Arik
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Istood toward the back of the SUV, watching as Sam worked diligently.
Claire winced in pain as Sam placed new stitches along her scalp, using a bottle of saline solution to clean the area as he worked.
I could feel her pain, and it was excruciating.
The darker part of me wanted to grab Sam by the neck and slam his body into the side of the SUV until the windows broke against his skull.
But the better part of me knew that he was helping Claire, even if that help did cause her pain.
I pulled myself away from the scene, unsure what part of me would take control if I stood there any longer.
I walked to the dark edge of the cliff and pulled myself atop the boulders.
My head dropped to look down upon the waves that crashed into the rocks below.
There lay Antonio’s mangled body. I climbed down the rocks with precision, my fingers digging into the hard stone creating cracks and divots to grasp.
My feet rested against the slick rocks as I grabbed Antonio’s arm, pulling it upward as I felt it dislocated from the shoulder.
With ease, I scaled the cliff once more, this time with my victim.
Out of every kill, this one I regret the least.
I threw his body across the boulders and onto the dirt above, hearing the crack of his skull as it slammed into the rocks that surrounded the fire pit.
I pulled myself up the final few feet of rock as I heard footsteps approaching quickly.
As my feet dug into the earth, my men approached Antonio’s mangled body, their faces expressionless.
They had seen many dead bodies in their service to me—this one was no different.
His lifeless open eyes were still frozen with the fearful expression from when his neck was ripped open, bloodied tissue bursting at the seams.
The men laid out a black tarp next to Antonio’s body and used their heavy boots to kick him onto the sheet before wrapping him.
They took turns tying thick rope around the stiff tarp until all that was left was a tight cocoon.
I heard them count to three, lifting his body and proceeding to carry it to the empty SUV.
I walked behind them, watching in satisfaction as a smile crept across my face.
I continued to walk past as they hoisted the body into the trunk.
“Almost done,” Sam stated as he caught my dark figure approaching out of the corner of his eye.
The light of the trunk illuminated Claire as she sat, her face in her hands, breathing through the pain. I approached her and set my hand on her thigh until it glided down to feel the cuts that dug into her knee.
I should have kept him alive and tortured him until his heart gave out.
Claire’s hand reached for mine as Sam gave her head wound a final rinse, dabbing it with a white cotton cloth that was now stained with her blood like a morbid tie-dye.
“Now, for the knees…” Sam sighed as he jumped from the trunk onto the ground next to me.
“I’ve got that,” I said, my tone low as Claire’s eyes looked up at me. Her eyes were filled with fear and shame. By now it was easy to read her and know exactly what she was thinking.
“I’m not mad that you snuck out,” I said as I picked up the saline bottle and sprayed the liquid onto her knees as my hand held the fresh white cotton cloth below to soak up the excess.
“I’m more upset with myself that I made you feel like you needed to.”
Claire’s eyes shot up to me, she looked exhausted. Beautifully broken—and I wanted to repair her.
“I was just trying to do my job,” she replied as her gaze turned to her knees.
My gloved fingers glided thick antibacterial ointment across the cuts as I replied, “I understand…completely.”
Claire nodded at me and smiled gently. “Why did you lie to me?”
“What exactly did I lie about?” I questioned, my brow lowering with curiosity.
“You own the winery…. He said you own it.” She looked into my eyes, hurt flowing through her expression.
“I did not lie. I just did not tell you,” I replied stoically as I wound fabric bandages across her knees.
“Omission is a lie,” she muttered as her eyes lowered.
“It was not worth mentioning…”
I paused to let out a deep exhale as I scanned her arms for injuries. Only plum-colored bruises scattered across her cold arms. “I didn’t want more information to overwhelm our…situation.”
“So…you were behind Antonio not coming to dinner?” she asked, her eyes focused on mine as she investigated me deeply, looking for the truth.
“Yes…I told him not to go,” I replied, the slighting twinge of regret coming through in my voice.
“You staged everything. For days I felt like I failed. I fixated on my failure, and the whole time…” she said as anger seeped into her voice.
My eyes closed as I pressed my hand to my brow, feeling both regret and irritation. “I fucked up, Claire. Is that what you want to hear?”
Claire’s wide eyes stared up at me as she struggled to respond. “And the road? The note on my account? The suite? Was that your handy work?”
“Yes. It was,” I said calmly as I extended my hand to her.
She stared at my open hand blankly before pushing herself off the trunk, wincing as her feet hit the ground. She grasped the side of the SUV and hobbled to the door. I ran around her to grab the door handle only to feel her hand slap against mine.
“Get. The fuck. Away from me,” she said, her voice was low and certain.
I stepped back, feeling my heart shatter like glass rolling through my chest. I struggled to find the words, knowing that I could possibly make the situation worse.
Claire swung the door open, then she hoisted herself in the seat. I grabbed the metal in my hand as she pulled the door to a close. I flung the door open and looked at her as her face was twisted with anger, fear, and pain.
“Do you not understand? I fucking love you, Claire!” I screamed, rage and desperation burning in my chest.
Claire stared back, her expression cold like ice.
I lunged forward toward her. “God gasps at my love for you, do you realize that?” My hands gripped her shoulders. “It far supersedes anything that he created, Claire.” My voice broke as my eyes filled with sorrow.
She stared blankly until her eyes filled with tears. My grasp released from her shoulders as my breathing slowed, and I searched her eyes for acceptance, forgiveness…anything.
She spoke, slow and calm. “Get in the other car, Arik.”
I backed up from the door slowly; my hands balled into fits as Claire pulled the door shut. My reflection stared back at me from the dark window as the moonlight illuminated my face. There was no hiding the mixture of rage and remorse that cut through my expression.
I stood there unable to move as the SUV slowly backed up before cutting tightly to the road and driving away. The red taillights streaked through the cloud of dust that rose from back tires as the SUV disappeared in the distance behind rows of overgrown trees.
“Coming, boss?” Sam called out to me from the driver’s window of the remaining SUV.
I turned around, feeling the space between Claire and me expand. My chest heaved with a sharp pain that radiated in the center and slowly expanded into my neck and shoulders.
“Let’s go,” I demanded as I swung open the door, sat down, and slammed it closed with fury.
I fought the thoughts that raged in my mind as we drove silently back to the hotel.
My chest was filled with anger. Her distress was entirely my doing.
I deserved every bit of her venom. But Claire’s venom did not keep me alive—it killed me.
Up ahead, I watched the red taillights of Claire’s SUV.
I was too far to feel her, though I could still feel her presence wrapped around me.
I wondered what was happening in the back seat.
Was she crying? Was she angry? What was going through her mind?
I understood her anger, but I hoped it would soon pass.
I had prayed day after day that her feelings for me would slowly grow.
That our love would blossom, and she would accept her fate.
There had been glimmers, glimmers of hope. In those moments, our eyes locked, and I could see the gold dancing. But Claire was complicated, much more so than I originally understood. There were parts of her I did not yet understand, and parts of her that I did not yet know even existed.
Claire’s SUV turned onto the road that led to the hotel, the red lights blurring as the driver sped up the drive with haste.
As my SUV did the same, I watched Claire’s pull to a stop.
She quickly got out of the back and disappeared into the hotel without pause.
She did not turn back to look at me, and she did not wait.
Her anger was deep, and I could feel it in flashes as I got closer to the hotel.
The burning of our distance grew, and the heat of her anger subsided as Sam pulled past the hotel and proceeded toward the winery.
We drove slowly, keeping the sound and dust down as we drove past the guest rooms and toward the vines.
Pitch black darkness engulfed the hills, giving the impression that the world ended, and if you got too close you would fall over the edge.
Eerie silence surrounded us as Sam and I pulled to a stop and got out of the car, quietly closing the doors behind us.
A long stretch of road separated the field from the vines, keeping a safe distance of a few hundred yards between them.
Tall stacks of dead vines, wood, and leaves stood in the moonlight, their jagged edges casting cruel shadows across the road.
Sam’s attention turned to me. “Why not just leave him in the sea?”
My expression darkened as I looked at the moonlight illuminating the scenery around us, “Because I have a feeling his other victims are at rest there,” I paused, letting the wave of anger wash across me. “He does not deserve to decay in their resting place.”
Wind blew against my exposed skin, drying the last of the sea water that clung to my body. “Two birds, one stone,” I murmured to Sam as we walked around to the back of the SUV.
As Sam opened the trunk, I latched onto the thick ropes that kept the tarp taut against Antonio’s corpse. I pulled him out, intentionally dropping his rigor-filled body onto the hardened earth.
“Oops.” I chuckled before swiftly kicking my foot into his bloated side. The sound of his ribs breaking sliced through the silence of the night.
Sam muttered, “Sir.” His voice was weak and unsure. I could feel him, his disgust at the situation.
“What, Sam!” I screamed, quickly realizing my mistake as my screams echoed through the rows of vines that led from the field and down toward the hotel.
“Fuck,” I muttered.
Sam turned away from me, walking back to the driver’s seat and waiting patiently.
I stared down at the blue tarp once again.
Wrapped inside was the man who tried to kill Claire.
The man who killed Jennifer. The man who probably killed two other women and who knows how many others.
This man hunted women. He turned my home—this sacred place I was tasked with protecting—into his hunting ground. He had slipped right under me.
I blamed myself for those deaths. I wondered how they had gotten past me without feeling them. But they were not premeditated. There had been no emotions for me to follow. They were acts of anger, sudden and uncontrollable anger.
I really should have tortured this motherfucker.
I thought of Claire. How she kicked and clawed as Antonio’s body sat upon hers. The fear and despair that radiated from her body as she fought him. The sound of her cries. Her closed eyes were awaiting death as I pushed Antonio into the sea.
I grunted as I stomped my heel into his head until I felt the hard earth below.
The roundness of the tarp where his skull used to be was now flat, and blood and brain matter began to seep out of the seams of the tarp.
I grasped the opposite end, taking the rope into my fist as I threw the corpse onto the top of the heap of vines.
The dry vines let out a crunch as Antonio’s body sunk into them, falling a few feet into the stack as the vines gave way under his weight.
I turned my attention back to the SUV and quickly grabbed the metal can of lighter fluid and book of matches. “Leave, Sam,” I demanded.
As I walked toward the vines, I heard the car door open, close, and the low rumble of the SUV as it pulled slowly down the dirt road. The sounds disappeared into the night as Sam began the mile long journey back to the hotel.
Moonlight lit my path as I circled the vines, dousing the base with the gas to ensure the lattice stack was turned to ash by the time the fire was out. I slowly backed away, covering the blood and bodily fluids that had seeped out onto the dirt when I threw his body onto the top.
I held the flame between my fingers, watching it dance in the wind.
In an instant, I flicked the match onto the line of gasoline that led to the makeshift pyre—watching as the ground around the fluid lit up and flames traveled toward the body.
Moments later, it was engulfed in hot flames that quickly worked their way up to the top.
Smoke and embers danced in the wind as the silence that once filled the air was now filled with the sounds of the crackling and breaking of the vines and wood.
I stood silently as the heat of the flames caressed my skin.
A deep satisfaction was growing inside of me, tinged with anger and despair as I thought of Claire’s anger.
The flames reminded me of her; unpredictable yet completely inescapable.
Once the heap collapsed, I turned toward the hotel and began my walk. I thought of Claire again, my mind racing as I thought of every way I could potentially repair our relationship. With each step I took, I felt more of her anger and disappointment. She was seething.
And still, I walked toward her, knowing I had already lost.