Chapter 19
Cade
For days, Bunny and I have been at each other’s throats, snarling and coming to blows about whom to target next—Colette, Nathan, or the mayor.
Each person was vital, a pivotal piece in our suffering.
Bunny wanted them all now, at once, but then the news of Lakens’s death began circulating.
What we did was finally public, and the gore of it all was enough to outrage and terrify an entire state.
“Jefferey Lakens, a police officer at the Riverton Police Department, was found in the early hours of Saturday morning. His newlywed wife, who was found handcuffed to the bed, implored her daughter to call the police. Upon arrival, officers located the deceased. I must warn you, the details of the discovery are hard to stomach and may be inappropriate for some viewers.”
We stayed in bed after that first news cycle, fuming at the anchors who knew nothing, yet they tore us apart anyway.
“The daughter was there! What kind of sick monsters do something so horrific in the presence of children!”
“At all, Kate. What sick monsters would do this at all?”
“It’s pure evil, Jim. That’s the only way to explain what happened to a proud member of our police. Pure sick and twisted evil.”
“Oh, fuck you!” I roared, spitting on the glass. Bunny kept me calm, but she couldn’t mask the fury in her eyes. It materialized as tears that burned angry paths down her cheeks while family, friends, and coworkers made statements. At the end of every testimony, they all said the same thing.
“Only monsters could do something so sick and twisted.” Bunny could only laugh.
“Sick and twisted. I’ll show them something sick and twisted.”
The decision came easily after that. We chose Nathan, the one who set this whole plan in motion, but with him, we were gifted Colette as well—an act of God, my parents would say.
“I can’t believe Susie just had this collecting dust in the back.
” In the driver’s seat, I admire the pristine brown leather inside the 1975 Ford Convertible, imagining it’s mine in another setting, for a better reason.
I almost asked Bunny to picture it, but she’s focused on the open curtains, on Colette and Nathan, who are utterly oblivious to who waits for them below.
Without breaking her stare, Bunny asks, “Do you think it’s weird how Susie is so eager to help us?”
Taking a bite out of a sausage, egg, and cheese bagel, I shake my head. “After what you told her? No.” I’ve seen her with her daughter. There’s nothing Susie wouldn’t do for that girl. I’m pretty certain that includes hurting those who hurt her.
While Bunny mulls over my answer, I offer her the cheesiest part of the sandwich, knowing now that it’s her favorite. Behind her cheddar-covered smile, I see the consideration in her eyes.
“No? But we’re planning on killing people.” More people.
We’re planning on killing more people.
But we can’t really call them that, can we? “Rapists,” I correct. “Murderers. Kidnappers… child molesters. They aren’t people, Bun. And we aren’t villains for slaughtering them.” As much as the media would like to portray us as some. “You know that. I know that, and Susie knows that.”
That’s what matters. But still, I can’t ignore the growing annoyance of the second voice in my head, one that shouts that there are people our actions will destroy. My mom is the only one who matters to me. The same way I’m sure Missy is the only one who matters to her.
I do everything in my power not to listen to those thoughts, though, and I can’t let her fall into that hole either.
Finishing my bagel, I stare intently through the window, watching them drink fancy wine while Bunny shifts beside me.
Leaning into the seat, I drift one hand in the wind, flying with the current, when the other reaches for Bunny’s thigh.
I caress her, hoping to wipe the heaviness from her eyes before asking, “You okay?” She fell into the hole.
Releasing a weighted sigh, she bobs, “Yeah. I just want this over with.”
The day is still bright, unfortunately, but soon. “Only a few more hours.”
When we settled on Nathan being next, he was too easy to find.
A man of habit, sticking to a rigorous schedule like his life depended on it.
It was an odd routine. Or, I should say, it started strangely.
Waking every morning, he’d dress in a similar fashion—coat, button-down, slacks, and loafers.
The weather didn’t matter. Whether it was raining or shining, hot or cold, Nathan was consistent.
He bought the same ingredients as well—chicken breast, potatoes, and a bottle of white wine.
“You’d think he’d get sick of it after a while.”
“Hell, I know I did.” Marone would feed us the same shit day after day.
Once I was promoted from actual spoiled dog food, I received the same bologna and cheese between two hard and dry pieces of white bread every day.
Sometimes the coloring would be off, and the cheese would be a little fuzzier than it should be.
When Nathan finished his shopping and returned everything to his flat in Manhattan, he would take the train to the city, hopping from café to bar to park, introducing himself and wooing na?ve teens and pretty girls, starting the vicious cycle over and over again.
It suddenly dawned on us what he was doing, and it took all our strength not to run up on him in the middle of a conversation and slice him from gut to sternum in the middle of Central Park.
Our willpower was all we had, but it was hanging by a string.
At times, it became too much to withstand, and we had to walk away, breathe, and remind ourselves of the plan.
At the end of his day, we found he met Colette every night outside her yoga class, where he’d wait like an eager boyfriend.
“Mother fucker,” Bunny snarled, “that’s why they were so fucking close.” It’s muffled beneath her breath, so she offers no explanation, just silently fumes with rage as we track them back to her apartment, where they spend the night eating and fucking.
“You think they’ll be done soon?”
“Yeah. This is one of their shorter nights.” I respond, watching them finish off a bottle of red.
“Hm,” she grunts. “Maybe they had a long day.”
Had I simply been a regular passerby, witnessing the smiles on their faces while they clinked their glasses, sharing a kiss, I’d think they were just a couple in love, kind of how I want the world to see Bunny and me.
“You sure she’s a part of it?” I can’t help but ask, not wanting to hurt someone who doesn’t deserve it. Not anymore.
Taking a moment to answer, Bunny forces me to sit in her silence. A churning begins in my gut, worried that I've upset her. The apology is sitting on my tongue, but I refrain from airing it out loud. I need to be sure, even if it makes her mad.
“She’s the one who passed me onto Marone.
” Sniffling, Bunny looks down, wiping little beads from the tip of her nose.
“That was after she had me pose naked for the photos she’d sent to him.
She said I was the perfect girl for her friend, someone he had been looking for…
someone he’d love.” That last part, I know it wasn’t meant for me.
It was said with too much emotion, a clear crack in her chest. Bunny has shared a lot with me, but those breaks… they aren’t for me. Not yet.
Taking her hand, I kiss every finger, every knuckle. “We’ll get her, Bun.” I’ll make sure of it, no matter my intrusive thoughts. “We’ll get ’em all.”
When night has fallen, and we’re concealed beneath the shadows of the city lights, we creep out of the car and head straight for the high-end apartment complex.
Everyone in this city is in a rush, and you notice how, because of it, no one really looks you in the eye.
It would require them to step out of their bubble and focus on someone other than themselves.
In Texas, it wasn’t like that. People always had a greeting ready.
At least in my hometown, they couldn’t wait to insert themselves into your life.
Here, well, I might as well be invisible.
Bunny tears through the crowd without concern: a New York native, that one. But me, I can’t help but shrink and duck my head whenever someone is near, fearful that they’ll know it was me they were talking about on the news. No one stops us, though. They don’t even look.
When we reach the building, Bunny takes us straight to the rear entrance, guiding me through the trash-riddled alley. I bite back the scream at the base of my throat when a rat skitters across my foot. One dashes over hers as well! I don’t even think she noticed.
“Come on,” Bunny whispers, pulling open the heavy metal door. I slip in beside her, the two of us squeezing into the compact space. Before the door shuts completely, sealing us in darkness, we catch a handwritten sign posted.
Elevator Down.
“Shit.”
“It’s okay,” I reassure quietly. Placing my hand on her spine, I gently guide Bunny forward, toward the stairwell.
Upon the first step, Bunny’s breath catches in her throat, her foot barely off the ground.
I stopped with her, peering around in the darkness to see what she did. But there’s nothing there.
“You okay?” I ask after a moment, hovering over her ear. When I run my hands down her arms, the sharp points of her goosebumps dig into me. “What’s wrong?”
I want to pull her away, to drag her out, back into the car, and drive her somewhere that’ll bring her warmth. We can do this another day, I want to compel, but Bunny huffs out a shuddered breath.
“I don’t like the dark.”
Oh, I can help with that.