86. Deacon
Chapter 86
Deacon
Dinah knew what was going to happen and didn’t even question when I requested that there be no way for Henri to know I was missing. Before allowing Finn and Lena to give me a ride home, I give her hand a soft squeeze, reassuring her, even on a subconscious level, that I’ll return.
Hours later, after the normal dinnertime, when people start thinking about what to watch on television for the night, the pain of loss begins to fade. And the phrase seeing red becomes meaningful.
Nathan is a dead man. Pacing my room, I’m stuck debating the best way to kill him. Poison isn’t brutal enough. Straight up stabbing leaves too much evidence. Gunshot is too quick, too traceable... kinda. Ezra has a point about the car. It’s easy enough. But it’s not satisfying.
It’s all my fault. The guilt hammers a spike into my heart. If I had just pulled my ass out of bed. No, before that, if I had a single thought about the risk of pregnancy rather than the amazing fucking sex, we wouldn’t have been in this mess to begin with.
Or if I had stolen someone else’s pills. I could have... Could have what? Stolen Dinah’s pills and put her in this mess? That was my only other option.
I should have done something for her. Instead, I was selfish. I wanted to play perfect mate and have just one heat with her. It was selfish of me to put her in danger, and she’s the one who paid for it.
You let him hurt our mate because you didn’t kill him early enough. My wolf snarls at me like I’m not already having those same fucking thoughts.
I don’t want Nathan to go down easy. I want to watch. It’s not like killing the punk Brayden, who went quietly, heart attack, a potassium overdose that will never be caught. It’s metabolized and long gone. But it would be the least traceable. It would be the safest bet for getting in and out without getting caught.
Cade would be pissed if I got caught. He literally just settled shit for Ansel.
Sure, he made it so that if a human has an issue with a wolf, it goes to our laws to be dealt with, or if I’m arrested by a human police system, it would go back to our people. If I killed Nathan and was caught, well, the new laws would at least allow Ansel to bail me out and put me down. Fuck could just end it all efficiently.
Death could be quick.
How many people is too many people close to us dying of a heart attack before it’s suspicious? Potassium is easy to get. Untraceable. No. Can’t make this at all traceable.
Killing Nathan isn’t like the wolves I hunted down who escaped the heartlessness of Dinah’s wolf. The ones who Cade, Ansel, and Judah let live.
It’s not like Ersilia and Gerad. Ansel was brutal in ending them, tearing the bodies to pieces.
No, this is a different kind of personal. This isn’t for someone else. I’ve killed to protect my family, at all costs. But this is for me. It’s for Henri. It’s so we can stop the pain of injustice.
I don’t believe in happy life after death. You don’t walk around with other people’s ghosts and believe that in death, you could be with your loved ones.
“Deacon! Just the man I was looking for.” An ancestor walks through my bedroom wall and right into my space.
Zachariah was an awful human being in life, and in death, I think he’s worse.
“Go the fuck away.” My patience is wearing thin. I can’t handle dealing with anyone else’s bullshit today.
I’d hoped when we moved from the country house in Wisconsin to the house in Minnesota, he wouldn’t have followed. But maybe it’s the antique Harley sitting down in the garage, half taken apart, that he’s somehow anchored to, despite the fact he’s never been a biker. Fuck, maybe it’s one of Cade’s classic cars.
Focus, Deacon. I shake my head, ignoring Zachariah as he goes on and on and on about something.
“I’m just saying if you’re going to kill that fucker, I’d be glad to help.” Zachariah’s words stop me from pacing.
“How? You’re dead, remember?” I look at the bottle of pills on my desk and then to him.
I’ve been trying to stay sober, but this interruption is not helping me get my thinking done.
“Well, not to self-incriminate, but I do know a thing or two about framing someone for embezzlement.” Zachariah adds another layer to the fucked-up life he led.
It’s not a bad idea, but embezzlement wouldn’t exactly land him in jail for life. But Finn’s got people in prisons. Finn has lots of people in prisons.
Fucking kill him. My wolf begs for bloodshed. You let him hurt our mate. We will be the one to kill him.
“Appreciate the offer, now fuck off,” I growl at Zachariah.
My wolf banishes him away from me. The control is nice to have.
Through my bedroom window, daylight is breaking.
I don’t have a plan. But he’s dying tonight, before Henri even has a chance to know I was gone.
I’ve waited too long as it is. He should have been cold and dead long before now.
I grab my boots without the tread on the bottom and the keys to the sport bike, and head down the stairs.
Finn is standing at the bottom of the steps, keys in hand, with a mischievous smirk. “Let’s go.”
“No.” I try to argue with him, hitting right where it’s going to hurt him most. “Lena needs you.”
He snorts. “You’re planning on getting caught?”
I don’t answer.
Finn smirks. “Didn’t think so. Let’s go.”
His shoes are already on, and he grabs a plain black jacket that covers his chest holster.
“I’m guessing you’ve a plan?” I climb into the black SUV, wishing I was taking the bike I have keys for, but this might be more necessary.
“The bunnies came up with an excellent idea back when we first talked,” he informs me. “I’ve been hanging on to it for you. Repayment.”
“I didn’t kill him for you.” I shake my head. “Neither of you owe me anything.”
“We’re family, Deacon,” Finn reminds me. “I’ve killed for a lot less for my family.”
I accept his help, and a feeling hits me. Something other than hollow anger. I don’t know what it is, and it’s unsettling.
“Want to walk me through it?” I try to distract myself from it as Finn drives us down the driveway and we’re flagged through the front gates.
“Breaking and entering.” Finn gives me the first bit—the obvious way into the house. “It’s suicide by remorse. You can have your pick on deaths.”
“I was seen threatening him,” I remind Finn. “What if they look into it too far?”
“They won’t,” Finn assures me. “County coroner is in his early sixties and has a gambling problem. He and I had a nice chat. His wife wants to retire, but they’re never going to be able to at the rate he loses money to bookies. I’ve gotten his debt wiped with the bookies, blocked them all from ever letting him place another bet, blacklisted him at every casino in the state. His wife got a hefty raise at the little distribution company she works at. In three years when they retire, an estranged relative is going to die and leave them a hefty sum of money.”
“If there is a change of heart and he doesn’t rule it suicide? Or the family pushes for a second opinion?” I start looking for loopholes in his plan.
“If there’s a change of heart, well, debt of that size can just as easily be doubled with interest.” Finn pauses, and an uncharacteristic smile teases his lips. “It also seems that the little clinic Nathan’s been seen at has located some of his backdated medical records, stating how deeply disturbed he was. He’s had suicidal ideations for the last two years. Punctuated by his mistreatment of Henri.”
“What if they find an inconsistency with the way he died? Bullet not lining up, stool not right, strangulation versus breaking the hyoid?” I look for other reasons.
“Deacon,” Finn scolds. “Not my first time.”
Finn’s quiet resolve is comforting. It’s no wonder Lena says he’s such a pain in her ass. He’s thought of everything .
“Neighbors? What if someone sees us?” I think of the next thing.
Finn shakes his head. “It seems they’ve all had to go in to work early today for various meetings. Paid, of course, at double time.”
“You’re so sure no one is going to rat us out,” I growl.
“Money talks.” Finn assures me, settling into the drive. “Seeing the pictures of what he did to Henri talked louder.”
A pit sinks in my stomach. I want to be mad at him for showing anyone what happened to Henri. For violating what happened to her and letting her be vulnerable to someone else. But he’s not wrong about what that sort of image does to people. Especially when it’s someone as sweet as she is.
“How the fuck did you set this up so fast?” I’m mystified at the speed with which Finn works.
“It’s been in motion since the visit you and Cade paid to him at the gym. All it took was a few phone calls to dispatch the orders.” Finn’s planning and forethought are unnerving.
“Cops?” I ask, knowing at this point Finn’s going to have a solution.
He sighs. “Chief of police isn’t exactly squeaky clean. But he’s not on my payroll. We didn’t approach him, but I’ve got enough to make it go away if we need to.”
“Cell phone tower pings?” I’m grasping at straws, and I know it.
“We’re stopping at a diner a few miles up ahead. The bunnies have contacts there. We’ll have been there this morning having coffee and food,” Finn answers.
“GPS on this beast?”
“Doesn’t work.” Finn sighs. “Deacon, I love you. I love Henri, and I love your sister more than I love life. There is nothing I would do to jeopardize losing that.”
The ease with which he says those words is alarming. Finn does love everyone deeply, the loyalty there knowing no bounds.
I nod and relax into the seat. I wanted something more violent and to rip him limb from limb. But this will have to do.
“There is a plan B,” Finn admits. “If this doesn’t meet your needs.”
I don’t answer him, letting us get a few more miles down the road. He pulls into the diner parking lot and backs into a parking spot.
Before he turns off the engine, I ask, “What is it?”
“We turn him,” Finn answers. “You take his car and follow me and him home. Then I or Cade, who did volunteer, turn him into a wolf. He’s in too deep and is then subject to our laws.”
Finn holds his hand out. I pull my phone out of my pocket and hand it to him.
“I’ll be right back.” Finn nods and takes the phones into the back door of the restaurant.
He’s back in less than two minutes.
Behind the steering wheel, Finn gets us back on the road.
“You’ve an hour to decide.”
I shake my head; his plan is good, but mine... It comes from beyond the grave. “I’ve got a better idea.”
“This’ll be good.” Finn looks over at me.
I spend the next hour laying out my plan, the one I’d brewed in pieces over the last few months. In the quiet hours of the morning, when Henri was asleep, and the loud moments in my brain when I couldn’t be with her. Then I add Ezra’s suggestion, which makes it a near-perfect murder.
“Deacon, I say this with the utmost respect, but you’re a twisted fuck.” Finn laughs as he parks a block from Nathan’s house.
It’s in front of a park to avoid any potential security systems or suspicion from a neighbor, even if Finn covered those bases.
“Thanks.” There is no humor in the smile I give him. “Shall we?”
I’ve stalked Nathan plenty of times, but this time, my excitement is growing harder to contain.
Finn is at my back, letting me take the lead. If it weren’t for being a wolf, I probably wouldn’t even hear his footsteps on the ground. For a behemoth, he really does move like a shadow.
Casually I stroll up the sidewalk and right to the door. I lift the mat corner and pull the key out from underneath it.
“Christ, humans will do just about anything except keep themselves safe,” Finn mutters.
I slide the key into the doorknob and unlock it. Using my shirt, I wipe my prints from the key and drop it back under the mat.
Finn twists the handle, the sleeve of his hooded sweatshirt covering his hand, and lets us in. “The hares will come for cleanup just to be safe.”
The house is dark. But the blue glow of a TV spills into the hallway from the bedroom.
“Alright. That’s it for me tonight, bitches. Gonna see if I can’t get a booty call now that I know for sure that piece of wolf ass is out of the way.”
Nathan almost sounds like he knows I’m here and is trying to infuriate me. The way he thinks he can talk about her and what he’s done like it’s nothing.
An office chair creaks and wheels roll against the floor. “I’ll catch you tomorrow. We gotta get some more PRs.”
Something is set down—on a desk or table? —and again, the chair objects, but this time as he stands from it.
Finn casually leans against the wall by the door, and I stand more toward the middle of the living room, just waiting and not for long.
The glow from the TV is cut off, and Nathan is plunged into darkness. It would be an advantage if humans were invading his home. If I’d given up my wolf even. But he’s not, and I didn’t. My eyes adjusted long ago.
He walks through the dark, down the hallway toward us, his phone screen illuminating his face but not the floor in front of him. He’s within arm’s reach before he even looks up and realizes he’s not alone.
Through the dark, I reach out and grab his phone, pulling it out of his hand.
Nathan skitters backward toward the hallway from where he came. A loud high-pitched scream belts out from his lungs, much like one would associate with the first person who dies in a horror film. Fitting.
Finn flicks on the light.
Nathan is ghost white.
I start laughing. It’s cruel and wicked, and I kind of like being able to laugh right now. Anger is still there, bubbling under the surface, right along with the pain of grief, but much like every time I’ve gotten to kill, the enjoyment comes from that dark spot on my soul.
“What the fuck are you doing in my house?” Nathan shouts, replacing his scream of fear with rage.
Passing Nathan’s phone to Finn, I answer his question. “We’ve just come to kill you is all. Shouldn’t take too long and then we’ll be going.”
Nathan steps forward from the hall he’d been trying to take refuge in. “You think, what? You can just break in here and kill me? Like no one’s going to know? You’re wolves. That doesn’t make you untouchable. There are still laws.”
My wolf hums. Less politics. More murder .
“Aww.” Finn makes the soft mocking noise he’s learned from Lena. “He’s so stupid. I just texted all your buddies that you’re hooking up with a new chick you just met. I then just texted all your hookups answering them with someone else’s name. No one’s going to be looking for you. We’d probably be able to torture you all night, and not a single person would know.”
Nathan squares up with me and clenches his hands into fists.
“You don’t want to do that.” I casually point to his hand. “Listen, if you make this easy on us, I’ll kill you quickly. You know why I’m here—”
“You’re here because you’re pissed off that I’m better than you.” Nathan cuts me off with the most ridiculous statement ever.
Finn lets out a huff. “Is that so?”
Nathan charges forward toward me. He telegraphs his punch, allowing me to easily move around it and shove my knee up into his chest. Having the wind knocked out of him drops him straight to the floor.
“He’s a heavy fuck.” Finn looks down at Nathan gasping for air. “Slow too.”
“Slow, dumb, and heavy.” I list the obvious traits that comprise the worthless piece of shit.
Nathan, not quite recovered, scrambles to his feet. He tries to grab me around the middle, but Finn wraps his long arm around Nathan’s neck.
I take the short trip to the garage, remembering seeing sporting equipment there while stalking Nathan. As much as I’d love to trust all of Finn’s fail-safes, for tonight, some things should look like they’re part of the final accident in all of this.
I grab a baseball bat from where it leans against the wall.
Finn has Nathan lifted by his neck so high off the ground his feet are dangling, and he’s on the verge of passing out. Show off.
Nathan kicks out and tries to tear through Finn’s thick forearm.
When I return, Finn drops him, and Nathan crumples to a heap on the floor.
I don’t waste time.
Approaching, I line up a golf-like swing with the baseball bat, striking him from his left shoulder across his chest. The metal reverberates in my hand, and he lets out a gasping scream of pain.
I let him recover, my darkness reveling in the way he’s suffering.
Crouching down in front of him, I pat the aluminum bat against the palm of my hand. “Broken collarbone. Hurts like a bitch, doesn’t it? You’ll lose some of the range of motion in your shoulder if I did it right.”
“We should check.” Finn steps behind Nathan and fluidly yanks him to his feet by the wrist, pulling Nathan’s arm above his head.
Another glorious scream.
“Should have brought my shooting muffs.” Finn winces. “I didn’t take him for a screaming little bitch.”
“Why?” Nathan cries.
“I think the words you used were ‘cheating whore.’” I line up another swing, letting the blunt force trauma break his shin. Then I quickly follow it up with a knock into his ribs.
He’s sniveling and blowing snot bubbles already.
Finn drops him to the floor.
“Help!” Nathan tries.
Finn bribing the neighbors, brilliant.
The darkness rises, and I quote it while it mocks him. “Help me! Oh, help me! I’m not as big and bad as I thought I was. Help! I can beat a woman but can’t take the same torment.”
Pathetic as he is, Nathan swipes out at me, still trying to throw a punch with his good arm.
“You know, I thought I’d enjoy torturing you more.” I sigh watching him struggle. “I thought torturing you and making you suffer would make me feel better about everything you’ve taken from me. Everything you’ve taken from my mate and from Grace.”
Nathan’s eyes shoot up to me. “I didn’t—”
“Don’t deny it, Nathan. You’re insufferable enough without being a delusional liar.” Grabbing hold of Nathan’s hand, I explain, “But I don’t feel anything. Torturing you isn’t bringing me joy.”
I push his hand down against the floor. He tries to take it back, but I use the bat to hold it in place. Then I bear my weight down, shattering the bones of his hand.
He’s crying and flailing, his face ashen white.
“It’s not bringing me any sort of relief. The truth is, Nathan, you’re no longer worth my time. You’re not anything.”
Nathan starts spitting up blood, and it splatters across the floor.
He vomits.
“If you want to go, I’ll have the hares pick me up,” Finn offers. “I’ve got some pent-up rage I could really stand to get out.”
Mate, my wolf pushes. End this and go to her.
I nod, but the darkness doesn’t recede. I can’t not be the one to kill him. I put my hand out to Finn, and he pulls his knife out of his jacket.
Nathan sputters as he foams at the mouth. The whites of his eyes are huge as I stand over the top of him. I put my foot on his stomach, practically standing all my weight on him, and he screams.
His eyes lock with mine, and my wolf pushes forward.
It’s fitting that my wolf is the last thing he sees.
For our mate. And Grace.
The knife sinks easily between his ribs, puncturing a lung and then his heart. Of all my kills, this was the most important but the least fulfilling.
Later, I’ll have to come to terms with not having done it soon enough.