Chapter 34
Tyler
C olombine? As in the Colombine family, who were my rivals back in the day? Ryan did a pretty good job, although the fucker isn't dead yet. Still, there's not much I'm going to get out of him now, with blood gushing from his neck and him puffing on his last breath.
Damn it, my fault.
Now I kinda wished Ryan hadn't stabbed him...yet. I wanted to know what business he had getting involved with an old drunk, kidnapping and blackmailing in North Carolina of all places, for fifty-million dollars, when he was from one of the richest and most infamous crime families.
I'd especially liked to know what he was doing here, in front of me, when I left New York to get away from this shit. Was he seeking me out or was this pure coincidence? Regardless of what it was that led him here, he's dead now. And the old man, disgusting enough to kidnap his own daughter, was already as good as dead getting into bed with a Colombine.
Speaking of, the old fucker's eyes are bloodshot. Ryan was timid when he stabbed him in the face. So he's very much alive and aware as he watches Carter go night-night. He has picked up on the fact that none of us had been playing about killing them. His tears are hidden in the blood leaking from his face.
"Ouch, that's gotta hurt." I regarded him, distracting myself from the questions about Carter swimming around in my head.
The plan was to dump the bodies in the lake and have them 'mysteriously' wash up six months later, to give the poor traumatized women some closure. But with a Colombine involved, that body is going to have to stay hidden in that lake. It can never resurface or be traced back to him. He'd be able to outsmart the police, but not the mob. All they would need to trace it back to me is my location and our history.
"Who's up next?" I turned my gaze toward the ground for the bloodied knife Ryan dropped. I found it pressed up against my neck as Ethan attacked.
Okay, swift. Note to self: Do not lose myself in my thoughts around these men.
"What's the plan here, Ethan?" I rasped as he craned my neck upward with his free hand. "I'm not going to let you guys just walk away, so are you going to kill me? Really? For what? To save these guys? Six of one, half dozen of the other. I'm not your enemy here, they are."
He shoved me away at that.
"Do what your gut is telling you Ethan. Am I really the one you're mad at, or is it them?" I rubbed my throat, impressed when I found that he'd nicked me. "I'm just helping you guys do what you really want to do."
"You're sick." Eric spat.
"Maybe." I nodded. "But you know I'm right."
"We're not murderers." Matt argued.
"Aren't you?" I retorted. "Tell that to Ryan." I scoffed at the now very dead Carter.
"You did that. You made him do that!" Matt's face was so red, he was on the verge of tears. Like a little baby. Aw, bless.
"Did I?" I wouldn't remind them that they all willingly followed me here, knowing my intentions.
They would've been just as guilty anyway, whether or not they stuck the knife in.
"Okay, let's do this then. You're down to two choices. Little hint? They both involve murder. I know when I'm outnumbered. You can all easily overpower me. You could try to beat me up. I've taken on bigger and stronger men than you, and won. So you could give it your best shot. See if you're lucky.
"If I'm not dead, you're going to wish you had killed me, because I will find you, no matter how far you run, whether or not I'm behind bars. I'm not bluffing. So, again, we're back to the two choices. Kill me, run free. Then it defeats the purpose, doesn't it? Wouldn't you rather save that energy for your real enemies? Sorry. Enemy. I guess there are three options, you could kill us both, but it still comes down to murder. The thing you're trying to avoid is unavoidable. So, it's up to you. Me or the man who tormented your woman her whole life? Whose blood would you rather stain your hands with?"
"She'll hate me." Ethan shook, his voice broke.
"She won't find out. I promise. There is one silver lining. All I'm asking you to do is stick the knife in. You don't have to be an overachiever like Ryan over there and deliver the death blow. Each of you stick the knife in, I'll take care of the rest. The other option is full-on murder. Because if I survive, none of you stand a chance."
Ethan exhaled and turned toward me. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Oh, I love a good thriller." My eyes shifted between the knife and the old crock of shit.
He took the only option he'd had all along.
Surrendering to helplessness, he walked over to Lily's dad. He gained momentum from a shared moment of eye contact. From experience, I deduced that he was replaying every story Lily had told him about this man, and if that wasn't bad enough, the most recent trauma he had inflicted on her. He took his encouragement from those thoughts and plunged the knife into his shoulder. He winced at first, but when the old skinny rat shrieked in pain, I spotted a slight smirk of satisfaction as he walked away.
One by one, Eric and Matt grabbed the knife, shut their eyes, and got it over with. I delivered the final deadly blow, fucking his heart with the knife, twisting it until his pants were no more. Adrenaline coursed through me and the sweet metallic scent washed over me.
Selfish, they all left me to do the heavy lifting.
"Great, thanks for your help guys!" I threw over my shoulder as they hurried back to the car.
An hour and two dead bodies in the trunk of the old jalopy later, I sat in the driver's seat.
"No hard feelings, right guys?" I sighed.
Groaning when I looked down to see all the blood on my clothes, I started the car.
"We're gonna have to dump the clothes too. Find something else to wear. Don't worry. I'll figure it out," I assured them.
After disposing of the bodies in the lake and the car at a junkyard where they didn't ask questions, as long as there was money involved, we paid someone to get us a change of clothes before taking a cab.
Back at the guys' Airbnb where they could get changed, before heading back to the Women's Shelter, I confessed, "You know I wasn't actually going to kill you, right?"
I was like a man pleading at the door of his lover as they stopped at the door to scowl at me.
"I mean it." I did. When I gave up the mob life, I lost a brotherhood.
But, it was worth it for Ann-Marie. Meeting them, however, and being involved in this, had reawakened that desire to connect with people who could relate to my sick impulses. They might not be able to relate, but we were still bonded by this dark secret now; we were all hiding something from the women we loved. And I wasn't so alone in that department. Misery loves company, I guess.
"You fucking cut me!" Ryan gestured to his neck.
"Ah, what's a few cuts and bruises between friends." I waved him off.
"From now on, just stay out of our way and we'll stay out of yours, okay?" Ryan's shoulders were rounded and dragging forward.
He turned his back to me.
He hates me. Ouch. How interesting...
Eric scoffed. "Yeah. As if it's that easy." He lowered his voice to a whisper, looking around us before speaking to me. "You're going to hold this over our heads from now on, aren't you? Use it for blackmail."
I snickered. These men had watched too many crime shows. Okay, fine, it did happen in real life.
Before Ethan could peel my skin off my face, I shook my head. "No, honestly. It's on the house. Consider it a favor to my wife's best friend."
Matt wheeled around, eyes wide and blazing.
Okay, I guess I couldn't bring Lily into this.
"I was never going to actually hurt you," I repeated. "I just needed to find a way to get you to do what I knew you all wanted to do, deep down." With that, I hurried from their doorstep and back to my place for a quick change, because my wife was waiting for me, and I had something to give her.