Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
ELLIOT
I stare at her text for a moment. I am missing our date, killing Yara Holding, the woman who hurt Juliet Moss almost a year ago. I’ve never cared about who I kill, not like Diora. She has a mission, a goal. I do what I want based on a feeling.
This feeling comes from the henchman stabbing a knife through my Little Crane’s hand.
My Little Crane.
Now she has that scar on the back of her hand, and it’s all I can fucking think about. The two men responsible for the scar are bound to metal chairs in my apartment in downtown Litchfort.
I have surveillance of both the bar Diora is at and the second location, where Yara will die. I need to see her, even if I’m not with her. Breaking into the surveillance cameras of both establishments was easy enough, and putting the cameras on loop was even easier.
Uploading the real footage to my app on my phone was even easier.
“You of all people know we can’t say no to Mrs. Jay,” henchman number one says as the sweat drips from his forehead.
“Yeah, man, come on,” the second one agrees. He’s scared, and that’s when things begin to unclick for me. This fear, this emotion, isn’t genuine. Not coming from them. They are entirely too relaxed in their bonds, and I wonder if Mother warned them. Maybe they think she will come to save them.
If that’s their thought, they wouldn’t have survived much longer in this world.
Mrs. Jay
Elliot, last warning.
Mother’s text comes through on my regular phone. I wonder why she’s switched. That must solidify the opposing teams we are on now. Mother versus me. Totally didn’t see this coming. I roll my eyes as I throw the phone on the table with my computers.
“That was your savior messaging me,” I say as I drag a dining chair in front of them and straddle it to face them.
“Good, did she tell you this is ridiculous and to let us go?” henchman number two asks, raising his brows.
“Yeah,” I say simply, with a lazy shrug. In not so many words, but yeah, that’s what she was getting at. “But I’m not going to.”
“Elliot, man, come on.” Watching them struggle in their restraints is funny. Watching them nearly topple over is even funnier. I chuckle as I rise from my chair and drag them back to their places. The white tarp under them wrinkles under my footsteps and their shaking chairs.
Their eyes track my every move. It’s not nearly as pleasing as Diora’s stare, but my excitement is building, nonetheless. “Let’s play a little game.”
I lay out my choice weapon for tonight’s game—daggers and knuckle dusters—and listen as their tussling becomes louder.
“Whoever survives the longest gets to live,” I say, picking up the dullest one.
“What if we both live?”
“Then we keep going until one of you doesn’t,” I say, throwing my first blade at the one who stabbed their knife in Little Crane’s hand.
Diora Moss is my crane, but I’m not hers. I don’t bring good luck to her; all I’ve done is gotten her hurt.
I clean up the bloody mess; both guys are dead as I planned. Their limp bodies hang from their chairs, with knives of all kinds protruding from their bodies. Rolling my shoulders, I sigh as I take in the sight.
I missed seeing Diora for this. Instead of seeing my Little Crane kill, here I am, punishing these two henchmen for touching what’s mine. Solidifying the target on my crane’s head by angering Mother.
It’s probably better if I don’t see Diora again.
This has become a shit show, and it’s all my fucking fault.
History repeats itself, and once again, I have a choice to make. When I was young, the decision was easy. I killed my foster parents for molesting the girls. It was plain as day why I chose to kill them, but now, twelve years later, the same decision isn’t as easy to make.
Both of my foster parents deserved to die in my eyes. While the father was the one committing the crimes, the mother let him. She looked the other way. She’d remain silent when the kids tried to tell the social workers, and every single person was letting the crime slide.
That was when the urge to kill manifested.
And now I’m in the same fucking predicament as when I was fourteen.
This time, Mother is the foster father and I’m the fucking foster mother, letting her commit the crime. Oliver Longstead would’ve killed me for what I’ve been doing. Except life is not as simple as it was when I was fourteen.
Still, I know I can’t let Mother live. I know this, yet a shower of dread covers my bones and my thoughts run toward the one person I cared about for so long.
My phone rings and Enyo’s name comes up on the screen. I picked the phone up while wrapping the bodies in the tarp, so I can dispose of their bodies.
“Hey, man,” I answer the phone and silence greets me for a beat before the rush of words assault me.
“Hey, we need to talk.”
“Talk about what?” I ask, squatting next to the bodies on the floor.
“About you and Diora.”
“Nothing’s there, so don’t worry about it.” The less we knew about each other’s personal agendas, the better. That’s how it’s always been. We don’t want the other to have information that Mother can beat out of us.
It happened one time, and after that, we vowed to never let it happen again. One of us had a girlfriend. Enyo was in love with Elena Monte, fresh from high school.
He became her stalker for two years, watching her every move.
Every time I called him, he was watching her.
I’ll never forget the first time he asked me to install cameras in her family’s home, so he could “keep her safe”.
I said no, of course, but he convinced me after two months of endless begging.
It was too late by then, though. Mother had caught wind of an emotional flair for someone that's not her. Once she found out, she pulled me into her room. The torture had intention behind it. A purpose behind the beating. It took all my will to resist. She knew I knew about Enyo’s girlfriend and wouldn’t tell her.
She beat me until Enyo found me three days later.
He broke and told her everything. She killed Elena the next day.
We aren’t even allowed to date people who are part of the Society. We aren’t allowed to love anyone outside of Mother, and she used Elena Monte to teach us that lesson.
Regret isn’t something I experience often, but the day Enyo found her body in her bedroom, with a knife wound in her neck and chloroform residue on her check, I felt it.
If I’d put the damn camera in her room, maybe he would’ve been able to save her. Maybe if I forced him to stay away from Elena, he wouldn’t have gone through the depression he did.
I don’t like to play what-if games. In this world, there is no point. But from then on, I vowed to protect him. I’m a protector, and I’ll protect Enyo, mentally and physically, for the rest of my life.
Her death put him in a depression for two years, and I’d rather see him dead than like that ever again.
“Let’s skip the denial and think of a game plan to protect her against Mother.”
“No, Enyo—” I begin to say. He can’t get involved. He knows this, so what’s changed?
“I know this is different than Elena. Diora has killer instincts, but Mother will beat her if we don’t have a plan.”
“A plan for what?” I ask, playing along with his game. There is only one plan that would save Diora. Save me. And that’s—
“We have to kill her.”
“What? Kill who, Enyo?” I ask, dropping the knife I pulled from the wood floor. Enyo doesn’t want to kill Mother. He can’t.
“Mother. We have to kill Mother. History will not repeat itself, Brother. Another love will not die at the hands of her jealousy. We deserve more.”
“I—” If he knew the truth, would he still want to kill her? If he knew she was his birth mother.
Fuck.
Sighing, I sit down at my desk. I should tell him. No, I can’t. I shouldn’t. Maybe I can die with this secret and he’ll never have to know.
“We’re not waiting this time. She will not hurt us anymore.”
“Is there someone else?” I ask as my brows furrow. He may be fighting for Diora, maybe for me, but there’s something more going on. There has to be. Killing Mother is not a light thought. As much as I hate the woman, she… she raised us when no one else would. I—We can’t pretend she didn’t.
“No.” His answer comes too fast and snappy. I snort as his side goes quiet. He could never lie to me for some reason, though I know the man knows how to lie.
“Who?” I ask, trying to think of anyone he’s interacted with in the last six months.
“This is about you, lover boy. We need a game plan.” He spins the story and I could laugh. Enyo’s hiding someone again. That’s why he’s ready to take down Mother suddenly.
This someone, he’s willing to kill for. When this man is ready to kill the one person who saved him from a life in the system, she must have dug her claws so deep he can’t move without her ripping his skin.
He didn’t even want to kill Mother after she killed Elena Monte. Who is this mystery woman?
He’s as trapped as I am.
“Don’t worry about it. I got Diora,” I say, knowing the words are a lie. I’m out of control with Diora. She holds too much meaning to me. I’m damn near ready to do anything for her.
Anything but betray my brother.
“No, Elliot. Mother is already working on a plan.” His words land like bullets in my chest. Is it too late? Is it too late to save her?
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Mother already knows. She wants to get rid of her.”
“When?”
“She wouldn’t say.”
And there’s another decision I have to make. One I’ve dreaded making since the moment I laid eyes on Diora Moss. One that may not even have a “correct” choice.
To distance myself from Diora.
Or to keep her close.
All in the name of keeping her alive.
A pounding sounds at my door, and I jump. Twisting my chair to face my desk, I click on the security footage of the apartment.
I see her. Little Crane. Banging on my door.
“Open the door, Elliot.” I hear her voice, but I remain frozen in my seat. I can’t… I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.
“Enyo, how much… how much time do you think I have left?” I ask with a shaken voice I wish I could hide. As a killer, I should have my fear indicators in check. No one should be able to read me better than I can read myself and yet, I’m dissolving under the pressure that is love.
“Days.”
“How do I… How can I keep her alive?”
“Elliot!” her voice yells, and there’s an edge of desperation. The same edge ringing in my ears.
“Are you asking me for advice? Wow, I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Enyo, be serious for two damn seconds,” I snap.
“I already fucking told you, we have to kill Mother.”
“What if I stayed away from Diora, made her seem unimportant to me?”
“That’s what got Elena killed. Don’t be stupid,” he whispers, and that’s when I shoot up from my chair. I land my hand on the door handle, and I’m about to open it when Enyo’s voice comes back through.
“What if I can’t protect her?”
“You can’t keep playing the defense, Elliot. It’s about time you come on the offense,” Enyo says, trying to be… encouraging?
“We kill Mother first. Then we get the girl.”
“Then we get the girl,” he confirms.
I hear her sobs from the other side of the door, but Enyo is right. I have to deal with Mother first. That will be the only way to protect her. Once we deal with Mother, I can be with her. Freely. Undoubtedly. Hers.
“I have to go. Meet me at the headquarters in thirty minutes. I have something I need to tell you. Off the phone,” I say and hang up.
I will not fail her.
I will not fail her.
I can’t.
The pounding on my door gets quieter and so does her hoarse voice. It takes everything not to whip open the door and bring her into my arms. But if I do, I’ll trap her in here, and knowing Diora, she wouldn’t stay put. I have one day to make my move and kill Mother.
I only hope Enyo will forgive me.