Chapter 44
A Big Decision
CALLIE
We dart into the murder room, and my brain scans the space to understand what’s happening. I flinch as the smell of the room hits me, which I soon realize is Shane’s vomit. He’s still handcuffed to the chair in front of me, looking like he’s having way less fun than the last time I was tied up.
I gag and cover my mouth and nose.
“Callie, thank god,” Shane says, hair around his face sweaty. He looks like shit. Wes swears softly beside me.
“Did you give him the mince pie?” Wes asks Noah, like he’s speaking to a child who did something a bit naughty.
“He deserves to die.” Noah answers Wes’s question, but looks at me, almost apologetically. “I know originally I was for letting you decide, but that was before I had all the information. I couldn’t let you choose to release him without consequence.”
“Callie,” Shane begs, but his voice is weak.
“Oh,” I say, glancing between Shane and Noah.
“For fuck’s sake, Noah,” Wes growls.
“I’m not sorry. This is the right thing to do for so many reasons.”
I scan Shane from head to toe. He’s… definitely not doing great.
I search my soul for how I really feel about that.
Do I want him to die because of everything he’s done?
Or do I want to forgive him and move on with my life with a clear conscious?
And if it’s the first one, what does that say about me as a human being?
“Cals. Please. After all we’ve been through.”
I let his words sink in. This is a man I once loved, or at least thought I did.
I married him. I felt deep empathy for Shane over the death of his father, as it reminded me of my grief for my mother.
I touch my mom’s emerald ring and spin it on my finger.
Shane and I were a team at the beginning, however briefly.
I search and search. But I feel nothing positive for Shane anymore. There’s not a shred of empathy or sympathy inside me. Does that mean something’s wrong with me? Shouldn’t I care? Even if I don’t love him anymore, I should feel something, right?
And I do. There’s something there. But it’s not anything good.
“You are a terrible person.” I step forward and cock my head to the side.
I sound calm. Too calm. Maybe a truly good person wouldn’t be this emotionless while watching her husband suffer.
But if I’ve learned anything over the past month, there’s a pretty big gray area when it comes to what makes a person good or bad.
“Wh-what?” Shane says with confusion on his face. Noah snorts.
“Shut up,” Wes hisses at Noah.
“What?” Noah’s the picture of innocence as Wes gives him a firm head shake.
“No, Cals.” Shane scrunches his face. “I mean, yeah, I know, I’ve done some bad things, but I don’t deserve this.” Some kind of seizure seems to take over, and Shane’s face is frozen for thirty seconds.
“Is the amount he ate fatal?” I turn to Wes for an answer. His eyes dart to the plate, where there’s what looks like a quarter of the small pie gone.
“Probably.”
Shane whimpers. “I knew that pie was fucked up! There was something disgusting about it. What’s wrong with you people?”
“Hey,” Wes says, looking wounded. “My mince pie is not disgusting.”
“Did you think I was giving you a little treat?” Noah, arms crossed and shaking his head, glares at Shane. “And if it was so disgusting, why’d you keep eating it?”
“I was hungry,” Shane says in a whiny voice.
“Is there a way to counteract the poison?” I ask.
Wes glances at Shane, who’s looking more fucked up by the second. His face has gotten redder, and there’s a bit of foam at the corners of his mouth. Fucking gross. I look back at Wes.
“There’s an antidote of sorts.” Wes maintains eye contact with me while the information sinks in. “It could probably save him. Maybe. If you wanted to.”
“Please. Please! Can I have it?” Shane appears to be having trouble breathing, but finds some energy to beg, his eyes going from me to Wes. He definitely seems to know better than to look to Noah for help.
“Your father killed our parents and our little sister.” Noah sends Shane a death glare. “You don’t deserve an antidote.”
To his credit, Shane stops begging and his eyes bug out, making him look even freakier than he already does with the poison coursing through his veins.
“Come on,” he says—although it’s hard to tell with the slurring—as if he doesn’t believe Noah’s words.
He’s dying. And now, there’s a battle going on inside me. If I were really looking to leave a criminal life behind for good, I should beg Noah to let Wes save Shane. Or at least try to.
I want to feel bad. I want to want to stop it.
Maybe Noah wouldn’t let me. But the fact that I don’t even want to? Wes is staring at me with a deeply concerned expression.
“Ivy was fourteen years old.” Noah’s voice cracks.
He uncrosses his arms and runs one hand down his face, rubbing his eyes under his glasses.
“Your father came into our house and shot our father. Then our mother, who was next to him in bed. Then he went into our sister’s bedroom.
He… assaulted her, then shot her in her bed while she begged and cried.
Why would he do that? Why didn’t he leave her alone?
She was a little girl.” Noah takes a step forward. “Did you know what he did?”
“Of course he didn’t know,” I say, but when I look back at Shane, he’s got an actual remorseful look on his face. There’s clarity there. For how much longer, I’m not sure.
“I told him not to do it.” Shane’s eyes shut for a few seconds. “He killed your parents. That was supposed to be it. Then he heard crying and realized there was a girl there, hiding.”
“How do you know exactly what happened?” I whisper.
“I was there.”
I let out a half-cry and cover my mouth. He knew. All along, Shane knew. He knew what his dad did because he was there. And all those deep conversations we had, all that bonding… he wasn’t telling me the full truth about what happened.
“I tried to get him to leave, but he wouldn’t.” Shane seems to fade out, then back in. “And then my father got killed for it.” His voice cracks. “I hated her for that. Your sister. If she’d just stayed quiet, she’d still be alive, and so would my father.”
Noah steps forward and punches Shane in the face. His head whips backward. A gasp escapes my mouth, and I step toward Wes. He drapes his arm around my shoulders and pulls me against him.
“I’m so sorry,” Wes says to me, kissing the top of my head.
I look up at him, incredulous. “Why are you sorry? I’m sorry. For you and for Noah and for Ivy.” The two of them carry this pain around every day of their lives. I don’t know how they manage it.
“We killed your father.” Noah’s standing in front of Shane. He bends down, his palms resting on his thighs, so he can look right into Shane’s face. Then Noah slaps him again to make sure he’s awake. “Your father was our first, you know. The first horrible man we rid the world of.”
“What?” Shane shakes his head, his eyes darting around the room, appearing to have trouble focusing. They finally land on me. “Cals?”
“I’m not going to save you, Shane.” I press my lips together and gather my thoughts. He was devastated about his father’s death. But he must’ve known his father deserved it. And all the horrible things he’s done since? “You don’t deserve it.”
I think about how he hit me in the barn just a few hours ago. How he grabbed my breast and threatened to assault me. How he did much worse to a dozen or more girls before today, none of whom had someone like Wes to save them.
I’m not going to save him.
It’s over for Shane.
“You tried to blackmail me out of my father’s inheritance. Yeah, I get it was partly because of Jones. But you could’ve talked to me. Instead, you chose violence. You chose this.”
I saw it in his eyes in the barn. They were black. Soulless. I would be dead right now if it weren’t for Wes.
“No,” Shane whimpers, but it sounds more like nah than no, probably because of the poison that’s working hard to kill him.
“I don’t forgive you for what you did to me. You didn’t protect me. You actively tried to harm me in every way. And you would’ve done worse if it weren’t for Wes and Noah.”
His eyes plead with me. I’m not sure he can even talk anymore. His face is turning an unnatural red. Again, I look for any part of me that cares.
I can’t find it.
Once again, I realize I don’t think Wes and Noah are bad. I think they’re ridding the world of horrible people. And while that isn’t the kind of justice that’s widely accepted, there is a sweet satisfaction to it. Noah and Wes are the judge, jury, and executioners, and I trust them.
“We found his copy of the divorce papers in the car,” Noah says, his voice calm.
I startle at the statement and stare at Noah, then Wes.
“It’s true.” Wes nods. “You can still file it.”
“Where is his car?”
“We’ll take care of that.” Noah says. “No one will find it. We’ll make it look like he took off.”
I’m done with Shane. I want to move on with my life. And I want to do it with Wes. I don’t care if that makes me good or bad or somewhere in the middle.
I turn toward Wes and place my palms on his chest, marveling at the feel of his hard chest beneath my hands.
“Wesley, when I first met you, I was hurt and timid and angry. I didn’t want anything to do with a man ever again.
But almost immediately, you started chipping away at the wall I’d built around me. ”
Wes takes my wrists in his hands, running his thumbs on the sensitive insides. Electricity tingles down my arms and to my core. I marvel at the fact that every time he touches me, my body reacts with joy and desire and love.
“I can’t believe you could make me laugh.
I was a hot mess, searching for Shane, mourning my father, lost in every way.
I hadn’t smiled in months. But you—you made me play.
” I chuckle. “And I could do it and feel safe. I could rest. Even when I was in my bed at Jake’s apartment, I knew you were protecting me. You were probably watching me.”
“I was definitely watching you. But I will do a better job of it from now on.”
“That’s fucking hot.” I feel my cheeks heat as Wes pulls my arms around his neck and slides his hands along my waist.
“Fucking hell,” Noah mutters behind us. “You two really are made for each other because that’s creepy as fuck.”
“Spoken like a true serial killer,” Wes says, his eyes locked with mine. “Keep talking, Calliope.”
“Knowing you were always there in some way made me feel the safest I’ve ever felt in my entire life.
And I only wanted to be in your arms. When I sent you away in New York, I’ve never felt worse.
I thought it was for the best, but every moment after that was worse than the last, up until the moment you found me at the barn.
Walking away from you was the biggest mistake of my life. ”
“Fuck, Callie,” Wes reaches down and pulls me up against him by my ass. I wrap my legs around his waist and link my hands around his neck.
“I love you, Wesley. I’m so fucking in love with you.”
“You love me?” His eyes are wide with wonder. I nod vigorously. “But you told me you wanted to start over and live a different kind of life.” Desperation is etched in his face alongside hope and fear.
“Fuck that.” I run my hands up his neck, hanging onto him, burying my fingers in his thick hair. His eyelids flutter. “I want to live a good life. And that good life is with you. I want you. Whatever life I can have with you.”
Shane makes a pathetic sound behind us, but neither of us look his way.
“Lovely, wonderful.” Noah slow claps. “You’re in love with each other. That’s just great. I’m so happy for you. Callie, welcome to the family.”
Wes leans down and gently brings our lips together, kissing me once softly, then more insistently, swiping his tongue in my mouth. I let out a soft moan and arch my back so I’m fully pressed against him.
“This is like a fucked-up Hallmark movie ending, but can we put a pin on your celebration for now?” Noah sighs dramatically. “Because we gotta deal with this asshole before you two can fuck.”
I chuckle into Wes’s mouth, and we pull away.
“I love you,” I whisper.
“I love you more,” he says, placing one last kiss on my lips before lowering me down.
I turn to Shane. He’s—well, he looks like he’s dead. I stare at the face of the man I was married to.
“Is he—” I stop and look at Noah.
“I think so.” Noah steps forward and puts his hand on Shane’s neck, looking for a pulse. When he can’t find one, he nods.
“You okay?” Wes entwines his fingers with mine.
Am I okay? I think so. I do a check. My heart is full.
My mental state—it’s the calmest I’ve felt in months.
The constant feeling of restlessness and unfinished business has disappeared.
Even after I got Shane to sign the papers and had Mom’s ring on my finger, I didn’t feel settled.
I thought it was because I hadn’t left Portland yet.
But I think it was the fact that his existence would hang over my head forever.
And maybe I suspected what he was truly capable of all along.
We rid the world of a monster. And now I can live my life.
Physically, I’m exhausted. My legs are wobbly, I’ve got the start of a headache, I’m thirsty, and all I can smell is that apple pie. I’m starving.
“Can we have pie when we’re done getting rid of him?”
“Not the mince pie,” Wes says with a grave face.
“You’re gonna have to make me a non-poisoned mince pie one day.” I giggle and bump him with my shoulder.
“For you, I’ll do anything.” He brings our linked hands to his mouth and kisses the back of my hand.