Chapter 33 #4
“When you scheme and plot and kill, so do others. You opened the door to hell, and we’re here to personally escort you through it.
” I push the end of the baseball bat against Chet’s forehead and then I draw it back, like I’m about to swing on a curve ball.
“Lemon was…she was hotheaded. A little bit stupid at times. And yeah, men were her drug of choice. But she was so easy to please. You didn’t have to kill her.
She would’ve stood by you, if you’d ever bothered to tell her you were her sperm donor. ”
“Sperm donor?” Chet laughs, sagging on his knees and letting his head fall back.
Blood trails down the side of his face, and a scheme skitters through his blue eyes.
Shit. This man is more dangerous than I thought he was.
It’s good that we’re taking care of this tonight.
He’s as hotheaded as Lem. “A cheap fuck behind a dumpster, more like. That little bitch spread her legs for her own—”
Crack goes the bat against Chet’s arm, hopefully breaking a bone in the process.
He screams, but the sound is cut short by another rock hitting him in the head.
One of the chains in Nisha’s hands flies forward and wraps his neck, dragging him prone to the ground while my girls descend like animals from the shadows.
“Did you know that bonobo females band together to kill aggressive males?” I laugh as the girls tear at Chet’s clothes while he flails around, kicking and scratching at them.
They rip his clothing to shreds, leaving him naked and vulnerable.
“That’s why they’re such peaceful creatures, because they don’t take shit.
You feel me, Chet Senior? In this neighborhood, we hang rapists by their intestines. ”
Butt naked, arms wrapped around himself, Chet looks fearfully in the direction we came from.
It’s like he expects to be raped by the boys or something.
It’d be a fitting punishment, exactly what he deserves.
Lucky for him, I don’t keep sex pests in my circle.
Ain’t got no space in my orbit for subhuman trash.
The crew has backed up again, giving Chet the space to feel real, true fear. I’m sure that in the past, he’s escaped many a sticky situation.
Not this one.
I give a quick nod of my chin, unleashing chaos on the man who was instrumental in ending Lem’s life.
That’s all it takes, a nod.
The Crimson Crew earned its name through actions, not words. Red might be my least favorite color, but my ladies love it.
Mercy to the guilty is cruelty to the innocent. What about cruelty to the guilty?
“Mercy to the innocent!” I shout, and they descend. Machetes and chains and big ol’ sticks snatched right up from the forest floor.
“Mercy to the innocent!” the Crimson Crew shouts back, beating the crap out of Chet because it’s what they need.
The world isn’t fair. The worse a person is, the more awful they’re willing to behave, the more they lie and cheat and steal, the further they seem to get in life.
Somebody has to take God’s hand and say, I got you, Providence.
That’s us tonight, delivering justice on a planet where it’s rarely ever served. Hot. Cold. Ever.
“What’s a bonobo again?” Bastian whispers, feverish eyes locked on Chet as he writhes under the onslaught of so many angry Prescott ladies.
“A great ape,” I reply absently, putting my heel on Chet’s penis and grinding it in with all of my body weight.
This man not only chose Lemon because of who she was, he allowed his son to sleep with her, killed her for being pregnant, and then had the audacity to insult my man by giving him a severed finger at his own engagement party?
“Apes, Chet Senior. That’s all humans are anyway. Beasts.”
Withdrawing my foot, I raise the bat again.
When I bring it down, the rusted nails slam directly into the real estate developer’s shriveled balls.
The Crimson Crew is given a reasonable amount of time to exact their pounds of flesh—literally, in some cases. A few of the girls switch out with others back at the house, ensuring everyone has a turn to show this man what it means when you hurt one of us.
It means hurting all of us.
“Please,” Chet gargles as he’s dragged by one leg into the gravel clearing between the front office and the building where the actual ovens are located.
He’s face-down, his mutilated dick and balls leaving a smear of blood behind him.
My girls drop him where he is and step back.
Some leave, because while everyone supports this, not everyone wants to see it.
I understand that.
The boys rejoin me, their steps loud and purposeful on the gravel. I don’t even ask if they got the front drive all cleaned up. Of course they did. I’ve been busy in the forest with the girls for, gosh, the better part of three hours.
Chet rolls over, spotting all five of us plus Nisha and Bastian.
He scrambles back on his bare ass, summoning up one final effort to scream.
His bruised, swollen eyes manage to find Ash in the group and then dart wildly over to Alexei.
Somehow, Bohnes, Widow, and I don’t factor in.
Pretty sure the man is going mad right before our eyes.
“I didn’t want Pavel dead.” Chet is panting now, bloodied fingers (the six he has left, three on each hand) dig frantically at the gravel. “I swear to God. I didn’t need him dead.” Pant, pant, pant. “I have my own connections. If you kill me, you’ll have powerful people looking for you.”
“Oh yeah? Those powerful people will cut a little puppet like you off at the strings if there’s even a whiff of discontent surrounding your disappearance.
We’ll make sure of that.” I move a little closer and lean down, hands on my hips, smiling.
“You should’ve left my best friend alone.
This is what I do to people who murder my besties.
Your daughter, Lucy Bree Hall?” Chet stops breathing here, I swear.
“She’s the reason you’re dying tonight. Best you understand that. ”
Chet is yelling frantically as Ash and Widow manhandle him to his feet. Problem is, there’s nobody around to hear him scream.
“We live in town, miles away…” Bohnes whispers in an old movie accent, materializing by my side. “So there’s no one around if you need help.”
How precious. He’s quoting a movie: The Haunting, 1963. I quote him right back.
“We couldn’t hear you. No one could. In the night. In the dark.” I almost laugh. I’m too hyped up though, adrenaline-jabbed.
Widow uses a pair of bolt cutters to take off the chains on the door of the crematorium. Alexei opens it and keeps it propped using his gloved hands, leaving plenty of space for Ash to drag Chet inside.
“He didn’t remember who Lucy was until we reminded him.
” Bastian rubs at his face with both hands before dropping them to his sides.
I hope he’s not too traumatized about the kiss.
If he is, what I’m going to do should help.
Only the guys know that this is my plan.
It’ll be painful. It’ll be quick. It’ll be clean.
“She died because of him and his scumbag son, and Chet doesn’t even know who she was. ”
“We know who she was, and that’s what matters,” I promise Basti, putting a hand to his cheek, forcing my eyes to soften for him.
He presses his hand over mine. “If there is a hell, Chet’ll get to know her real well on the other side I’m sure.
Lucy is stubborn enough to extract her own vengeance in the afterlife. ”
“Amen,” Nisha mutters, closing her eyes on the pain.
I think about Alexis’ body, burned to a crisp in the fire that Ash set to my house on Chet’s orders.
There’s a nondescript white box sitting on a metal cart in front of me. Ash and Widow work to put Chet inside of it while Bohnes locks the doors behind us. It’s best if we’re the only ones present for this part.
Alexei puts his gloved hand on the side of the makeshift coffin as Chet lies on his back, hyperventilating and staring up with an expression of perfect terror. I imagine many of his victims felt this way as he was violating them. Sexual predators are the worst.
I step up beside my husband, examining the cretin in the coffin.
“When I push this button, I will revel in your screams,” I promise Chet, forcing a smile through the frost that’s taken over my veins.
“And then I’ll forget all about you. Love is true immortality, Chet.
When you are loved, people remember you.
That is something you won’t be privileged enough to have. ”
“I’ll tell you everything,” Chet blurts suddenly, sitting up and pressing Ash’s blade into his own neck, like he might be trying to end things on his own terms. Ash flicks the sword away and Widow uses a strong grip on Chet’s shoulders to push him back down.
“The senators and congressmen that we know. How we won their favor. Everything.”
“Shut the fuck up. Dead rapists don’t rape.” Nisha spits on him just before I give the final nod, and the four boys, all together, shove the coffin lid into place.
“Let me do it,” Basti is whispering, staring at the switch on the far side of a metal control panel. “I want his blood on my hands.”
I gesture magnanimously at the switch and Basti flicks it, sending the coffin inside the cold furnace.
The next button he presses is the one to start the flames.
The scream Chet makes is the one I heard inside my heart when Lemon breathed her last breath on my lap.
I feel no pity for him. Bastian, Nisha, and I grab hands, standing in a half-circle in front of the oven.
Eventually, the screams stop and the room falls silent.
Nighty-night, Chet.