10. Ezekiel
10
EZEKIEL
I can t hear any more, Blue says. I m going to bed. I can t listen. This is sick. She stands and turns to me. You re a part of this? You choose this?
Go get some rest.
She exhales, glances at Robbie and Jericho, like she s trying to figure out how this is normal. It s not. Without another word, she leaves the room.
I don t miss my brother s eyes on me after she s gone.
So, what the hell is Girard doing as a guest of Councilor Augustus? Jericho asks.
Not quite sure. Perhaps they ve let bygones be bygones? Robbie says.
I doubt that, Jericho says.
I agree with my brother. What matters now is that Girard is in town. I assume he knows both Hoxton brothers are dead. And he knows Blue is here, I say.
With you, Jericho adds.
Not necessarily. Hoxton recognized her. Girard didn t see her last night and Augustus has never seen her. If Hoxton was working for Girard, he wouldn t have mentioned Blue to the Councilor.
I m not sure I d take that chance. Having her around places you in danger, Brother.
I ignore Jericho s comment. Were you able to get any files off that flash drive? I ask Robbie instead.
Some. They re similar to what we ve seen on the laptop itself. Councilor s files, video footage of punishments, and what looks like compromising information on various Society members.
So, blackmail material, I say.
Girard will blackmail Augustus, Jericho says.
And others, most likely. I m working on a correlation between those files that aren t stolen from the Councilors official records, Robbie says.
Maybe Girard plans on punishing not only the Councilor but those who helped him in his effort to convict him? I ask.
Makes sense, actually. Girard was biding his time, waiting until he could strike.
Twenty-five years is a long time, I say.
As Robbie said earlier, revenge is a dish best served cold, Jericho says.
Robbie s phone rings and he silences it, then types out a response and stands. Gentlemen, I have a dinner date. I should have more for you tomorrow.
Just one more question. What s the status of Blue s father s parole?
He ll leave prison in two days.
I nod gravely. I ll see you out, Jericho says and leaves to walk Robbie to the door.
Cut her loose, Jericho says once he returns.
I m helping myself to a tumbler of whiskey but stop mid-pour to turn to him. What does that even mean?
Let her go. Give her the money she wants and get her out of the country. Hell, I ll do it. I want her away from you. From my family.
I sip my whiskey, anger tightening my gut, my chest as I study my brother. I ll tell you what, you take care of your family. I ll take care of Blue.
See, that s the problem, he says, crossing to where I m standing. You don t owe her anything. There s nothing to handle. Cut her loose, Zeke. She s trouble. I knew it from day one and so did you. You have killed two men for her. Two.
I swallow my whiskey as Jericho pours himself one.
She s in danger. I m not leaving her out there on her own. She is so far out of her league she stands no chance without me.
What do you owe this woman exactly? You want to fuck her? Fine. Be my guest. Fuck to your heart s content.
I didn t realize I needed your permission.
Take the night. Hell, take the week. Get her out of your system, pay her off and send her on her way.
Did you hear a word I said?
My wife s arm was broken because of her. It could have been so much worse, Zeke!
And like I told you earlier, that was our fault. Not Blue s. Blue never wanted to go to that event. She was scared. We should have been smarter about it.
He studies me, eyes boring into me. Thing with my brother is, he knows me. And I hate that about him. He snorts. Oh fuck me. Do not tell me you care about her. You can t.
Because I m not capable? I know this about myself, but he has no right to say it.
That s not what I meant, and you know it.
What did you mean then? I ask, getting in his face.
I don t know how many fucking times you need to hear this before it gets through your thick skull, but she is not Zo?. Saving her will not bring our sister back.
You re a fucking asshole, you know that? I know it won t bring Zo? back. I know Zo? is long dead. This has nothing to do with Zo?. Nothing! Get that through your damn skull, Brother!
Jericho steps away then turns back to me. You know what, I m leaving. I m leaving before we both say things we don t mean. Take my advice. Go upstairs and fuck her. Take care of that itch. We ll talk then.
No, we won t. Do not force me to choose.
My brother opens his mouth, but before he says a word, he closes it. Reconsiders. I can almost see the machinations of his brain. Does he know something I don t? Because I just threw that comment out there. But if it came down to it, would I truly choose Blue over my family?
I m going home to make sure my wife and kids are safe while I wait for you to get your head out of your ass.
I don t bother walking my brother out. Instead, I finish my whiskey and pour myself another. He wants me to cut her loose . I can t do that for so many fucking reasons. I m not leaving another helpless girl on her own against men too powerful to escape. But that s not all. I am selfish. And I am greedy. I want her.
But I need to take care. I don t want to hurt her, and I can t give her what she wants. I m not capable of that and I know it. So does my brother. Blue is the only one who doesn t know.
Make love to me, she d said. I can still see her face so clearly when she spoke those words. Still hear the plea in her voice. The meaning of those carefully chosen words.
Make love to me.
I swallow my whiskey and pour another.
Seeing her tonight in the kitchen, repeating her words back to her, that was my mercy. I saw her face. I saw how the words cut. But that cutting is my kindness. Because Blue is young, and she is innocent. And she may think herself in love with me, but I won t allow it.
I won t allow her to love a beast. A monster.
That s not to say I will let her go. I can t do that. Not now. The thought of it feels like an amputation. I won t cut her loose and the reason for that is not only her safety. I can at least admit that.
So, what does this make me? Half-monster? Is that a thing?
I remember something else she d said that had stumped me.
She wants to kill her father. Is my sick mind making some connection with her over this shared brutality? Because there is a difference between Blue and I. Blue may think she wants to commit murder, but I have done it. Four lives I ve taken. Her hands are still clean. I plan on keeping them that way.
I pick up the bottle to pour again but change my mind. I leave my glass and carry the bottle out of the room. I ve been looking around the house while Blue slept today. It was a distraction. I move through the corridor past the kitchen which still has the light on. It s the only light guiding me now as I make my way to the door at the end of the hall. It was locked and I wonder if that was for Matty because the key was on top of the frame. All it took was a quick sweep with my fingers to find it.
I take it from the same place now, fingertips coming away dusty, and insert it into the lock. It s not like the lock on the door that leads to the cellar at my old house, Jericho s home. That is bolted up tight and with good reason. This one is simply to keep a child out. What happened down here between Carlton and his cousin, Julia, was consensual, even if some would consider it wrong given their relation. It was two consenting adults fucking.
What happened in our cellar was about as far from consensual as can be.
I switch on the light and walk downstairs where there s a small movie theater on one side. There s a popcorn machine and a bar. The popcorn machine is empty, but a few bottles of liquor remain at the bar.
That s not the room I m interested in tonight, though.
There was another, this one locked just like the one upstairs. I guess they weren t taking any chances of a child walking into it. Or maybe it was for Isabelle s sake. They wouldn t want to be found out.
I reach up to take the key from its place on the frame and unlock it. When I push the door open, a scent of basement comes over me. It nauseates me because it brings back memories. It smells like an underground, incomplete space. It is.
The ceiling lamp is burnt out so, using the light coming in from the outer room, I cross to the table beside the armchair to switch on the lamp there. It casts a soft, golden glow over the room. I bring the whiskey bottle to my lips and drink as I take it all in. It s about the same size as the movie room, maybe a little smaller. The walls and floor are cement. No windows here. The only furniture in the space is that single armchair with the table beside it, a small area rug that is so dusty I can see my own footprints when I step on it.
A TV is mounted to the wall and in a cabinet below the TV are DVDs. I guess Bishop wasn t streaming his porn. Inside the cabinet is a stereo that would have been cutting edge about ten years ago.
The one thing I find of interest is a wooden beam that s probably been here since the house was built that has padded handcuffs hanging from the top. The armchair is set exactly right to view whoever is bound to it.
I take a seat in the chair now and drink my whiskey straight from the bottle.
Every house has secrets it keeps. What took place down here? Was Carlton Bishop fucking his cousin in here? Or was there some darker intent.
I get up, open the cabinet s glass door where the stereo sits and push the button to turn it on. I m surprised when a light blinks green, although there s no reason it wouldn t work, I suppose. There s a stack of CDs. How long has it been since I ve handled a CD? I look through Bishop s collection and find one that s fitting for my mood. Guns n Roses. Sympathy for the Devil . I pop the CD into its pocket and hit play and I drink my whiskey as the familiar tune begins.