33. Kennedy #2
I turned to look back at Malachi. “I haven’t been able to hug my dad since I was a child,” I said. “So would it be okay if we did that? Just for a minute?”
His face darkened, but he gave me a curt nod. “Do whatever you need to do,” he said stiffly. “Mark, keep those hands where I can see them.”
I turned back to my father and wrapped my arms around him, pressing my face against the rough wool of his jacket. Then I shifted slightly, my mouth brushing the side of his ear.
“Do you have any knives on you?” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the brook’s rush. “Malachi will never see it coming from me. It’s only you he’s worried about.”
There was a beat of silence. Then I felt my father’s chest shake with a low, pleased chuckle. “I knew you had it in you, darling,” he murmured back, pride thick in his voice. “Go into my right pocket. Very carefully. Don’t let him see.”
Keeping my movements slow and deliberate, I slid my hand between us, feeling for the outline of the weapon. My fingers closed around the cool handle, and I eased it free, the motion shielded by our bodies.
The blade was small, but solid enough to do what I needed. I slipped it into the inside of my jacket sleeve, tucking it against my forearm where the fabric would hide the shape.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Malachi called out.
I dropped my arms and turned around to face him, keeping my expression neutral.
Beside me, my father cleared his throat. “All right, Mr. Sieger,” he said. “I’m here with my hands up, just like you requested. Now… tell me what I have to do for you to let me and my daughter go.”
Malachi smiled thinly. “Actually, I already let Kennedy go. She’s free to walk away from this whenever she wants, and she knows that.
” His gaze shifted to me, and I could’ve sworn I spotted a flash of sadness in it.
“So she can leave before what happens next, or she can stay and watch. That decision is entirely up to her.”
I glanced at my father out of the corner of my eye. His lips were twitching slightly, like he was trying to stop himself from smiling. Clearly, he was sure he’d already won.
“So tell me, then. What exactly happens next?” he asked, loudly and clearly. Under his breath, he quickly whispered to me, barely moving his lips. “Start moving, darling. Act like you’re leaving, and come around behind him. Then stick the knife in his neck.”
Malachi looked over at me. “What do you want to do, Kennedy? Stay or leave?”
“Leave,” I said. “But first… one more hug. Just to say goodbye.”
I didn’t wait for his permission. Just moved closer to my father and leaned in, like I was really going for another hug.
Then I drove the knife into the side of his neck.
It went in easier than I expected, hot and soft beneath the pressure, and for a split second, he didn’t move.
Didn’t even seem to register what had happened until I yanked the blade out again.
Then he finally staggered forward, a ragged gasp ripping from his throat as his hands flew up to claw at the wound.
When I turned, just for a breath, I saw Malachi. He was still standing in his original spot, eyes wide and locked on me like he couldn’t believe what he’d just seen. It wasn’t quite shock filling his gaze, though. It was something closer to awe.
My father dropped to his knees beside the brook, eyes bulging with shock and fury. “You ungrateful little brat,” he choked out. “I came back here for you. I came to save you. And you do this ?”
I stood over him, breathing hard. “How many people have you killed, Dad?” I asked as an eerie sense of calm descended over me.
“I… I don’t know,” he muttered, wincing as he pressed his hand harder on the wound.
I shook my head in disbelief. “Did you ever do it to protect me? Or anyone else? Or was it all just for fun?”
He gagged again, more blood spilling from his lips. “I-I really thought you would understand,” he rasped. “You were always my shadow. You… you adored me.”
“I was a child, you sick freak,” I snapped. “I just wanted to spend time with my dad back then. That’s all!”
“No. I saw it in you,” he said, eyes narrowing. “The same thing that’s always been in me.”
“I think that’s just what they call projection, Dad.
You desperately wanted a protégé, so you twisted everything I did to fit the story you wanted to believe.
But I was never like you. Not like that ,” I said.
I clenched my jaw and drew in a deep breath before going on, voice thick with emotion.
“I won’t deny that I wanted to be like you back then.
I was desperate for your approval, and I loved and admired you.
But only for the parts it turned out you were faking all along.
None of it was real. You were always a monster. ”
His chest was heaving now, struggling for breath. “So you’re really going to let me bleed out here?” he asked. “Your own father? While you stand there claiming you’re not a monster?”
A shadow appeared in the corner of my vision then, and I snapped my gaze to the side to see Malachi slowly approaching. “Want me to finish it?” he asked in a low voice. “The other day, you said you wanted it to be quick.”
I nodded and held out the knife with a trembling hand. He took it and crouched beside my father. Then he drove the knife deep into the other side of his neck.
This time, the process wasn’t drawn out. Just a sharp inhale that ended in a gurgle as the light in my father’s eyes flickered and died. Then he finally fell all the way to the ground, blood pooling around his top half.
Malachi stood and stepped back, tossing the blade aside. Then he turned to face me, blazing eyes searching mine.
I blinked, once. Twice. Then I rushed toward him.
“Please don't leave,” I said, frantically clutching at his jacket and fisting the blood-speckled fabric between my fingers. “There's a way we can play this so that neither of us gets in trouble. So you don’t need to disappear. We can just tell every—”
He cut me off, gently pressing a finger to my lips. “Don’t worry, Kennedy,” he said softly. “I'm not going anywhere.”
“You're… you’re not?” I said, voice partially muffled by his touch.
“The thought of leaving you was killing me,” he said, voice low and raw.
“I never wanted to, but in the end… I thought it was the right thing for you. That it was what you needed to be happy. But then I saw you stick your dad with that knife, and I realized I was wrong. And then I knew exactly what I had to do next.”
“And that is?” I asked breathlessly.
“Stay here. Be with you. As long as I’m alive,” he said, his voice low and steady. “So that’s what I’m going to do. And I’m going to fix all of this. No one will ever know what you did here tonight.”
My eyes widened. “You have a plan?”
“Yeah, I do.” His mouth quirked upward in a faint, wicked smile. “And so do you, by the sound of it.”
I nodded slowly. “I have an idea, at least.”
“You can tell me in a minute. But first…”
His hand slid from my lips to the side of my face, thumb brushing gently across my cheekbone. I hadn’t even realized I was crying until he wiped away a tear.
“I need to do this,” he murmured.
Then he kissed me.
His fingers threaded into my hair, pulling me closer as his mouth claimed mine, fierce and consuming. My knees nearly gave out, and I clung to him, my hands fisting in the back of his jacket as I kissed him like I needed it to breathe.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine. “Whatever happens next… we’re in this together now. You and me.”
I nodded, heart thudding in my chest. “Together.”
He took my hand and squeezed it. “That old shrink of mine was wrong,” he said, voice turning low and rough. “He told me I don’t feel love. That I’m incapable of it. But I think he was full of shit.”
I blinked up at him, caught off guard by his words.
“Because this … what I feel for you,” he went on. “I know it doesn’t look like what other people call love. But it’s still fucking love at the end of the day. I know that now.”
I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.
“And you, baby,” Malachi continued, brushing his fingers down the side of my neck. “You don’t need flowers and fairytales. You need a twisted, fucked-up kind of love. The kind that I can give you.”
“I think you’re the only one who can,” I murmured, finally finding my tongue.
He flashed me a wolfish grin. Then he crushed his lips back down to mine and kissed me until the world blurred and there was nothing left but blood, breath, and the delicious burn of us .