Chapter 17 #2
I lean in to kiss him again, but this time he wraps his arms around my neck and pulls me down on top of him. I sink against his body, humming against his sweet lips. He bucks his hips, grinding his erection against my quickly swelling cock.
“Naughty,” I murmur.
“Will you fuck me again when you get home?”
“I sure will, precious.”
I have to force myself to walk away, but I manage it, and I head downstairs ready to get to work.
The target is only a fifteen-to-twenty-minute drive from here and if he’s smart, he’s going to be dropped off at home after being released from prison and not go anywhere else.
We should get there around the same time if he left downtown Mistone shortly before six.
I’m glad Rue has Colson to hang out with. Colson is open and artistic. Maybe he can even help Rue find his passions and some direction once this is all settled.
Once I’m in my car, I punch the address into the GPS nav and wait for it to calculate while I flip through the folder again, memorizing the target’s face. Michael Heller.
While I drive, I picture exactly what I’m going to do to him. He likes to exploit kids? No fucking mercy.
As I fly down the highway, my thoughts are torn between the job I have tonight and the beautiful man I left behind.
I sure as fuck never saw myself wanting to keep someone around, but being with Rue feels like finding buried treasure.
I want to hoard him, protect him, adore him.
Could I love him? Fuck if I know, but I’m damn sure open to trying.
Surprised laughter bubbles out of me. Me in a relationship? Love? What the actual fuck? Maybe Shadow is right and there’s something in the water at Crestvale House poisoning us with feelings.
I make it to the target’s house in eighteen minutes and slow down as I turn onto his street. There are some dim lights on in the front, but there are no cars in the drive or parked out front. Could it be my lucky night and he’s alone?
I park a few houses away and exit the car, creeping along silently.
It’s not late, so the possibility of running into a neighbor is certainly there.
Ducking behind some shrubbery, I make my way to the gate and slip into the backyard.
The back of the house is all glass, making it very easy for me to see the target sitting alone on the sofa, looking down at his phone.
I watch for several minutes to make sure he’s truly alone, while also surveying the house for cameras, motion-activated lights, or any other kind of security, but it looks pretty low tech.
He’s probably arrogant enough to think his money keeps him safe.
He’s wrong. Dead wrong, if I want to be specific.
I chuckle at my own dark humor and creep farther into the yard.
There’s not much room for me to stay out of sight given the windows, so there’s only one way to handle this.
I decide to head back to the front and simply knock on the door, pulling my hood up in case there are any neighbors paying attention, but people in posh neighborhoods like this tend to keep to themselves.
I ring the bell and knock, shuffling my feet as I wait for Michael to answer. I hear him grumbling before he reaches the door, yanks it open, and glares at me.
“What?” he snaps.
“Michael Heller?”
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Call me Justice.”
I shove his chest, forcing him back, and step inside, closing the door behind me and sliding the deadbolt.
Michael looks more confused than panicked. “Get the fuck out of my house.”
“I’ll go when I’m ready.”
He tenses, pressing himself against the wall. “What do you want? Money? I can hook you up.”
“Nah, I’m good. Why don’t we have a little talk?”
I motion to the living room, a panicked expression taking over Michael’s features. He tears off for the back door, but I lunge forward, grabbing the back of his shirt and slamming him to the floor.
He rolls onto his back, wildly swinging at me with his eyes closed, but he doesn’t even graze me. I grip his neck, squeezing hard enough to get his attention. He’s no match for me. He’s soft, middle-aged, and clearly hasn’t seen the inside of a gym in a long time.
“I’ll snap your fucking neck,” I growl.
He puts his hands up. “Okay, okay. Just tell me what you want. I’ll give you anything.”
“I want you to tell me why. Why do sick fucks like you want to hurt kids? What the fuck happened to you to make you find children attractive, you fucking monster?”
Michael’s eyes go wide and his breathing quickens.
“Answer me and maybe I’ll make it hurt less.”
He presses his lips closed, his eyes darting as he looks for a way out. I lift his head then smack it against his marble floors. He grunts with pain, blinking several times.
“Answer me.” When he doesn’t, I smash my fist into his jaw. “I got all night, motherfucker. Or should I call you a kid fucker?”
“I-I don’t know, man,” he blurts. “I don’t know why I’m like this.”
“So you just wake up one day and think ‘yeah, I’d like to fuck a kid’ and you do it? You don’t, I don’t know, get some fucking therapy?”
He just stares at me, his mouth slack. He can’t explain it. They never can. They’re sick, but instead of getting help, they act on it.
“How many?” I ask, squeezing his neck tighter and letting the rage slowly seep through me. “Do you even know?”
“Who are you? A-a dad? One of the kids’ parents?”
“Maybe. Or maybe I just have an interest in making sure scum you like you don’t get away with it. You thought your money could save you, right? What’s your plan? Leave the country? Greece? Or maybe Turkey? Who’d you pay off to get bail?”
His brow furrows. “How do you know…?”
“Oh, I know lots of things about you, Michael.” Bored now, I get up and drag Michael to his feet before slamming my fist into his face again. “How many kids, Michael?”
“I don’t know,” he yells. “I never touched those kids.”
“No, you just paid for them to be touched so you could watch. Am I right?”
He doesn’t answer me.
“Is that why your wife left? She knew, didn’t she? She knew something wasn’t right. She had to protect her kids from you.”
“Did she put you up to this?” he hisses. “She’s a fucking whore. All she wanted was my money.”
“Now, now, Michael. Calling your ex hateful names won’t get you out of this.”
“Why are you doing this?” he whines. “Who put you up to this?”
“Here’s the thing, man—when you live your life the way you did, it could be any number of people.
It could be parents, family members, law enforcement, politicians, even the disgusting people you spend time with if they’re afraid you’ll rat on them.
Anyone.” I grab his chin and walk him back until he’s pressed against a wall. “So consider me all of them by proxy.”
“Please,” he whimpers. “I’ve got millions. Just let me go and you’ll never see me again.”
“Oh, I’m already never gonna see you again. No one is.”
I let him go just to watch him scramble for the door in an attempt to get away. I actually laugh, darkly amused. These fuckers always want to live, desperate to save themselves, with no regard for all the pain and suffering they’ve caused.
Before Michael can get the door unbolted, I grab him by the shirt and swing him around, throwing him to the floor. Then I drop to my knees to straddle him before I pummel his face.
While he’s gasping and begging me to let him go, I draw my knife from its sheath and grab his wrist, slowly slicing through his flesh to open a vein. Michael shrieks, so I press the blade to his throat.
“Shh. You deserve this, Michael. Think of all those kids who were so scared, crying for their moms, and you didn’t care. You had your dick out, right?” I spit in his face. “You disgust me.”
I slice his other wrist before continuing my assault on his face. As rage consumes me and the faces of innocent children flash through my mind crying for help, I let it all out on this fucker, breaking ribs and reveling in his agonized groans.
I end my onslaught by cutting his throat from ear to ear, watching his blood gurgle out and pool around his head, the deep red staining the pristine marble floors. He stares at me, wide-eyed and gasping, until his breaths grow shallow and the fight to survive drains out of him.
His last breath rattles, and then he falls silent and motionless. He’s dead, and I’m satisfied that there’s one less sick fucker in this world.
I get to my feet, twisting my neck back and forth, nudging his lifeless body with my foot just to make sure before snapping a few pics on my phone.
“That’s for all the kids you hurt, bastard.”
I head to the kitchen and wash my hands, my phone, and my knife before tucking them away. Then, using a paper towel, I open the back door and slip into the night, silently returning to my car.
As I drive back to Crestvale House, the only thing on my mind is seeing my lovely Rue again.
If he saw me work some more, would he be proud of me for making them suffer the way they deserve?
The thought of him feeling that way about me makes my chest warm.
I want him to know how safe he is with me, and that Leon will get everything that’s coming to him.
Those thoughts carry me until I’m home and walking into the rec room. When I get there, Rue is curled up on the couch, his head resting in Colson’s lap as they watch a movie. Colson is playing with Rue’s hair, and the sight does funny things to my stomach.
I know Rue needs affection, and that Colson definitely doesn’t have eyes for anyone but Specter, but I’m torn between wanting to be everything Rue needs and finding it heartwarming that he’s bonding with Colson like that.
“Hi.”
Rue sits up, his smile blooming brightly. “You’re home.”
“I am.”
“Hey, Carn.” Colson pauses the movie. “We’re on our second movie.”
“I gotta shower and change.”
“How did it go?” Rue asks, kneeling on the couch.
“Do you really want to know?”
He nods. “Yes.”
I approach and plop down in a leather chair across from the sofa. “It was awesome. He had no security and he was completely alone.”
“What did he do wrong? Do you know?”
Nodding, I drag my hand through my unruly hair. “Kid porn. He funded a lot of it.”
Rue scrunches his nose. “Gross.”
“Very. He offered me money, of course. They always do. Anything to save their asses, but there’s no rescue when I’m in the room.”
“What did you do to him?” He glances at my hands. “You beat him up again?”
“At first, just as an appetizer.”
Colson huffs a laugh. “What was the main course?”
“My knife. I made him bleed out. Slashed his neck and his wrists.”
I watch Rue’s face carefully to see his reaction, but he just seems interested. “Did it hurt him?”
“Yes. He was terrified when he realized he was gonna die. That’s my favorite part. When they know they’re dying and that they won’t walk away from what they’ve done. He thought his money was enough to buy him a free pass. It wasn’t.”
“That’s so badass,” Rue whispers, biting his bottom lip. “You made him suffer.”
“I always make them suffer. It’s kind of my thing.”
“What about Specter?” Rue asks Colson. “What’s he like?”
“Terrifying,” Colson says, “but in a different way. He uses a gun, but his jobs usually require more research and hunting.”
“That’s him and Wraith,” I say. “Ghost and Phantom do quick hits, but their targets are easier to find than the ones Specter and Wraith get.”
“And Nimble?” Rue asks.
“His hits are efficient and deadly. He’ll shoot someone in a public place and no one will even know it happened. We should’ve called him Sniper, but we have too many S names as it is.”
Rue chuckles. “And Stealth?”
“They never see it coming with him. Whisper is whatever mood strikes him at the time. He’s creative but subdued. Not like me at all. When I’m done, forensics has a field day.”
“How do you not leave evidence behind?”
I shrug. “I don’t touch a lot of things, but it also depends on the job and who’s behind it.
Sometimes the people who are investigating are influenced by the client who hired us.
Sometimes the person who died is such a piece of shit that no one cares to dig in too deeply. That’s really Shadow’s deal.”
“What does Boone do?”
“He doesn’t take hits. He’s our behind-the-scenes guy; works closely with Shadow and Whisper on new tech and shit like that.”
“So cool,” Rue says.
“I don’t know if that’s the right word.”
He shrugs. “It is to me. I’ve seen some bad stuff and I know I could’ve just as easily been trafficked or assaulted or dead if people like you didn’t exist.”
My stomach twists at the idea of anyone hurting Rue. “I’m gonna shower. Enjoy the rest of the movie.”
Colson chuckles, shutting the TV off. “As if he can focus now you’re home. All he did was talk about you all night.”
“Traitor,” Rue whispers, but he’s smiling. “I’m trying to play it cool.”
“Oh, my bad.” Colson winks. “Enjoy.”
“Is Specter out?” I ask.
Colson nods. “He’ll be home soon. He texted that he was cleaning up.”
Rue stands and bounces over to me, taking my hand and checking out my scraped knuckles. He tsks, shaking his head. “Let’s get you cleaned up, handsome.”
“Whatever you want, precious.” I lean in and kiss his cheek. “You missed me?”
He rolls his eyes but he’s still smiling. “Not at all. I barely thought about you.”
“Is that so?” I scoop him off his feet, grinning as he giggles. Though he’s fairly tall, he’s a lot lighter than me, making it pretty easy for me to carry him up the stairs. “Guess I’ll have to try to be more memorable.”
Rue drapes his arms around my neck. “Pretty sure you’re like a tattoo. Once it’s there, it’s always there.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“It’s the best thing ever.”