Chapter 37 Caroline
CAROLINE
Iwalk straight through the lobby and get into the elevator. The doorman stares at me and I smile back sweetly.
“You got some, uh, red stuff on you, sweetheart.” He points in my general direction. “Is that blood? You at some kind of costume contest or something?”
“Oh, no worries. It’s not mine.”
The doorman’s face turns pale. Finn looms beside me and the guy glances over at my husband. “You folks okay? You need anything?”
“We’re good.” Finn stares at him until the doors slide shut and the elevator jerks into motion.
“Does everyone act like you’re some kind of scary monster all the time?”
“Pretty much.”
“I like it.”
“You get used to it.”
We stand in companionable silence as the elevator continues to rise. I hum to myself, singing the corporate-sounding tune, until we reach the penthouse level. The elevator dings and I step into the entry hall.
Ahead, the apartment’s door looks like it was smashed off its hinges. It’s lying sideways like a rhino burst straight through.
Finn goes first, gun out. He pauses at the threshold. “More blood,” he says.
This time, that sounds like good news.
We go in together. The apartment is nicely furnished, but very plain.
There’s almost nothing on the walls. The decorations look like they’re straight from a designer magazine.
Leave it to my brother to hire someone to take care of that for him.
No personality, no touch of life, nothing but sterile beige colors and little junk that signifies wealth.
The place is a status symbol. It’s definitely not a home.
Finn clears the main living room. The kitchen is barren. No surprise there. He takes the stairs to the second floor and I stay close on his heels. “Check this out,” he murmurs, frowning at another ruined door.
It looks like a bomb went off inside. I’m guessing it was a guest room at some point, but now the bed’s been slashed to ribbons and boxes were overturned on the floor. Sawdust covers the hardwood floors, seeping into their cracks. Finn kicks at one and frowns.
There’s a gun buried in the mess.
“I guess Mal found our little present,” I say brightly. I’m practically beaming with excitement now. “Cormac did a good job hiding it.”
“My brother’s nothing if not efficient.” Finn moves back out into the hall. “If Mal was here, Dermot was too. What are the chances they both left alive?”
“Let’s see the damage.” I stride down the hall toward the master bedroom. The door is closed, but that doesn’t bother me at all.
I’m practically singing, I’m so excited.
This is the end of my family. It’s an extinction event. My mother is dead, my brothers are warring, and my father is missing. Who knows if any of them are going to survive the day. They’re waging a running battle and getting into fucking knife fights. It’s fantastic.
I’m grinning like a maniac as we step into Dermot’s battle station.
That’s what he calls it, anyway. There’s a bed against the wall, but that’s the only way anyone would know this place is supposed to be a suite. The majority of the space is taken up by multiple desks covered in computer equipment.
There are monitors everywhere. Some scroll through data in incomprehensible languages.
Others show images of the street outside, more show images of the apartment down below.
There are dozens of them scattered all over.
A few are running what look like bot farms, but I can’t figure out what they’re doing.
It’s a fascinating glimpse into Dermot’s world. The place is a mess. Cables are tangled all over the place. But I’m drawn to the back wall, toward the largest of the desks with the most elaborate bank of screens, like something from a movie.
Dermot’s slumped in front of the keyboard.
Blood’s everywhere, staining the mouse, the keys, the screens.
He must’ve booted his system up at some point.
His body is leaning sideways in the chair like he wants to surf the web, but can’t bring himself to do it.
I approach, slowly, and Finn tries to hold me back, but I shake myself loose. He’s not happy, but I am.
I slowly turn Dermot’s chair.
My brother stares at me in alarm. He flinches back, lifting one arm. His sudden motion scares the crap out of me. I leap backward and scream. I slam into Finn’s chest and he grabs me, turning his shoulder so he’s protecting me, the gun jammed forward against Dermot’s face.
Dermot lets out a soft, pathetic whimper. “Don’t shoot. Please, don’t do it.”
“Fuck,” I say, shuffling away from Finn’s grip. “Dermot? You’re alive?”
He groans and looks down at himself. “Yeah, I’m alive.
I think… I think I’m going to be okay. For a while I was bleeding…
but it slowed. Malachy tried to kill me, but I had on Kevlar.
That mostly stopped the knife.” He laughs, his expression wild.
“Still got me though. Hurt like crazy. I’ve never been stabbed before. ”
“I have,” Finn murmurs, still pointing the gun at him.
“What happened?” I kneel down in front of Dermot and take his hand. He looks confused, but he doesn’t pull away. I think he’s grateful that there’s someone here to help him. The poor guy. He’s never been good at taking care of himself.
“Mal went berserk. You should’ve seen it. He just lost his mind.”
“Tell me from the start.”
“Shit, Caroline. I need a doctor. I need stitches probably.” He grimaces as he shows me the wound. It’s a jagged slice down his side and it’s slowly oozing, but not too bad. “How’d you know I was here?”
“We found Mom.”
Dermot’s skin pales more. “Oh. You did?”
“She’s dead.”
He doesn’t look surprised, which confirms it for me. If I wasn’t sure, I am now.
“Malachy. He totally went nuts. Seriously, Caroline, the guy’s a nutjob.
He broke into my place and started screaming about guns, about me stockpiling weapons to move against him.
Which is crazy! I don’t even want to run our stupid family!
I only hired those security guys because someone’s trying to kill us!
” He stares at me and glances at Finn. The gun’s still aimed at his face.
“Would you, uh, lower that? And maybe call an ambulance?”
Finn doesn’t move. He barely even reacts.
“Dermot, why would Mom get hurt? You and Mal were fighting, right?”
He looks back at me. “Uh, right, but she tried to get in the middle, and Mal was, like, being a total psycho. Just stabbing everything. And I guess he, uh, stabbed Mom by accident… and you know, just kept going… he couldn’t control himself. He didn’t mean to kill her. I think.”
He licks his lips and glances to the side. I follow his gaze and lean across him, but he grabs at me.
Finn whips forward. Dermot grunts in alarm and pain as the butt of Finn’s gun cracks across his jaw. My brother releases me and I nearly fall into a tangle of wires, my hand grabbing down on something hard and sticky.
My heart throbs crazily. I push more wires aside. Finn wheels Dermot back, the gun pressed against my brother’s skull, as I dig into the mess. It’s sticky and gross…
And there, buried, is a knife, drenched in blood. I grab it by the handle and slowly lift it out. The blade gleams with red as I turn.
Dermot’s watching with terror in his eyes.
“What is this?” I ask him gently.
“Mal left it! Mal did it, I swear!” He’s looking around like he’s trying to find an escape, but there are only piles of computer junk and broken hardware scattered all over his cluttered lair.
“Why would Mal leave his own knife here? Why would he bury it under a bunch of cables and crap on your desk?”
“He was… he was… trying to frame me!”
It’s a funny idea, considering that’s exactly what we were trying to do to him.
I lower the blade so it’s aimed at his chest. “Mal knew I’d come here and find it. And you just left it there?”
Dermot’s mouth opens, but nothing comes out. He looks at me for a long moment, panic bouncing across his expression, before he finally breaks down.
It’s beautiful to witness. He crumples like a napkin. His shoulders shake as he cries big, fat, ugly tears. His disgusting, snotty face stares at me in bewilderment. “It was an accident,” he wails.
I’ve never been more repulsed by a person in my life, and that’s saying something.
Dermot’s done terrible things to me. He once shaved my head while Shane held me down, took pictures of my bald scalp, and posted them online for our classmates to laugh at.
Just boys being boys, the school administration said.
Which now I realized really meant they were terrified of my father.
This is a new low for him. I lean forward, pressing the blade to his chest. He whimpers, sniffing and wiping his face.
“Say that again.” I stare into his eyes, holding his gaze. “How was it an accident?”
“Mal and I were fighting,” he says miserably, like the words are coming out on their own power.
“Mal was losing his mind, kept saying something about finding guns in my house and blaming me for trying to take him out. I had to defend myself, but then Mom tried to break it up, and she grabbed me, and I just…”
“You just stabbed her.”
He nods, sniffling. “Just the once!”
“I saw her, Dermot. Tell me the truth.”
“Okay, it was more than once… and then Mal helped me drag her into the office… and she wasn’t doing great, and Mal started freaking out again and then Dad got involved… and that’s when I got hurt. I don’t know what happened to Mom after that. I swear it!”
“You butchered her.”
“No, no, no, no, it’s not like that. It was a mistake. Just an accident. I was out of control, fighting for my life, and she got in the middle of it—”
“You know what’s sick? I’m not even surprised anymore. After everything you’ve done to me, I’m not shocked that you’d stoop this low. That you’d do something so reprehensible.”
“Caroline,” he says, eyes wide, the tears threatening again. “I’d never—”
I hit him in the face. I hit him as hard as I can. He grunts in shock. “Don’t you fucking lie to me. Don’t you dare.” I hit him again, mostly because it feels good, and press the knife to his neck.
“Please, I’d never hurt Mom, not on purpose.” Tears stream down his face.
“No, you save that for me most of the time.”
He sobs once. “I was awful to you when we were young. I’m sorry, I was an idiot!”
“You weren’t even a kid. You just liked abusing one. And you know what’s funny about all this?” I lean in close, my lips pulling back into a big smile. “I’m the one who killed Shane and Redmond. It was me and Finn the whole time.”
Dermot jerks back in pure shock. He looks at me then at Finn. My husband stands nearby, watching. His eyes are hooded and dark. I can see the lust on his face, how badly he wants to torture Dermot the way Dermot must’ve tortured him. Except this one’s all mine.
“You two? But… but why?”
“You really have to ask? After what you did to me? After the hell you put him through? This is your sin catching up to you.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Caroline, I’m sorry—”
“Not good enough. I hope there’s something after this, mostly so you can rot in fucking hell where you belong.”
I jerk the knife. He gags in shock as I dig the blade in deep, sawing and cutting.
There’s so much blood. It spurts out in thick gouts as I slice my brother’s throat open.
I keep going, screaming as I do it, wild and out of control, hating him for what he did to me and Finn and Mom, hating him so much it spills out of me like black oil.
I only stop when Finn puts a hand on my shoulder and Dermot’s not moving anymore. He’s a pile of pale, sticky flesh.
“Good job,” Finn says and pulls me against him. I let out a cathartic sigh and close my eyes.
There’s a mechanical click from back toward the door.
Finn goes tense. I don’t recognize the sound but it’s clear he did. Slowly, he turns and forces me to look with him.
Malachy’s standing ten feet away, a gun aimed at Finn’s head.
My oldest brother looks steady. His face is shockingly calm. I expected to find a manic, psychopathic, paranoid mess, but it’s like he’s back to himself. I’m almost happy.
Except Mal keeps the gun trained on Finn. “Drop your weapon.”
“I don’t know what you think is happening here—”
Mal grips the gun with his free hand, steadying his aim. “Count of three or I kill my sister and then I kill you. One. Two—”
Finn drops his gun. It clatters to the floor. “Don’t shoot her.”
I cling tightly to my husband. I feel sick. My heart’s a hammering mess. This can’t be happening. How much did he hear?
But it’s clear from the look on his face that he knows everything.
God, I’m so stupid. If I hadn’t made that damn speech, we might be able to spin this. Make Mal think we killed Dermot to help him.
Instead, I ruined it all.
“Hands behind your head. Both of you.” Mal steps sideways. “There’s a car waiting downstairs. You’ll get in the back. You won’t say a word.”
“Doesn’t have to be like this.” Finn stares at my brother. He’s filled with latent violence and the threat of more to come. “Dermot’s gone. That leaves only you.”
“That’s right. Just me left to cross off your list.” Mal jerks his head. “Start walking.”
Finn hesitates, but when Mal aims the gun at me again, he moves to the door. We shuffle past him awkwardly, Finn with one arm around my shoulders, hugging me tight against him protectively. Mal stays close and the gun never wavers.
“I should’ve known from the start,” he says quietly as we walk down the stairs.
“Who else had the access and the motive? Poor little Caroline. Always crying because her big brothers were so mean to her. And look at you, Finn Whelan, still as pathetic and weak as ever. What kind of man holds on to a childhood grudge like this?”
I cling tighter to him. Finn’s body is a coiled spring ready to break. “Leave her out of this,” he says through his teeth. “She didn’t do anything. I’m the one that put her up to it. Without me—”
But he gets cut off as we approach the elevators. The doors slide open and my father’s standing there waiting.
He raises his gun.
“Enough of that,” he says very calmly. “The only reason you’re both still alive is you’re more valuable to me breathing.
So what we’re going to do is we’re going to go down through that lobby, and the doorman’s going to ignore us.
He’s smart and he likes getting paid. Then we’ll drive back to my office, and we’ll hash this out together. Do you understand?”
I’m trembling with terror. That sounds like being buried alive. My knees go weak and I want to scream. I know what happens to me in that office when I disobey.
But Finn speaks up. “We’ll go. No more fighting. Just don’t hurt Caroline.”
“Smart man.”
Dad’s smile is wicked and proud. He jerks the gun. “Step inside. Let’s go straighten this out.”