Lucy started, and make sure you fucking die this time.”
He screams as I drive the plunger to the hilt. I grab the back of his head and keep it steady as the rest of body jerks, rattling the chair beneath him. His eyes bulge, and for a second he thrashes hard enough that I think the zip-ties might actually break.
Then the convulsions start.
Foam replaces his shrieks, spurting between my fingers before I let go. His eyes roll back, and his heels hammer against the floor. The chair tips and crashes while I walk to the sink and wash my hands.
“Huh. Guess it’s good I worked up to my dose,” I chuckle softly as I dry my hands off with a towel.
His chest heaves as his lungs fight for their last breath, and relief, along with a sense of justice, slowly unspool from my tight chest.
By the time he stills, I feel better than I have all night, maybe months. At least when Lucy wasn’t around.
Silence settles over the bungalow, broken only by the ocean’s rolling breaths beyond the walls.
I reach up absently, and am surprised and pleased that my emotional support cigarette survived all the shit I’ve done tonight. I slip it between my lips, then blindly dig through my bag in the dark for a lighter.
I find my ball cap first, and I pop it on backward. A little more riffling later and I finally find my Zippo.
“Fuck yeah,” I mutter. Then I flip it open, flick the striker to ignite, and…
… a terrified pair of wide hazel-blue eyes stares back at me through the flame.
My heart stops. The cigarette falls as my lips numbly move around her name.
“Lucy.”
The wind whips around her white shirt and loose pants. Wisps of strawberry-blond hair have escaped her braid, fluttering over her face. But she doesn’t seem to notice.
One hand is still raised in a loose fist, like she’d been about to knock. Her chest heaves, rapidly rising and falling as she struggles to catch her breath. And her eyes…
Her eyes keep darting between me and the mutilated corpse on the floor.
I slowly, so fucking slowly, set my lighter down and stand. Then I take one careful step toward her.
“Lucy…” I breathe.
Fuck, I don’t know what she heard through the crack in the door. I don’t even know if she can hear me now, but that barely-there whisper is all I can manage.
Because suddenly none of my fear is about Castle. Or Frog. Or the Wildes.
Suddenly, all I’m terrified of… is her.
Lucy seeing me. Who I really am. What I really am.
Lucy. Sees. Me.
And I’ve seen that look on her face before. It’s the same one she had when she saw the syringe.
She’s scared to death.
Of me.
Please don’t run. Please don’t run. Please. Please. Please, baby.
Please don’t fucking run.
“Lucy… don’t…” I say out loud.
She sucks in a sharp breath and snaps her eyes from the dead man, like my plea finally breaks her free from whatever trance she’s been trapped in.
I take another cautious step.
She mirrors me in reverse, backing away.
“Lucy. Please. I can ex—”
She runs.
And every instinct in my body instantly goes after her.