Chapter 20 #3
“His son did bring his death upon himself,” I said in a bored tone. I was already collecting a list of information to use against Hedgeford.
President Byron turned his head toward my father and Benny standing in the corner, giving them a silent expression, like asking how they dealt with me.
Benny, who was only half paying attention in the first place, looked up from his phone and shrugged.
While Brooks—and most of the population—respected the president, I lacked that regard. I lacked respect for almost everyone.
“Enzo,” my father warned, though his voice was laced with amusement, knowing I’d gotten that trait honestly. He turned toward the president, irritation of his disrespect toward me clear on his face.
No man but him could disrespect me.
It didn’t matter who you were.
Even the president needed to watch his fucking mouth.
“I’ve already started working on the sympathy issue,” I said.
“I’m gathering whatever I can about Hedgeford.
As well as his sister. I’ll pay some idiot to ask for nudes or record himself fucking her and then release it if need be.
” My feet hit the dirty concrete ground, and I stood from the chair.
“Now, unless you have anyone you’d like me to murder, I have other priorities to attend to. ”
President Byron’s shoulders slumped as he bowed his head, staring down at the desk, as if wishing it had the answers he needed.
The possibility of him losing his reelection had to be stressful as fuck.
If he lost, he could no longer use his government power as a tool for his own advantage. Those not in power couldn’t profit from a crooked government.
I cracked my neck as I headed toward the door, bored with this conversation. While I didn’t like the president, I knew him having more power meant my family had more power.
We needed to make sure that continued.
“We’ll be in touch, Byron,” my father told him, following me out of the office.
We ducked out from the hidden entrance and stepped into a room filled with old washing machines. The laundromat was hidden in a neglected area of the city. An area the president had promised to bring back to life but lied about to obviously get votes.
I needed to get back to Blair. I’d left her in my car, locked the doors, and warned her if she tried to run off, the people in this neighborhood wouldn’t hesitate to rob her for a penny before killing her.
The bell above the entrance door rang, announcing our exit to absolutely nobody, and the sun hit my skin as I headed straight to my Porsche in the parking lot.
All my blood pumped to my ears, and I charged toward the car. Some ugly, balding motherfucker was outside Blair’s door, slamming his fist against her window.
“Give me your shit, bitch!” he yelled with another bang.
No one scared my fucking Fawn but me.
No one fucking called her a bitch without paying for it with their life.
I told Blair that Fawns received protection, and she was about to witness it firsthand.
While I didn’t look back, I could feel the presence of my father and Benny behind me. The guy was too focused on getting to Blair, now tugging on the door handle and cursing, to pay attention to me coming.
I wasn’t one to give warnings.
I didn’t want to scare him off. I wanted him to pay for scaring my little Fawn. I dug my leather gloves from my pocket, thankful I’d brought them, and shoved them onto my hands.
Once they were secure, I collected my knife from my back pocket, gripping the handle tight, and crept behind the guy. “Time to meet your judgment day, you junkie motherfucker.”
He hissed when I tugged him in a headlock, holding him in place. As he tried to fight back, Benny stepped to my side and stuck his Glock to the side of the guy’s temple.
We couldn’t pull the trigger. Neither of our guns had silencers. If Secret Service heard the sound of even a single bullet in the vicinity of the president, they’d lose their shit.
I grinned as I slit the man’s throat, tugging on the loose skin as I dug my knife in deep.
When I cut through enough for blood to burst from his neck, I shoved him onto the dirty concrete.
He wriggled on the ground like a fish out of water, gripping his throat, beside dirty cigarette butts and used needles.
Blood seeped through his throat as he gasped for words.
I knelt to his level, my eyes meeting his bloodshot ones.
“Please,” he gurgled out, reaching for me like I was some savior.
“Please what?” I asked.
“H … he …”
I could tell he was trying to say help, but couldn’t form the words.
He wanted my help?
Sure thing, buddy.
I drew my arm back and rammed my knife through his eyeball. He howled in pain. Chuckling, I shoved it deeper into the organ until I felt the tip of the knife hit skull and then the ground.
The guy was pinned down by the face with my knife but managed to thrash his body from side to side.
I rotated my wrist, digging deeper into his eye socket. Once he gurgled blood from his mouth, I drew the knife out a few inches to cut the optic nerve with perfect precision.
I grunted in annoyance at the slight resistance and wiggled the knife a few times to break his eyeball loose from the socket. The muscle around the eyeball broke, and I pulled it clean out and held it up like it was a marshmallow on a skewer I was ready to make s’mores with.
Blair needed to behave, or I’d make her fucking eat it.
Speaking of Blair …
As I stood, I looked into the window, and she stared back, horrified.
“Get her back to the university,” Benny said. “I wish we had something that could zap this from her fucking memory.”
“Men in Black style?” I asked with a slight chuckle.
“If she says a word—” my father started.
“Don’t worry,” I assured. “She knows talking means her death.”
My dad nodded, though I could tell he didn’t fully believe me. He slammed the heel of his loafer onto the man’s face to quiet his whimpers. I heard bones crack.
Blair beat her fists against the window as I saluted them and circled the car. I slid the man’s eye in my pocket, removed my gloves, and tossed them to Benny, who was also wearing gloves, to dispose of them.
When my hands were clear, I unlocked my car via the key fob and swung open the driver’s door.
She scooted as far away from me as she could get when I slid into the car. I chuckled when she tried to open the door, but my father slammed it back shut in her face. She shrank back in her seat at the stern expression he gave her.
I slowly started the engine while my father and Benny headed toward the front of the laundromat, where my father’s driver was waiting in the black SUV. Benny was on the phone, and I knew he was giving directions for someone to come dispose of this loser’s body.
No one would miss that man.
In fact, I’d done the world a favor.
You’re welcome, civilization.
When my father and Benny were almost to the SUV, Blair opened her door.
“Go ahead,” I said, my voice stopping her from doing something stupid.
She froze, staring at me from over her shoulder.
“Hang out with his dead body. I’m sure his friends will come over to finish the job he wanted to. And this time, I won’t be there to protect you.”
“All he wanted was my purse,” she argued, slamming the door shut, then holding said purse against her chest.
I clicked my tongue. “Silly, Blair. He wanted your purse, that necklace around your neck, and to fuck your pussy before dismembering your clit and wearing it as a fucking earring.”
She winced, her eyes widening, and pounded her pointer and middle finger against her skull. “What the fuck is wrong with your demented-ass brain?”
“Everything,” I said with a giant smirk before winking. “If you haven’t already established that I’m crazy as fuck, Blair, then I guess I severely doubted the smarts of the Fawn that I’d chosen.” I shifted the car into reverse and pounded my foot on the gas.
We sped back so fast that we nearly backed into the laundromat.
I turned the wheel, speeding out of the parking lot, noticing my father and Benny. I waved to his driver, grateful they’d taken up the job of cleaning up the body. As much as I loved killing, disposing of the bodies was always a fucking drag.
It took the high out of it.
Blair sat on her knees to look out the back window. “You’re just going to leave his body there?”
“No, someone will come take out the trash.” I grabbed a napkin from the center console, plucked the eye from the pocket, careful not to smash it, and held it out to her with the napkin. “You want it?”
I refused to touch the eye with my bare hands. As a germaphobe who also messed with blood, I made sure to always have gloves with me. Who knew what was in this guy’s bloodstream?
“What? No!” she shrieked.
“Fair enough.” I tossed it out the window and drove over it.