Chapter Thirteen #2
“Well, I don’t want to be seen burying a body, obviously, silly goose.” I chuckle as he looks at me with dawning appreciation.
“Fuck, I love you.”
I grin at him before turning to Porter, who finally has his breathing under control.
“You promised.”
“And I’ll keep my promise. I’ll let you leave here alive. I won’t let Austin kill you, and you’ll still be alive when I leave you. That was everything, right?”
“I think so,” Austin agrees.
“Oh, good. Come along then. Time to go.”
Porter makes a move to jump Austin, but I suck the air out of his lungs again. I huff as he drops to the floor. “Austin, can you carry him to the truck? I want to drop him off before we go eat.”
I give Porter his air once more, but he scrambles back. “I’ll walk. I’ll walk.”
“Come along then, I don’t have all day.”
The three of us exit the tunnel in silence, me leading, Porter in the middle, and Austin bringing up the rear, keeping an eye on my dad, just in case. When we make it outside, I take a deep breath of fresh air. It takes me a minute for my eyes to adjust. When they do, I hear Austin growl.
“Do it. I dare you. I’m not Calliope. I don’t give a flying fuck about keeping my word to anyone but her.”
I hear the click of a gun as I turn and find Porter’s arm outstretched as if he were reaching for me. Austin has the weapon he let me use pointed at the back of his head.
“How many guns does this man carry?” I mutter to myself as I move closer. “Honestly, Porter, you had one job. Walk to the fucking truck.”
I take his air, and when he claws at his throat, I let him breathe again. After he’s filled his lungs, I take his air away again. “I suggest you move before I lose my concentration and you end up having a stroke.”
Clearly reading that I mean business, Porter starts walking. He passes me, and we follow behind. As he’s pissed me off, I keep taking his air and forcing it back into him. By the time we reach Austin’s truck, Porter can barely stand.
Austin yanks the door open and grabs him from where he’s slumped over the hood. “Ooh, I like what you did with his eyes.”
I look over at Porter to see what Austin is talking about. Burst blood vessels have turned the whites of his eyes red. “Whoops.” I shrug carelessly as I climb into the back so I can sit behind Porter.
Austin shoves him in before looking at me over his shoulder. “You sure about this? I can make him disappear with no blowback on you.”
“That’s sweet, but I’m sure.”
He nods and starts up the truck, heading to the cemetery. I keep messing with Porter’s breathing, just because I can. There is something soothing about the smell of his terror.
By the time we pull up to the gates, Porter is leaning against the window, his head rolling listlessly.
Austin jumps out and walks around to get the door for me.
I get out and head over to the iron gates.
I grab the lock and hold it tightly as I think of those sparks joining as one.
They heat my hand, and though my brain knows it’s getting hot, I don’t feel any pain.
It’s an odd sensation, one that works in my favor.
The lock melts in my hand. I grin, pulling it free from the chain before pushing the gate open.
“I didn’t know you could do that. You’re handier to have around than a Swiss army knife.”
“I wouldn’t have thought of it either, but I accidentally melted Derek’s engine using a similar technique.”
I don’t mention the nosebleed or the headache because that will worry him.
I’ve been growing in strength since then, listening to my body, learning when to push and when to pull back.
I’ve also found that if I’m in direct contact with an object or person, my powers are stronger and drain me far less than when I’m using them from a distance.
“I’ll walk on up. You follow me in the truck.”
“You got it,” he says, kissing my temple and heading back.
I walk through the gates and head up the pathway as the car idles slowly behind me.
I look around, my eyes falling on the space where Dawn will be laid to rest tomorrow.
It’s about as far away from my dad’s grave as I could get.
I bought all the plots around it so when Hannah’s time comes, she can be buried beside her mother, along with her partner and any children she may have.
It seems only fair that if I get her in life, Dawn should get her back in death.
That way, Hannah always has one of us to look over her.
The truck stops behind me. It’s as far as it can go, but I keep walking.
Austin can handle this part. I move down the aisle to the side of the cemetery that’s largely hidden by the trees, and wonder if he picked this place for a reason?
Maybe it was just because it’s out of the way, and he hoped that people would forget about him.
Of course, that was a fool’s mistake. The moment he made me a martyr, Martin Hart went down in the history books, and nothing Mark Porter did would ever change that.
He was the king of his castle before death, and well, his murder just immortalized him.
I move up to the grave I stood beside not long ago with Shepard and feel a full-circle moment coming on.
The casket sits empty, the bags of grain taken away as evidence.
The mound of dirt is piled neatly on the other side, and I wonder what the protocol is here.
I probably should have asked Shepard, but I suppose it’s too late now.
I bend down, swing the casket lid wide, and step back as Austin comes up the slope with Porter thrown over his shoulder.
I point to the pine box. “You can put him down now, Austin.”
“My pleasure.” He swings him off his shoulder, sending him crashing down into the casket, ripping a loud groan from Porter.
“Well. I guess this is where we part ways.”
Porter opens his eyes, looking disoriented. His pallor is sickly, and I can see the pulse in his neck thundering wildly.
“What’s happening? You said you would leave me alive.”
“I did. Though not for your benefit. For Dawn’s.
See, the last thing that went through her head was the thought of her precious daughter.
Fear that she might end up in your clutches, sadness that she might not remember her, heartbreak at all the tiny moments she’ll miss out on.
Killing you would be too merciful. I want your last moments to be filled with fear and despair, too.
It’s only fair. So I brought you here to Martin Hart’s grave.
It’s poetic, right? Besides, who’s going to look for you here? ”
I pull some of the air from his lungs, not enough to suffocate him, but enough for his chest to feel tight and for screaming to be almost impossible.
“There, that should do it.” I grab the lid and hold it steady as I stare down at the man who should have protected me. I glare at him with every ounce of hate he has earned in this lifetime.
“I hope you rot in hell.” I slam the casket lid down and take a deep, steadying breath.
I close my eyes as the air moves around me and the casket lifts off the ground.
It’s not by much, but it’s enough. I feel the strain, my temples sweating from the pressure.
I move the coffin over the hole and slowly lower it inside.
I sway on my feet once I’m done, and Austin reaches out to steady me.
“Fuck, you okay?”
“Yeah, just give me a second, and I’ll get the dirt too.”
“Screw that, I’ve got the dirt. Wait here.”
He jogs off, returning with a shovel.
“Do I even want to know why you carry a shovel in your truck?”
“In case we get snow.”
“And when was the last time Crowhurst got snow?”
“About a hundred years ago.” He winks before he starts scooping the dirt and tossing it on top of the coffin.
I can feel Porter thrashing around and fighting, murmuring for help, but I’m still applying enough pressure to the top of the casket to keep the lid closed. And the more he freaks out, the more oxygen he uses. Hell, at this rate, he’ll be dead before we even leave the cemetery.
With my legs shaking, I walk over to the small stone bench tucked under the oak tree and watch Austin work.
He stops for a moment, his eyes moving to me to make sure I’m okay before he rolls up his sleeves and continues.
I don’t know what it is about rolled-up sleeves and muscular forearms on a man, but there is something inexplicably sexy about it.
I look around, keeping my eye out even though I know the cemetery is empty. Nobody breaks into a cemetery except for kids, and with the shooting fresh in everyone’s mind, not even they’ll be feeling brave enough.
It’s beautiful here. Part of me feels conflicted about that.
I want Dawn’s final resting place to be pretty and peaceful, but I’d rather my father be laid to rest near a sewage plant or something.
Still, I try not to think about that and focus on the silver lining instead.
Like how turned on I’m getting watching Austin bury my father.
When he’s done, he turns to look at me before crooking his finger. I bite my lip as I get up and walk toward him. “All done?” I ask.
“Almost. There is just one thing left to do here.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“You.”