Chapter Forty-Four
Rygaard
Ever since Rafe called about Keifer crawling out of whatever filthy hole he was hiding in, I started setting the trap. Presley was the bait.
The thought of that bastard watching her made me want to carve out his eyes with a fucking spoon.
He felt me watching him, alright. I could tell, because he ran like the coward he’s always been.
But he didn’t know we got to Kemper first.Paid him a little visit.Rafe and I made sure he'd never forget whose side he was on.
"Man, that guy’s sick," Kemper sobbed after a few cracked ribs and a broken nose . "I just wanted to get my rocks off... but he made us do things I can’t even say out loud..."
I didn’t buy a goddamn word.
He’s just another piece of filth circling the drain. And when Keifer’s dead, Kemper’s next.
I’ve never killed anyone before, but the moment I heard all the vile, disgusting things they did to my girl, claiming she asked for it , they were as good as dead.
They say killing someone changes you.
So does losing a child.
I wasn’t there for my Little Hellion before, but I am now. And they’ll pay for it with their lives. Grabbing my phone, I fire off a quick I love you text. I can’t help the grin when she sends back heart emojis, telling me she’s about to soak for a while.
"So, how does that sound?"
I blink, pulling myself out of my thoughts. I didn’t even hear what the man across from me asked. "I’m sorry, what was that?"
Felix Casey, an older gentleman who’d requested this meeting to discuss a potential business deal, just smiles kindly.
"You’ve got the look, son," he says.
I frown. "What look?"
He chuckles. "The look of love. Someone’s got your mind tied up in knots."
A nervous laugh slips out as I rake a hand through my hair. "Is it that obvious?"
"It’s obvious," he says warmly. "But no worries. You come highly recommended. Having your head in the clouds during a minor meeting? Child’s play. As long as you give one-hundred and ten percent to this deal when the time comes, that’s all I ask."
"You have my word. There’s something I need to take care of first... involving my girl. Once that’s handled, I’ll be all in."
He gives a knowing nod, the kind that says he’s seen a lot more than I realize. "That’s what I like to hear. Go take care of it. I’ll be here getting familiar with the good people of Cedar Creek."
As he leaves, I buzz Julie in.
"Yes, boss?"
"First, don’t call me boss," I laugh. "Second, find out everything you can about Mr. Casey."
"Sure thing. Something wrong?"
"No. I just think he could be more than a business client."
"Say no more. I’ll have something for you within the hour."
I don’t know how she’ll dig it up, and I’m not gonna ask. Heading for my office, I call Rafe. He picks up on the second ring.
"What up?"
"I’m tired of waiting. I’m going to kill him," I growl. "If I hadn’t warned Roman ahead of time, Keifer might’ve succeeded. I’m fucking losing it, Rafe."
"Don’t. Between the three of us, she’s never really alone. It just looks like she is."
"I know, man. I just want to end this. The cops aren’t doing shit, so I’m handling it."
"I agree. Filing a police report? What a joke. He’s been hiding since it all went down, but now he pops up? Why? I’ll find out when we catch that motherfucker. You’re not a little sorry we’re using Presley to bait him?"
Silence. Then, "Don’t. You know I am. But it has to be done. Otherwise, he wins." More silence.
"I’m sorry, bro. I’m with you. A hundred percent." Rafe says, using our codename again.
"You better be. This isn’t just about me. It’s about Presley, about everything that piece of shit ruined. He’s fucking dead, and I don’t care if I lose myself making it happen."
Julie peeks into the office, confusion on her face. I wave her off, mouthing ‘later .’
"Ry, I get it," Rafe says quietly. "Just tell me when and where."
"You better mean it. Because you and Presley? You’ve got some shit to fix, too." Without waiting for a reply, I hang up, wishing I had a landline just so I could slam it down.
Julie raises an eyebrow. "Everything okay, sir?"
"Yeah." She clearly doesn’t believe me. "Mr. Casey and I rescheduled. I’ll let you know when the next meeting is."
"Hey, that’s my line," she teases.
I smile. "Listen, I’ll be out of the office for a few days. Can you keep things running?"
"Absolutely. You can always count on me." She throws a mock salute.
"I know, Jules. Thank you... for everything."
She starts bustling around. "Oh, I’m not leaving early now. We’re getting responses from potential clients! I need to set up meetings, update the calendar, and plan Chuck’s grand opening!"
"Whoa, that’s months away, "
"Never too early," she says, determined, and vanishes like a whirlwind.
Chuckling, I grab my jacket and head downstairs.
Once in the car, I call Agatha. "You know," her nasally voice comes through, "some of us have jobs and can’t just- "
"Tone it down," I growl, putting the call on Bluetooth.
"Asshole!"
"No, you’re the asshole. Shut up and listen." As I drive, I lay it all out. The plan. The setup. The trap.
"That’s the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard," she says.
"You’re just mad you didn’t come up with it," I snap. "Look, I don’t care what you think. This is happening. Keifer’s going to pay for everything he did to Presley and to me."
"Fuck, Ry," she breathes. "I get it. I’ll help."
"You better," I mutter, gripping the wheel tighter. "Because if you don’t, you’re dead to me, too."
Silence. Then, "I’ll help. Just promise me you’ll finish this."
"I fucking swear it."
"Let me know when."
"You’ll hear it from Rafe," I say. I don’t need to tell her I already saw her sneaking out of his place this morning.
Smirking to myself, I pull up to the house.
Hopping out, I sprint inside.
"Presley! Where are you?"
No answer.
I toss my keys onto the side table. "Prez?"
I hit the kitchen. Empty. Worry claws at my gut.
Taking the stairs two at a time, I reach our room, and stop dead. The door’s closed. Lights off.
My fight response kicks in immediately. No way I’m running. I kick the door open, fumbling for the light. The room is trashed. The bed overturned. Vanity shattered. Clothes everywhere.
No Presley.
Heart pounding, I charge into the bathroom.
There’s blood on the edge of the tub.
Panic tightens around my throat. I turn, and there it is, a note taped to the mirror:
Thank you for taking care of my little doll, but it’s time for her to come home now. Try to find us, and I’ll start mailing you pieces of her. Keif
Ripping my phone from my pocket, I call Rafe. "He’s got her! He found us!"
"Pull yourself together," he snaps. "This is what we planned for. We’ll find him. I’ll grab Kemper. Once he cracks, we’ll end this."
"I like the way you think. Meet me here once you’ve got him. I’m grabbing the artillery."
"Bet."
I end the call and head down to the cellar.
Tonight, I’m not Rygaard Garrison.
I’m death.
And Keifer is my loyal subject.