Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
RHYS
F ucking Esky is barking at something; we ignore it though, because we’re trying to plan the muster when we hear a shout.
Immediately we’re all up on our feet. Looking around for the source. Then I hear a yelp, as if Esky has been hurt.
“Davis, that way.” I point to the left. “Beau, that way.” I point to the right. “Hayden, that way.” I point behind me. “Nathan, get Brent, and Jarrod, find fucking Trent. He left not long after Morgan.”
A bad feeling settles over me when that realisation sets in.
I take off straight ahead.
Esky is back to barking so I run in the direction I think I can hear it. Fuck, it’s dark. The only light I have is the moon. I round the corner and see two silhouettes. And with the impeccable timing of Brent, he turns on his floodlight illuminating the grounds.
To show Trent has Morgan pinned up against the wall. His cock is out, but she’s doing her best to fight.
I don’t think.
I tackle Trent to the ground. Brent runs to Morgan. I’m sitting on Trent’s chest swinging at his face, repeatedly. Davis and Beau appear and pull me off of him.
“Go to Morgan. Brent can’t reach her.” Davis tells me.
I look behind me and see Morgan is still swinging her arms around, tears streaming down her face.
“Don’t let that motherfucker go.” I point down to Trent, “Lock him in one of the sheds.”
They pick him up under the arms and drag him away while I move over to Morgan.
“Morgan, it’s me. See me. Please. It’s Rhys.” I repeat it, over and over, almost pleading with her until it looks like she’s coming back.
When her eyes seem more focused, I repeat it one more time “It’s me, see me. It’s Rhys, the asshole you love to hate.”
“I told you it’s more a dislike.” She croaks.
I can’t help the small chuckle that leaves me, half as a sigh she’s back, and half because even after that she can make a joke. A smile tugs at my lips. “Come on, let's get you cleaned up.”
And like that night almost two weeks ago I scoop her up, bridal style. Morgan doesn’t protest, just rests her head on my chest. I start to walk us to the house before remembering, “Esky, come.” I call over my shoulder but she’s already at my heels. I should have known.
Morgan doesn’t protest when I wash her face with a warm cloth. I look at her hands and wipe them. Seems she scratched him a few times. That’s my girl.
She even lets me lay her in her bed. I don’t move.
I watch over her, listening to her breathe.
Once her breathing evens out, signalling she’s asleep, I have one thought.
But before I make any decisions, I need legal advice.
So, I call Shane. I need to know the ins and outs of what I’m potentially going to do.
I don’t bother with pleasantries, going straight to the question,
“If someone were to go missing…”
He cuts me off by asking who. I rub my forehead; I feel a headache starting. I try to get him back on track, but he reframes the question. He adds emphasis to going “Who is going missing then?”
“Scum. Now let me finish, if they were last seen here at the station, what sort of evidence would there need to not be for anyone here to be a suspect.”
“What is happening?”
“Nothing,” I groan, for someone who talks mostly in grunts he sure as hell is asking a lot of probing questions. “Answer the question.”
“This is all hypothetical?”
“Of course.” No. I’m going to kill the fucker for hurting her. Feed him to the sharks. God knows there’s enough up here.
“Well, the big thing is obviously the body. No body, no evidence.” So, a shark feeding it is.
“And if they were seen here?”
“You’ll all be questioned at the very least, but again, no body or personal effects means no evidence.”
“Right, cool thanks mate.” So, a bonfire and a shark feeding. Check and check.
“Now tell me what happened.”
“Nothing you need to worry about.” I go to hang up, but he yells out my name.
“Tell me what the fuck is happening, or I’ll be on the next flight.”
I take a deep breath before telling him, “Someone tried to hurt Morgan.”
“I’m coming back.” I can hear rustling on his end of the phone call.
Before he can get too carried away, “I’ve got it sorted.”
“Rhys.” He sounds pained.
“She is okay. She’s in bed with the fucking pup, both sleeping soundly.”
“Pup?”
“Yep, your fucking sister rescued a dingo pup and named it Esky.”
“Esky is a dumb name.”
“That’s what I said!” I don’t tell him her retort because he’ll only laugh at me. “Look honestly, she’s doing good. I’m going to teach her to fight and self-defence.”
“If you need anything…”
“Yeah, find the fucking ex.” And with that I hang up.
I can’t help but check on her before I take myself to bed. I’m not long asleep before I’m woken by whimpering and scratching at my door. Then I hear it.
“Fuck.” I get up and walk to Morgan’s room. She is screaming while thrashing and pulling at the sheet and quilt.
I’m an idiot for not staying with her. This has quickly become a nightly routine. Not that she knows that.
As soon as I lay next to her and pull her into an embrace. The moment her head is on my shoulder, her screams taper off. She sighs and nestles deeper into me.
God, I am not the cuddling type, I’m barely a spend the night with a girl type.
I fall asleep at some point, not sure when or how much sleep I got, but I’m awoken by the sound of my alarm in the distance.
I slowly remove myself from Morgan and slink out of her room.
Esky, who is curled up next to Morgan, raises her head, sees it’s me and then tucks her face back under her paws.
She knows the routine by now and thank god she can’t talk because I’m confident she would have ratted me out by now.
Looking down at the side table I decide to take her phone and the alarm clock.
She needs to rest after the bullshit of last night.
I go through the motions of my morning, get dressed, brush teeth, and coffee. Stepping outside, coffee in hand, I take in the sun starting to break the horizon. I suck in a deep breath enjoying the scent of the fresh morning air.
There’s not a cloud in sight. The sun’s glow matches the one growing in my chest, and a sadistic smile breaks over my face. When I spot Beau and Davis approaching, I greet them. “Perfect day for a murder.”
“Threw him in one of the back sheds.” Davis informs me.
I nod and continue walking in that direction. The closer we get, the more clearly, we can hear the noise the asshole is making. Unlocking the door, we step in and almost choke on the smell, “Fuck it stinks in here.”
“What the fuck man!”
I rest my rifle on the panel of the shed.
“You were choking her. Tried to rape her.” A thought had crossed my mind this morning, so I called Shane and got him to run his name, three sexual assault reports against Trent showed up immediately.
They were all thrown out, for various reasons.
That’s when I knew I needed to make sure he never did it again.
“It’s not what it looked like.” He makes himself seem small and weak .
I try to breathe through my rising anger. “No? So, your cock was just out for what? Shits and gigs?”
“She kneed me in the balls!” he shouts at me.
“To protect herself.”
“I was just trying to talk to her.” He almost sounds convincing.
“Was that the same case with Emily Thatcher?”
I watch his eyes grow wide as he noticeably swallows.
“What about Bridgette Smith? Or maybe Lisa Griffen?”
Trent quickly schools his features, but I’ve seen the truth, “All hear say.”
“See, when there’s three girls who tried to make reports, I don’t believe you.
” I get into this face. “Not to mention I caught you in the middle of attempting the fourth.” I practically spit at him.
“They didn’t get far though, did they? Daddy must have deep pockets. ” I step back, continuing to watch him.
“No, but my uncle does.” I hate the way he is looking cocky, like he’s proud of himself. My anger accidently slips for a moment, because I punch the fucker square in the face, busting his nose. He cries out in pain, soothing just a fraction of said anger.
I step back once again, proud of my handy work when I see the blood from his nose slowly trickle down his face, “They must be real proud, a rapist for a nephew and son.”
Instead of backing down the fucker squares his shoulders and asks, “What are you going to do about it?”
I shrug, and pick up the rifle, jabbing the butt of the gun into his broken nose. He closes his eyes and groans while his head rolls around in a dazed fashion. Davis duct tapes his mouth, and Beau ties his hands.
Together we chuck him in the back of a buggy. I drive that and Davis jumps in with me, while Beau drives the cruiser with the boat attached. We head toward one of the station's personal fishing spots. Can’t risk anyone seeing us.
About twenty minutes later, we arrive at the coastline. Did I hit every bump and ditch? Yes. Did it throw scumbag around? Yes. Am I happy about that? Fuck yes.
Beau backs the boat into the ocean, while Davis grabs the scumbag.
He can walk, but takes his sweet fucking time. Almost like he knows what’s coming. I cut the rope that’s binding his hands, and jut my chin toward the boat. “Get on the boat.”
“Why?” Fuck he’s dumb.
“We’re going fishing.” Is all I say. Because we are, we’re just not coming back with fish. Or him.
Once we’re all on Beau takes the helm of the boat but hesitates, “Guys, are we really doing this?”
“Going fishing? Of course we are.” Morgan’s scream still revibrates in my skull.
The way she was crying “no” over and over, while her vacant eyes searched for someone.
A knight in shining armour on a white horse.
A man she deserves, a man I am not. I might not be that guy, but I sure as fuck will slay this one monster for her.
Beau is still so unsure. “Rhys.” He almost sounds pained.
“Three other girls, Beau, three. And that’s the ones that have come forward.”
He chews on the inside of his cheek. Uncertainty warring within.
“What if he hurt Cammy? We are doing this for Emily, Bridgette, Lisa and now Morgan. We are doing this for any women that he might hurt.”
“It’s a public service, really.” Davis adds.
I’m positive the scumbag knows his fate. How could he not? I saw what he did. I found out his past. And well, one doesn’t go from being locked up in a shed to being taken out fishing.
Beau nods once, turns around and drives us out deeper, the boat crashing against the small waves. We only go a kilometre and a half off the coastline. It’s not overly deep and not too far out. But it’s not the depth or the distance from land, it’s what patrols the ocean floor.
Beau kills the motor, “I’m still not sure about this.”
I ignore him. We’re doing this. I’m doing this. Comforting Morgan last night gave me enough time to think about the best way. So many ideas were floating through my mind, and all ended with him trying to swim back to shore. Just not sure how much blood he should lose before he makes that swim.
“Rhys, I’m serious, if he has gotten away with rape he must have a good fucking lawyer.”
“Listen to your friend,” Trent’s arrogant voice cuts into our conversation. “I actually have the best defence attorney in Australia, so try your luck boys.”
Fuck. I can’t protect her if I end up in jail.
I need to think. Idiotically I turn my back to Trent.
Which is my second mistake for the day because the prick charges me, knocking me off balance.
He starts laying in to me. Davis and Beau are quick to pull him off me.
I’m still slightly dazed from my head hitting the steering wheel.
Something glints in the sun, as Davis lets out a grunt, his knees give way as his hands are pressed against his right side. Blood starts to ooze out from between his fingers.
It only takes a few seconds for the shock to subside then I’m back on my feet, mindlessly punching him.
“Fucking prick. Only attack women or when people have their backs turned? You’re fucking weak.
” I hit him once, and the blade we didn’t realise he had on him, falls to the ground.
Then a second hit, and a third. With every landed punch, the once scabbed split lip reopens.
Fucking good. The prick fucking deserves it after the damage he has caused.
I’m not thinking straight when I pick up the blade and stab him, mirroring where he got Davis. He stumbles backwards, losing his footing, falling overboard. I’m looking at my bloodied hand holding the blade when he breaches the surface. “You can’t leave me here! Do you know who my family is?!”
“I don’t actually give a fuck.” I wipe the blade on my jeans. This couldn’t have turned out better if I planned it. “And thanks to your stupidity, we can claim self-defence. You simply fell overboard. Sharks got ya.”
“Sharks?” He sounds scared. And I almost care.
“Just tell them no.” Taking them as my parting words, Beau turns the motor on and we’re putting distance between us and Trent. I don’t miss the fins that start to circle him. As I turn my back on him one last time, I hear his final scream.
I move to Davis, who is starting to look a little pale, and push my hands over his, adding more pressure. He grunts, not saying a word, even as his eyes glisten with tears he refuses to let fall.
When we make it back to the shore, we drop anchor and together, Beau and I help Davis into the back of the buggy. Leaving everything behind we rush back to the homestead.
Once we get back, I don’t have the car stopped before Beau is out and running to the caravan park to find Ron.
I blast the horn a few times trying to get someone, anyone’s attention. Brent steps out of the homestead and as soon as he sees me struggling with an almost unconscious Davis, he rushes to us. “What the fuck?”
I open my mouth to respond but nothing comes out.
“Fuck, get him inside.” Ron calls out.
Beau is on Davis’s other side, throwing his arm over his shoulders.
Davis looks up at Beau, smiles and then lets his head drop down again.
Fuck. Together, Beau and I try to walk Davis into the house.
Brent watches us, and I can tell he isn’t impressed.
He doesn’t say anything though, just pushes me away and takes over.
I watch as they usher Davis inside. I stumble backward, letting the last thirty minutes wash over me. I tilt my head back and shout into the void. What has my life become? I’ve just killed someone, for a woman. Who isn’t even mine. But I’d do it again. Without hesitation. Every damn time.