Chapter Thirty-Two #2
"So you do have it," Lucas’s father breathed. His voice wavered, then steadied. "What’ll it take to get it off your hands?"
Nick didn’t respond right away. With the same deliberate calm, he handed me the book, then reached into his pocket and drew out a small blowtorch, the kind you’d find in a hardware store.
He guided my hand, still holding the grimoire, and lit the torch with a loud whoosh.
I hadn’t known this was his plan. It took everything I had not to recoil from the flame. But I held steady.
"Tell me how to reverse it," Nick said. "Or I’ll burn it."
Robert’s face dropped its mask of friendliness. His eyes turned cold.
"You can’t undo what’s been done," he seethed through gritted teeth. "But you can use it for somethin’ worthwhile."
"At what cost?"
Robert smirked. "You’re young, and to you, it’s always black and white. But life’s a lot of gray. Sometimes you gotta choose between the lesser of two evils. Helpin’ the most folks, even if it means one person gets hurt. You could save a whole lot more that way."
"Yeah, right," Nick shot back. "That’s greed dressed up as nobility."
"I ain’t doing this for me."
"Then who for?" Nick pushed. "You’ve got clients, don’t you? Politicians? CEOs? Wealthy people clinging to life by their fingernails? You’re just another dealer. You could be selling meth for all its worth. Feeding drug lords and calling it business."
Something flickered in Robert’s eyes—rage, maybe shame—but he didn’t deny it. "What’s your price for the book?"
"Why do you even need it?" Nick countered. "You’ve clearly been running your little operation without it."
"Why don’t we just put you down and take what’s ours?"
"And risk killing her?" Nick threw a glance my way. "You’d lose everything. One of us dies, the book burns. We made sure of that. So stop bluffing and tell me the truth. Why do you need the grimoire?"
Robert’s lips thinned. "We’re doin’ this ‘cause we got no other choice. But maybe there’s a way out. If you’re givin’ it up willingly... maybe we don’t have to keep doin’ it this way."
I listened quietly, knowing Nick was just buying time.
I didn’t need to call out Robert’s bullshit—Nick saw through it just fine.
But the way he held the grimoire at the motel…
made every instinct in me recoil. That book radiated something wrong, something toxic, as if it were slick with venom. I hated touching it.
But Nick—Nick looked at it differently. Yes, he wanted to save me, I knew that. But there was something else in his eyes when he studied its pages. Fascination. Obsession. Not with me. With it.
And now I saw the same look in Robert’s eyes. Whatever power that book held, it had already begun to work on them both. Robert was drunk on its promise, and I was beginning to wonder how far Nick would go before he was, too.
"Say I give you the book," Nick said, subtly adjusting his stance. "What are you going to do with it?"
"Same as you," Robert said. "I’ll hold onto it, keep it from gettin’ into the wrong hands, make sure it don’t cause no trouble."
"Maybe your hands are the wrong ones."
Robert’s response was instant. "My hands are the only ones good enough."
"And what do I get if I give it to you?" Nick asked.
"Anythin’," Robert said. "Everythin’."
Nick didn’t reply, but his silence felt like thunderclouds gathering, dense and electric.
Robert went on, smiling softly, like a father gently scolding his children. "It’s ours. Only we can rightly handle it. It’s always belonged here."
His calmness was far more terrifying than his anger. Behind us, the forest released a cold sigh, like we stood with our backs to a deep well or an open grave. Something was watching—I felt it, though I didn’t dare turn around.
"You’re wastin’ your breath, though," Robert said. "You can’t help her now. The deal’s been made. We’re just here to see it through. But I could show you how to read the book."
He took a slow step back, as if generously giving us space. I could feel Nick coil tighter, his muscles ready to snap.
"We’re not bad people, you know. We work for the greater good," Robert continued, mistaking Nick’s silence for hesitation.
The scent of damp earth rose from the forest floor, sharp and tangy. Something stirred out in the woods. Robert noticed it too; his eyes flicked behind us for a split second before settling back with practiced calm. He knew something was there. And he was welcoming it.
"A boys’ club working for the greater good? Please. We’ve already had this conversation." Nick’s tone was dry, the sarcasm woven so finely into his words that it almost passed for sincerity.
"We don’t mess around here, Nick Boyd," Robert replied, removing his glasses. "We’re a group of folks who share the same values, workin’ to make this world—and this town—a better place for everyone."
"And what a coincidence that all these ‘like-minded individuals’ happen to be men."
"Women ain’t cut out for this kinda power. They’re too emotional, too flighty. Men are more level-headed, more rational. We can make the hard calls without gettin’ caught up in feelings and personal opinions."
I seethed. His self-righteousness was a stench I couldn’t breathe around. He spoke of the greater good, but everything about him reeked of greed and misogyny.
If I had once been consumed by fear, focused only on making it through the night, I now wanted more. I wanted revenge. I wanted him to suffer. To pay.
I wanted him gone.
"Yeah? How tough was the decision to put a price tag on human life?" I snapped. "Your own son’s life?"
Robert gave me a condescending smile as he cleaned his lenses, then turned back to Nick.
"Look at your lady friend here," he said. "She’s got no idea what she’s talkin’ about, but she’s quick to attack me. The sooner you see she’s a problem, not a plus, the sooner you’ll be ready for the power I’m offerin’."
A shotgun blast tore through the night. Tree bark splintered near me, exploding outward like someone had taken a bite out of the trunk.
I stood transfixed, watching Mitch move—precise, practiced, deadly. He didn’t hesitate. He flowed through their ranks like a blade, clean and terrifyingly efficient.
There were six masked men in total. Three carried guns holstered awkwardly. They were expecting fear, maybe a little resistance. Not this. Not Mitch.
June hovered near the treeline, holding the shotgun steady. One twitch in the wrong direction, and she’d fire. They knew it. Her presence bought Mitch valuable seconds, which he used like gold.
One of Robert’s men panicked and fired into the dark.
The crack split the air like lightning. Flashlights flickered, casting jerky shadows across the trees.
The second shot went wide, hitting one of their own, a man in a grotesque stag skull mask.
He yelped in pain, clutching his shoulder as he staggered back.
The mask fell away, and that was all Mitch needed. He moved fast, delivering a brutal blow to the man’s exposed face. There was an audible crunch as he crumpled like a ragdoll.
No one dared fire again, but the fighting kept on. Mitch stood among them, blood on his knuckles, but composed. He looked like he belonged in the chaos.
With one man down, Mitch still struggled with the other five. Even with June watching from the treeline, they had minutes, maybe less.
"Nell, now!" Nick roared, snapping me out of my trance.
The next moment, my raincoat was on the ground. He slashed my T-shirt down the back and yanked the bandage off, no time for finesse. The icy steel touched my tender skin, making me twitch. This was going to hurt.
I leaned against the stone, gripping it tightly, bracing myself against it.
Nick began carving into my skin. I tried not to scream, instead letting out a low growl; tears streamed from my eyes.
The burning was at least quick. I was terrified I’d faint, but somehow, I managed to stay on my feet, pushing through it.
"Almost done, almost done!" he kept repeating.
June screamed, and another deafening gunshot echoed through the forest.
"Fuck!" she bellowed, followed by, "Watch out!"
But Nick had finished. He scrambled me off the stone, forced the knife, slick with my own blood, and the grimoire, into my hands, and pushed me in the direction of the trees. "Run!"
One of the masked men tackled him from behind, sending him crashing to the ground. I stood there, lightheaded, knife in my hand, hesitating. I could help. But Nick roared again. "Go!"
With all the energy I had in me, I darted into the woods.
The darkness opened like a giant, hungry mouth and swallowed me whole.