Chapter Twenty-Six – Hawthorne
How I wish I could’ve gone with them. While they’re gone, we don’t have any contact, so I spend the time pacing about the house. I do some cleaning, some laundry, and I douse my internal organs with as much coffee as I can swallow.
All in all, it’s a shitty time.
I don’t sleep much, and so as the hours wear on and the day turns into the next, my nerves become a jumble.
Trust me, I would have loved to see it for myself, to witness Abby taking her revenge on the asshole who hurt her sister.
I would have loved to stand there at her side as she metamorphized into a new being.
It is beautifully, wickedly sweet when you finally can breathe that breath of relief, when the person who changed your life and helped take away the person you held dearest is gone for good.
D.D.K. will have another victim, and his name is Connor Connair.
I don’t know how long it will take for the authorities to find Connor’s body, but from a deep-dive into him, he sounded like someone who constantly goes on and off social media.
Sometimes he posts multiple times a day, other times there are weeks in between.
His last message to his parents was weeks ago, and that appears pretty normal.
Again, when someone finally realizes something is wrong, it’ll be far too late.
When it’s time for them to return, I pace the living room and keep glancing out of the window. Provided they stopped for meals, and adding in any stops for gas, I can pinpoint the hour they come home.
I’m good at some things. I might not go out in the field like they do, but that’s okay. I don’t mind being the man behind the team, the one who does the math and gathers everything they’d need to get the job done. Like a father figure, in a way—only decidedly not.
A father figure definitely would not be imagining sweeping Abby into his arms upon her return and kissing her so hard he steals the breath right out of her lungs, for example.
Well, maybe there are father figures out there like that. Father figures like that are probably the kinds of people that would end up on the sharp edge of the saws Royal, Ezra, and Abby use.
I’m in the process of making a full loop in the living room when I see headlights turning into the driveway, and I immediately stop pacing and make a beeline through the house.
Trying to act all cool, calm, and collected? Like I wasn’t just pacing the house? Not going to happen, so I’m not going to try.
The door swings open, and the moment it does, I say, “I missed you so much, I—” And then I see who it is, and I stop before I say anything else.
It’s Royal, and all he does is frown at me. Frown at me and stop before anyone else can funnel into the house. The man literally blocks the entire doorway with his oversized musculature. “Well?” he asks. “Don’t stop there. You missed me so much what?”
Someone peeks her head around his frame: Abby. She giggles and says, “Yeah, how bad did you miss Royal, hmm?” Of course she’d be all about it. “Go on, be specific.”
I heave a sigh and motion for Royal to get in the damn house so I can greet Abby like I want to.
Royal frowns at me, clearly not wanting to move, but when Ezra speaks from the back, still standing in the garage, “Just get inside already. I want to shower,” he finally moves past me.
His shower will have to wait a little bit, however.
Before Abby can say a single word, I pull her in for a hug. Not something I’m used to doing.
She fits easily against my body, her face buried in my chest. She giggles again, but nevertheless she wraps her arms around my midsection and returns the embrace.
A few seconds pass, and then she angles her face up at me and grins widely, teasing, “Miss me that much, huh? Maybe I should go away more often. Wonder what the homecoming would be if I’m gone for a week. ”
I don’t respond to her, not with words, anyway. The embrace ends only so I can cup her face with my hands and bend over to kiss her, and just like before she left, she tastes of sweetness and wonder.
Ezra dropped the bag near the door, and he now stands near Royal, who mutters under his breath, “Get a fucking room. Oh, wait.” Beside him, Ezra rolls his eyes.
The kiss isn’t a long one. We don’t get too into it.
No tongues involved or anything like that.
When her mouth is no longer on mine, I say, “Let’s debrief.
” I’m about to turn and lead the way—as much as I’d like to take Abby to our room and tear off her clothes, if I don’t send the Benefactor a report…
Well, let’s just say I don’t want to give them any reason to pull Abby out of this house and put her with another group. As far as I know that’s never happened before, but I also don’t know if any other group is as entangled with each other as we are now.
“Here? Now?” Abby’s innocent voice drips a certain slyness. “All right. Royal, take off those pants—”
I sigh. “That is not what I meant by debrief.”
Abby’s joke earns her a chuckle from both Royal and Ezra, and as I turn around, a smile finds its way to my face, too. Damn it. See? There’s something about her that just tugs at something inside you, something you can’t fight, can’t ignore.
Soon enough we are in my office, and I sit with my laptop open, a document at the ready.
We go through the normal list of questions.
As far as I know, the cleaning crew is already long gone; they also get in and get out as fast as they can.
We are a well-oiled machine, and even though we might’ve taken in Abby, we’ll remain that way.
We have to, if we want to continue doing what we do. Frankly, there’s nothing else in the world I’d rather do, nothing else that would give me the same amount of purpose this does.
I’m locked in my analytical mind as we do the debriefing.
My fingers work overtime on the keyboard as I type out everything the three across from me say.
It’s such a normal thing to do when they get back from a kill that I momentarily forget just who the target was this time, and I don’t have the chance to ask Abby how she’s feeling before the three of them wander off and leave me to finish writing and formatting the report.
I don’t stop them. I let them go, diligently doing my work. It’s only after the report is sent that I get up and wander to our room, finding Abby leaning against the window, only the lamp near the bed on.
“Knock, knock,” I say, causing her to toss a smile over her shoulder at me. My feet draw me closer to her, until I’m standing with her at the window. “The three of you ran off after the debriefing, I didn’t get the chance to ask you how you’re doing.”
Abby turns toward me, leaning her back against the wall beside the window, her hands held behind her back. Her silvery eyes are vibrant with life, and a gentle smile is slow at tugging at her lips. “I’m good.”
I don’t say anything, figuring there’s more to it. There is. There has to be.
“I am,” she says, as she must sense my doubt. “The people who say revenge doesn’t make you feel any better are liars. Or good people—and we all know none of us are good people. So, yeah, I feel good knowing that asshole is dead. I’m glad I was the one who cut off his head.”
“Good,” I say. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there with you when you did it.”
“Don’t be. You have a system going, and I’m a part of the team now.
I don’t want to fuck up the system too much.
” She smirks, and then she turns her head and stares off into space.
“If anything, I feel sorry that I couldn’t give Connor what he deserved sooner.
I don’t want to think about the girls he could’ve possibly hurt over the years, or the good times he had between.
” She shakes her head once. “The world’s a better place without him, that’s all I know. ”
I’m glad she’s not feeling guilty. I don’t think any of us felt guilty after taking out our personal demons. She truly does belong with us. “He made three, didn’t he?”
The smile she gives me right then is wide, ear to ear. “You remembered.”
“Of course I did. I remember everything. It’s a blessing and a curse.”
With a nod, Abby says, “Connor made three. Granted, the circumstances were a little different, and I had Royal and Ezra with me this time, but I’m still counting it. Your girl’s a serial killer now. Isn’t that exciting?”
She sounds like she’s talking about landing the concert tickets she’s always wanted, front-row to her favorite musician.
Like she’s remarking on a perfectly-scored test everyone else failed.
Something unusual, but more normal. I don’t know anyone who’d sound so thrilled about becoming a serial killer.
“It is,” I agree.
“What are we going to do to celebrate? I mean, we are going to celebrate, right? It isn’t every day you become a serial killer. We should throw a little party or something—clothes optional.” With that, she winks at me, and in spite of it all, a blush creeps up my cheeks.
She knows exactly how to make me blush. It’s a little embarrassing, but she seems to enjoy doing it, so I try not to think about it too much.
“Why don’t you let me talk to the others, and I’ll see what we can do for you.
” If she wants a party, clothes optional, then that’s what we’ll do.
Whatever she wants, whenever she wants. She seems like an easy person to make happy, but that doesn’t mean it’s an excuse for effort to be low.
Oh, no. Abby deserves all of the effort.
“You’re the best,” she croons, and then she stands on her tiptoes, pulls my top half down, and places a kiss on my cheek. “Now, I think I should follow the guys’ lead and shower.” She lets me go, and then she sniffs her own armpit. “Phew. I am rank.”
“Well, I didn’t want to say anything, but—” I am only teasing her, as she is so often to tease me. I can barely get the words out before she laughs a full-belly laugh, like it’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard.