THIRTY-ONE #3
“You. Killed. My. Dad.” His fists balled, and a red mist entered his vision. He was going to fucking destroy Vince so goddamn slowly, their ancestors would feel the pain of it.
“YOU KILLED MY DAD,” Splice yelled, and he heard Vince’s breathing increase, his face twisted, like he was so over talking about it, like he thought Splice should get over it already.
“Yes,” Vince shrieked. “Yeah, alright! Yes, it was me. I did it!” he was red in the face, wild in the eyes. Something Splice acknowledged that this was the real Vince.
It was as if his mask had fallen.
“Guire always had the life that was fucking mine!” he spat. “I got rid of him!”
Rage burned his veins to dust. “What life? You both owned the business. You both had the same amount of money. What fucking life? Why did you have to kill my dad?”
“He wasn’t your goddamn dad! I’m your dad! He had the life that was mine!”
If Splice had been shot in the chest with a gun made of cheese, he wouldn’t have been as shocked as he was hearing those words ringing through his ear canal.
I’m your dad.
I’m your dad.
“Get fucked. Guire is my dad!” he spat. “If you think lying to me now will save you, think again.
“I’m not lying,” huffed Vince, shuffling in the chair.
“I’m your real dad. I’ve tried to be a father to you your whole life, Splice.
You must have felt that? How close we’ve been.
I was closer to you than I am to Bart. I’ve always been there for you.
I always will be, no matter what. Even now, we can get past this, can’t we?
I promise it’ll get better now the truth is out. ”
Shock stabbed Splice in the abdomen.
Not because Vince was claiming to be his biological father. But because something occurred to him, and his voice box stung like he’d swallowed acid as he spoke quietly, an eerily coldness staining his voice, standing directly in front of Vince.
“I was born because my mom was raped at a party. She was raped, Vince. I’m here because someone raped my mom! If you say you’re my dad...”
“I never raped Tammie!” he screamed, spit flying out of his enraged mouth.
But his shit got worse.
“She wanted me first! I saw her first before Guire, but she never gave me a second look after she met him. But we were always meant to be together!”
It was an out-of-body experience for Splice.
He couldn’t really catalog what he did.
An unparalleled fury consumed him, and he repeatedly punched Vince in the head with his fists. Screaming at him, “You raped her! You raped her! You raped her, and then you stayed in our lives, you fucking cunt! I’ll kill you!”
The red mist blinded Splice, and he could only swing, feeling the wetness of blood coating his hands.
He wasn’t aware of being pulled off Vince minutes later by Reno, who was yelling for him to calm down as he bodily yanked him away.
He wasn’t aware of Axel’s presence or Ruin’s.
He pulled himself out of Reno’s hold, and all those truths weighed down on Splice’s chest until he fought for air.
His lungs struggled as he collapsed to his knees, air choking him.
He wasn’t even aware that he was crying until he covered his face, trying to blind himself from those words, as those hands came away soaked.
Vince was slumped to the side, unmoving.
He didn’t care if he’d killed him. He rested both fists on the floor, trying to breathe. Barely hearing Axel speak to someone, then Reno was saying words, but they might as well have been ten miles away; his ears were ringing, his heart was tripling, trying to break out of his chest.
Vince was his father. They’d shared so many memories with a rapist.
Ruin came into his eyeline because the enforcer forcibly tugged on Splice’s chin until he focused his eyes on the serious man crouched in front of him.
“Did I kill him?” Splice croaked.
“He has a pulse. Do you want it finished?”
It was an immediate “Yes.”
Ruin rose just like that. Axel blocked Splice’s point of view, crouching down; he laid a hand on Splice’s head, speaking low to him, but Splice heard nothing but his own agony screaming in his ears.
After that, he couldn’t say how long, but Reno’s old lady, Kylie, appeared in the shed, dressed from head to toe in her familiar black garb, concealing her identity from outsiders because only a few patched brothers knew what she did.
She owned a funeral home, but on the side, her secret gig was working for the club and other underground criminals by cleaning up scenes they wanted gone.
She was efficient as fuck, and came with her own equipment, instructing Reno, who worked effortlessly with his wife, to clean up the dead body like it never happened, while Splice was useless on the floor, dying from the inside, knowing what had happened to his parents because of Vince.
And Vince had situated himself in their lives like he belonged.
Within a matter of hours, Vince would be ashes and bones in Kylie’s funeral home cremator.
“It’s over now, brother,” Axel spoke gently. “Take a breath, you’re gonna be okay.”
But Splice couldn’t see a day it would ever be over.
Not for him.
Not for his mom.
All he was sure of was that he hoped Vince rotted in hell.