Chapter 46
Forty-Six
Ava
My heart is beating so hard it threatens to burst out of my chest. The gun in Ric’s hands flicks between pointing at my head and Elsie’s. Every time he points it toward Elsie, my stomach drops. Ric’s hold on my hair is painful, but I don’t even feel it. Not when Elsie’s life is in danger.
My eyes flick to Wylan where he watches. He’d single-handedly taken out all of the goons Ric had hired, so I have full faith that he’ll get us out of this situation alive. I have to believe it. Dagen and Felix are right behind him, both of them armed now. All three are focused on Ric.
Beside us, Elsie keeps her own eyes squeezed shut, tears still trickle down her cheeks and soft whimpers slip from her lips as she tries to hold in her sobs. I’m grateful she can’t see every time the gun points at her.
“It’s okay, baby,” I tell her. “It’s gonna be okay.”
“Shut up!” Ric snarls and shakes me, forcing me to cry out at the pain in my scalp.
“Just let her go,” I beg him. “Just let her go and I’ll do whatever you want.”
Wylan’s eyes flash at my words, but he doesn’t argue. He just watches.
Ric clearly understands he’s outnumbered here. His plan didn’t work and the people he’d hired were no match for Wylan. He could shoot us, but then he’d die. Ric is many things, but he doesn’t have a death wish. His ego brought him this far. It’s the only thing he has going for him in this moment.
“Let them go,” Dagen commands, his eyes hard, “and then we’ll talk.”
Ric snorts. “Right.” But there’s hesitation in his voice that belies his confidence. He’s always been so easy to read, and right now, he’s weighing his options. He glances at me, and his lip curls up. He wants to hurt me, but he wants to save his skin more. Selfishness always wins.
He looks back at Dagen. “Give me your word I’ll walk out of here alive if I let them go.”
Dagen shrugs and glances at Wylan and Felix. “Sure,” he responds. “Whatever Ava wants.”
His hold loosens on my hair. “I walk out of here,” he repeats, letting me go, as he looks at Wylan.
Wylan raises his brow. “Sure.”
I immediately drop and wrap my arms around Elsie, but I don’t dare move any further. Ric still has his gun trained on me.
He takes a step back, and another. The others just watch him move slowly backward, putting distance between us, their eyes hard. I watch Wylan closely, and because I do, I notice the small twitch right before he raises his gun and fires.
I squeak at the same time Ric screams. His one hand was already wrapped and broken from the gala, but he’d still been able to use it to grip my hair by twisting it around his fist. When I turn to look at him, his other hand is now cradled against his chest, bloody. The gun is on the floor, out of reach.
“You said you’d let me leave!” Ric shrieks, tears starting to spill over his eyelashes.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen him cry. I should feel bad.
Any human would. But not an ounce of sympathy crosses my mind.
He hurt my little girl. He threatened her.
He threatened me and hurt me over and over again.
He can go to hell as far as I’m concerned.
I immediately untie Elsie and rip the gag from her mouth, dragging her into my arms, holding her tight as she cries.
“I’m a criminal,” Wylan shrugs. “You should never trust my word.” He glances at me. “Do you want to see this?”
I hesitate. No, I don’t want to see it, but I need to. I have to see this through at this point. For my sanity. For Elsie’s safety. “Elsie can’t.” I don’t want to leave her, but she can’t be here for this part. She doesn’t need that on her conscious.
Dagen nods and flips open his phone. Within a few seconds, John comes striding in, a literal fucking puppy under his arm. “Hey, Elsie girl,” he says, immediately kneeling down in front of us. “I brought a new friend. I thought you could help me name him.”
Despite the situation, Elsie’s eyes light up. “He’s so cute,” she whispers.
“And, if you come with me, not only do you get all the puppy kisses, but I have ice cream waiting for you,” he adds with a gentle smile. If there’s anyone I trust Elsie with, it’s this big brute of a man that would kill for her. John will make sure nothing else happens to her from here on out.
Elsie spins in my hold and throws her little arms around my neck. She hugs me so tightly, it’s almost strangling. “It’s okay, Mom,” she rasps. “I’ll be okay.”
I can’t stop the tears as I hug her back tightly, wishing she didn’t have to be so grown in this moment.
She understands. She knows what’s about to happen as much as we’ll never talk about it again.
We’ll discuss the healing process, but we just won’t ever talk about where her father went or why he won’t be a problem anymore.
This is something we’ll both take to our graves.
She lets go and steps back, immediately taking the puppy from John’s arms. “You would look lovely in a tiara,” she tells the puppy with a shaky voice, and follows John out.
I take note of how she holds the puppy close, taking comfort in his soft fur, and I remind myself to thank John later for the distraction.
He was prepared with everything to help Elsie survive this.
Where he found a puppy so fast, I’ll never know.
Ric turns to run, thinking he may have a better chance at running than remaining here to see what happens.
Unfortunately for him, Wylan doesn’t have any patience for chasing him down.
He fires off another round, this time catching Ric right in the foot.
He crumples and goes down hard enough to make me wince.
His screams echo in the warehouse, shrill and loud as he writhes on the floor.
Wylan tucks his gun away and reaches for a hammer Felix hands him. I have no idea where he got it from or when, but Wylan tosses it between his hands as he stalks forward.
“Otto_Bot,” Wylan says, his eyes dark as he closes in on Ric’s writhing form. He’s sobbing now, hysterically begging. “List.”
Felix nods. “With pleasure.” He doesn’t open a computer. He doesn’t pull out any paper. Instead, he meets my eyes and says, “Right tibia.”
Wylan stops in front of Ric and grins. “Right tibia,” he repeats, and then slams the hammer down onto Ric’s right leg. Ric screams, the sounds so shrill, it hurts my ears.
“Left femur,” Felix says.
Wylan repeats his words again and slams the hammer into his left thigh. It takes three hits this time. The resounding snap makes my own bones hurt and I flinch as I’m reminded of the pain of such a break. It’s only on the third item on their list that I realize what they’re doing.
These are all bones I’ve broken before, that Ric broke while we were together. The list isn’t just a list. It’s my list. And they’re returning the favor.
“Both right and left clavicle,” Felix says.
Snap. Snap. Choked off screams of pain.
“Three metatarsal bones on the right hand,” Felix declares, his voice cold.
Wylan grins. “Kind of hard to do that when the fingers are hardly attached.”
Felix grins. “Then left radial.”
I wince with every hit despite knowing I’ve suffered each of these at this man’s hands. I’d spent a lot of the time lying to the hospital staff about what had happened. Clearly, Felix and Wylan had memorized the extensive list.
Wylan stands back to inspect his handy work, dropping the hammer to the concrete with a thud.
He tilts his head, watching as Ric cries on the ground, sobbing, begging for the mercy he never gave me.
This man threatened to kill Elsie. He probably would have killed the both of us if we hadn’t gotten out.
He doesn’t deserve mercy. He doesn’t deserve anything.
Wylan comes over to me and slips his gun into my hands. “Last one is all you, crumpet,” he says gently, as if he’s not asking me to kill a man.
I hesitate to take the gun, but something inside me knows I need to do this.
Ric will remain in the past after this moment, where he belongs.
Elsie will be able to grow up without fear.
I’ll be able to live without worrying about every phone call, every car driving by, every stranger. I need to do this. I have to.
I want to.
I carefully wrap my fingers around the grip and raise the barrel, aiming at Ric.
My hand doesn’t shake like I expect, but I don’t pull the trigger, not yet.
Two months ago, I wouldn’t have been able to do it, thinking myself so much better than him.
And I am, I realize. I’m still better than this fucker despite now holding a gun aimed at his head.
I don’t shake. I’m not afraid. Pure hatred fills me as my husband moves around on the floor, begging for me to spare him, promising to leave us alone.
But that’s a lie. I know it’s a lie. He knows it’s a lie.
If he walks away from this, he’ll come back again, and again, and again, until he gets what he wants.
It’s time I get what I want. Freedom. Peace. Safety.
And I’m going to make sure I walk out of this warehouse with those for the first time in years.
Wylan wraps himself around me, his hands coming up to steady my aim when I struggle. I’ve never shot a gun before, don’t really know how to aim, and I’m grateful that he’s here to help me. Dagen and Felix appear at our side, both of them touching me, all offering reassurance.
“That’a girl,” Wylan breathes in my ear. He walks me through the process, making sure the safety is flipped off, holding me to give me strength, his hand wrapping around my own to steady my hands. “Make him fucking pay for every time he put a hand on you.”
Make him pay. He’s right. He deserves this. And I’m going to give it to him.
Wylan’s hands engulf my own as he aims the barrel at Ric’s head. “Pretty girls don’t miss,” he purrs in my ear, his body warm against mine. “They hit dead center. Every. Single. Time.”
My lips tip up. “Pretty girls don’t miss,” I repeat.
“That’s right,” Wylan murmurs. “So, pull the trigger, pretty girl.”
I take a deep breath, release it. . .
. . . and squeeze the trigger.