Chapter 23 #2
“I’d suggest you forget you were ever here. I’ll do the same. If people find out you’re snooping around—”
I swung.
When I hit the side of his face as hard as I could, he spun and dropped to the ground. I leaped on top of him and raised it again.
“Why did you rape my mother? And why did they kill her? Why was she there that night?” I screamed, lifting the tray again.
“Evie.” Sebastian’s voice pulled me from Dourif. I turned and saw him extending his knife to me. I took it, and slowly, my eyes returned to the man I was sitting on.
“I suggest you answer something,” I said.
“Pick one, then,” he spat.
“The rape. Why did you rape her?”
“It wasn’t my idea. We were told to. She was making a lot of demands, and he—they wanted to teach her a lesson.”
“What lesson?”
“To let dead dogs lie.” His eyes narrowed. “Sound familiar?”
“Anthony C. Hopkins, Evie. You’re bad at this,” Sebastian muttered and leaned over, snatching the knife back. He swung the knife down quickly, stabbing Dourif in the shoulder. He yanked it out and then handed it back to me.
Dourif screamed and tried to buck me off.
Sebastian yelled over him. “Come on, Final Girl. Let’s finish this.”
“What was she demanding?” I asked, watching the blood spill out from his shoulder.
He snickered. “Money, of course. What everyone in this fucking town wants.”
“My mother had money. Why would she want more?” I asked through gritted teeth.
Suddenly, he lifted his head and grinned. “For you. She wanted your daddy to cough up some child support. Give you an inheritance. There was only one problem.”
I shook my head. That didn’t sound like her.
“What was the issue?” Sebastian asked.
Dourif laughed dryly. “She didn’t know which one of us it was.”
What?
No.
“Do it,” Sebastian muttered.
I looked at the knife in my hands.
One of the men on my list was my father?
I fell to the side, and looking at the man who may potentially share half my DNA, I grew sick. I scurried back until I hit the coffee table.
My stomach rolled hard. Bolting over on all fours, I gagged and promptly vomited all over the floor.
“Oh, Jesus H. Christ, girl, get ahold of yourself.” Jason stumbled to his feet, holding his open wound. He wheezed as he dragged himself to the bar, grabbing a rag to stuff the hole in his shoulder. “Having me for your daddy wouldn’t be that bad.”
“You were just trying to fuck her a few minutes ago,” Sebastian said, rolling his eyes.
Jason pointed sternly at him with his empty hand. “I don’t want to hear from you right now. You’ve made my shit list. You’re lucky you’ve already made a name for yourself. Otherwise, I’d make sure you never got work again.”
I stared at the two men sparring with their words. Sebastian didn’t look the least bit fazed.
This man could be my father? I wiped the vomit from my mouth and climbed to my feet. I joined him at the bar, going behind it to pour some water from the small sink underneath. I swished the liquid in my mouth and spit, and then looked back at Jason.
“There’s no fucking way she’d do that to her child.”
Jason scoffed. “What do you mean? I come from a long line of Southern gentlemen. You’d be lucky to get these genes. Unfortunately, I doubt it was me. You’re a bit too tan to be my baby, darlin’. I had to get this at a salon.” He lifted his orange, leathery hand.
My stomach rolled again. I inhaled deeply, trying to shove the nausea away. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Sebastian quietly picking up the knife I’d discarded when I scurried away from Jason. He saw me looking and put a finger to his lips to silence me.
“If you’re not my dad, then which one of you is it? It’ll save me a whole lot of time if I can just go right to the bastard.” I came around the bar to stand beside him, leaning my elbows on the counter.
Jason was struggling to breathe. While Sebastian hadn’t hit a lung, it was still painful, I was sure. He turned his head toward me and smirked.
“Now, why would I tell you that? It’d ruin the surprise.” A slow grin spread across his face as Sebastian came over, finishing his can.
Using it as an excuse, he went around the bar to toss the can in the trash, and as he did, he slid the knife into my hand behind my back. Jason didn’t notice. He kept on talking.
“You missed your chance. I knew you were too chickenshit to end my life, Little Lita. Just like—” Dourif was cut off by me swinging my arm and plunging the knife straight into his neck.
The puncture made a sickening wet sound, and I could feel the veins and muscles I’d hit as the knife went in.
I yanked the knife out, and blood sprayed my front, going into my mouth and eyes.
He tripped forward, grabbing for me. I leaped out of his reach, and his eyes widened as he stared ahead.
His body hit the ground with a thud. The sound of his throat gurgling was low under the music still pumping through the speakers.
He twitched and a moment later fell limp. Wiping my face, I spit out the blood that had gotten in my mouth, and I inhaled deeply and looked over at Sebastian.
“I really hope this fucking creep wasn’t my dad.”