Chapter 59 Kane
KANE
“Kill him,” Asher says as I wait in an empty office. “Kill his wife like he took yours.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I snap, pacing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows.
I don’t know where Sasha managed to get the mirrored mask from.
I’ll have to thank her because it makes his eyes widen when he enters his office.
All my research into his life has revealed a formidable man with his young wife.
A man who isn’t afraid to stand between his clients and their abusers as a shield.
Right now, he’s afraid.
I copy Rowan as I say, “Mr. Mannix, it’s time to repay your debt.” I hit send on the pre-drafted message to Sasha to lock all the exits in case the dumb fuck tries to run.
“I’ve been expecting you.” His voice comes out steady despite the way his chest moves faster with each word.
In the years of watching targets, I’ve learnt how to assess their body language, preempt what they’ll do. Delilah was the first I watched though. She at least used to surprise me. Decker doesn’t as he tries to hide his phone behind his leg.
I lift my phone, playing the clip I created.
“Decker!” his wife cries. Well, she wasn’t his wife when it was recorded. All my scouring on the dark web helped me find the footage Rowan sold of their time as captives.
It’s because of that footage his face falls. He knows how I feel now, that gut-wrenching, soul-deep agony of losing the one person who calms everything.
“Don’t fucking touch her,” he grits.
His emotions cloud his perception. It’s why he doesn’t notice her voice echoing or how she sounds younger, or how the pitch is the exact same as what he’s previously lived through as she screams, “Decker! Please!”
She’s fucking stubborn. It took me hours to find one clip of her begging to use for this very moment, but the sound of Decker’s head hitting the concrete provides a satisfying crack which may as well put a leash around his neck when her screaming abruptly stops.
Eyes fixed on my phone, he rushes forward like he’ll be able to reach through the device to help her.
He’d also need the power of time travel since his wife is currently at home putting their daughter to bed.
She’s probably reading her a story, sneaking in a few last hugs while she does.
All things I can’t fucking have because my wife was taken from me while these fuckers found freedom.
After his fucking wife killed my beautiful boy.
She cradled his small body, rocked him, her arms touching his bare back, and held him on her thighs when I promised no one would ever touch him without it being his choice.
Death doesn’t nullify my promise or his ability to choose what happens to his body.
“What about the dead you violated?” Asher unhelpfully asks.
I ignore him in favor of the desperate lawyer.
There’s no sympathy as I lift the phone to the front of the mask, making sure the screen is light so he can see the false call recording screen I created.
I look at him, at the loss on his face, the despair and desperation.
It’s ironic I’m the one who has a mirror covering my features, yet he’s reflecting my own emotions back to me as I say, “Keep her warm.” I smile behind my mask.
“Or would you prefer if she was cold, Mr. Mannix?”
“Fuck you,” he spits. “Let her go.”
“Would you cry for her?”
“I already fucking have.”
“Would you die for her?”
“I already have,” he repeats.
“What would you give up to keep her safe?” I slip my phone into my pocket.
“My life,” he says without a second thought. “You will not take her back to that fucking place.”
“Easy now, I only want to have a conversation.” I hold my hands up. “How did you find Rowan?”
He just watches me. It’s annoying as fuck. Sasha will be getting hungry. She doesn’t do well around people. If his hesitation harms the only person I have left in my life, I’ll kill the cunt for taking more from me.
“Tick tock, Mr. Mannix. I’m sure you’d hate it if I ran out of patience.” Copying Rowan’s speech pattern feels too natural, but that’s a thought I can punish later.
“TRR,” he blurts out, staring at my pocket.
I think he’s staring at my pocket, anyway.
It’s only when I try to catch his eyes I realize he’s avoiding the mask.
He doesn’t want to see his reflection like I’ve begun to hate my own.
In other circumstances, we’d be able to bond over our similarities.
Not when he has everything I should. It was supposed to be Delilah who was saved, not him or the woman.
It was supposed to be the two of us living happily, away from the fuckers.
“What’s TRR?” I ask.
A small crease forms between his brows as he looks to the side of my head, his breathing more erratic. “The Rainbow Rooms. They have an event tomorrow.”
The Good Samaritan lawyer isn’t as scared as he’s making himself out to be if he’s keeping tabs on Rowan. I take a step closer as I ask, “How do you know?”
Decker doesn’t move back or freeze; he stands his ground. I overestimated his fear, but he doesn’t have a weapon since he was in court earlier today. Instead, he has his own set of questions. “You’re not working with him, are you?”
“Does anyone really work with the Devil? Or are we all pawns in his path because the creator told him no?”
“I can help you.” He takes a step closer as he sags his shoulders to come across non-threatening. “I’ll give you everything I have, but you’re going to let my wife go first.”
“Or what?” I laugh. “Do you really believe you’re in a position, to what? Negotiate with me? Every man knows the bond of marriage is sacred. I am the one in the position to sever yours. Not you.”
“Or I use the information I have to tell him one of his guards has gone rogue. He’s already hiding because people have gotten too close to killing him. What do you think will happen to you if he thinks it’s because someone betrayed him?”
Fuck, he knows it was me who helped the cunts. Is that why Rowan has hidden Delilah from me? He left Sasha too. She was starving when I found her using a hat she’d found in the snow in place of her mask.
“Give me all the details you have,” I say, stepping out of the way so he can go to his desk.
He nearly trips over his own feet in his haste to get to the other side of the room.
“Reach for a weapon, your wife dies.” I take my knife in one hand as he pulls different books off the shelves.
“I’m not risking her life.” More books clatter to the floor around his feet to reveal a small notch in the wall. There’s a muted green light inside of it, then the telltale click of a safe being unlocked as he reaches into it.
“Why would a lawyer have a hidden compartment?” Asher asks. “Kill him first.”
I shake my head, intrigued at what’s been hidden. There’s no self-preservation regarding my life when I’m more in love with the thought of death than existence.
“If you want to die, why are you looking for Delilah?”
I shrug.
“Do you think she’ll want you now? How much blood is on your hands, Kane? Think about it. Really think. If she thought I was a monster when I hadn’t taken a life, what will she think about you when you fucked them?”
Decker silences Asher as he turns with three sleek black external hard drives. “This is everything I have. It covers the last five years. Let my wife go, it’s yours.”
“Put them on the desk.” I gesture to it with my knife.
“Then tie yourself to the table leg.” The handcuffs I found in his desk drawer are already on the floor waiting for him.
He doesn’t waste my time as he drops the three drives on the glass desk then lowers to the floor, clicking the cuffs around his wrists with the chain threaded around the leg.
“You’ll let her go now,” he urges.
Collecting the hard drives, I shrug. “I’ll think about it.” I walk out, him screaming at my back as I send Sasha a message to unlock one elevator. She’s a fast learner, considering we only had a week to practice, and does it straight away as she replies with her favorite word.
S:
Hungry.
Me:
I know, crazy pants. I’ll get you a snack.
When I reach her in the parking garage, pride warms me. Instead of removing the bike helmet like I thought, she’s kept it on, so no one sees her mask. I lightly shake the top of it as I softly say, “Good job, little one. Ready to eat now?”
“Yes,” she groans, rubbing her stomach. “Did you get what you needed?”
“Yeah.” I guide her to the bike I stole and get on, making sure it’s steady for her as she climbs onto the cushioned pad above the back wheel. Her thin fingers grip my hoodie, choking me. I can’t help my laugh as I remove the mirrored mask, swapping it for a helmet that won’t raise suspicion.
She’s even funnier when she trembles. “Don’t make me fall.”
“We’re not even moving.”
Sasha’s fear wouldn’t be funny if she wasn’t so fucking crazy.
She eats human flesh, kills people without batting an eye, and throws a fucking mean left hook, but she can’t stop shaking as I drive out of the parking garage.
I’m not even going the speed limit. That’s how slow we’re crawling as I reach behind me to wrap her quaking arms around me.
Our slow speed allows us to see the lawyer as he speeds past us with the broken cuffs dangling from his wrist. She clearly forgot to lock the elevators again, but I lightly squeeze her forearm so she doesn’t get upset.
We blend in while he cuts lanes, goes on the opposite side of the road, driving through red lights, but the dark sky and glare from other vehicles prevents him from noticing us following.
I already know where he’s going so I turn, cutting through side streets that would slow him down until I pull up outside of the Charles-Oliver residence. Sasha squeezes me, hissing through the linked comms, “I said I’m hungry.”
“A little longer, crazy pants.”
I watch the gates open as tires squeal behind me.
Decker doesn’t slow down, ruining his bumper as he clips the curb.
His brakes screech as he abruptly stops in the driveway, one tire on the manicured lawn, and the front door flies open before he’s out of the car.
This is true fear. What he showed me in his office wasn’t.
He can’t hide it as he runs around the car, down the path to meet his wife, who’s poking her head out of the front door with a little girl on her hip.
“I thought it was your brother.” I’m close enough to hear her as he cups each of their cheeks, physically inspecting them. “Why are you driving like that?”
He kisses their foreheads, one by one, then again and again like he’s praying to them as the little girl shrieks through her giggles. “Daddy!”
He shakes his head, ushering them inside. The fog lights around the property turn on as soon as the door slams, illuminating everything in a harsh white light.
This should be my life.
I should be coming home to Delilah, Kid at her side, our teenager rolling their eyes behind her rather than Sasha headbutting me as her stomach rumbles.