Chapter Twelve #2
I dodge his blows, but it's hard to keep out of his reach. He's got several inches on me, and I have to get closer if I want to do any damage with my knife. I manage a kick to his ribs, which has Ricky doubling over and sucking in a breath.
Just as I go to drive my knife into him and finish him off, a gunshot rings through the air.
Searing heat fills my side as warmth spills over my hip. I hear a scream and then a grunt. Ricky’s hands are covering his stomach as blood pours out of it. Turning around, I find Calliope with one hand over her mouth, stifling her sobs, the other dangling by her side and holding a small revolver.
"I-I'm so sorry. I d-didn't mean to shoot you. I thought he was going to kill you. I shot when you two broke apart, but I swear I didn't mean to shoot you."
Glancing down, I see the blood rolling out of the left side of my lower stomach.
Twisting, I wince as I reach behind me, where I feel another hole on the left side of my back.
The wounds are so close to the side that I'm almost positive it's a through-and-through, but I definitely need to get shit figured out here and my ass back to the farm.
"It's fine, Calliope. Don't worry—"
"Calli. P-please call me Calli."
I smile at the young woman in front of me and nod.
"Alright, Calli it is. I'll be fine, but we need to do some damage control here."
"Oh my god. I killed him. What am I going to do?" Her voice rises as her panic takes over.
"Would anyone other than Ricky know if you were home tonight or somewhere else?"
"No–"
"Was Ricky supposed to be home tonight or on the rig?"
Calli stares at Ricky, who’s lying in an increasingly growing pool of blood as his face becomes more ashen.
I’m not sure if she heard me, but we don’t have time to waste while I’m bleeding all over the place. “Calli?”
Her head swings in my direction, but her eyes are hollow when they meet my own. "On the rig, but he went on a bender and went off the rails."
"Alright, that will work in our favor. Is your son here?"
"Oh my god, Hank!" Calli's eyes fill with panic as she tears out of the room and down the hall towards the bedrooms.
While Calli checks on her son, I head to the front door and grab my bag from where I left it, then dig out the first aid kit.
I need to make sure I don’t leave a single trace of DNA here, even if I plan on burning the place to the ground—as long as Calli’s okay with it.
I get to work on stifling the flow of blood, then wrap my wound as best as I can.
I'm just finishing up when a relieved Calli comes walking back in.
"He's still out like a light."
"That's great. How attached are you to this place?"
"I hate it. It's been my own personal hell since the moment I stepped foot on it."
A crazy glint fills my eyes as I imagine burning it down. "Perfect. Do you two have someplace to go if this house were to come to an untimely demise?"
"No, we don't. But I can figure something out."
"How would you feel about moving onto the farm? We have a few old ranch hand bunks that are still in pretty good condition. You and Hank could live in one and work at the farm until you get on your feet."
"Are you serious?" Calli whispers as tears fill her eyes.
"As a heart attack. The only thing I ask in return is that you don't tell a soul what happened tonight.
“You and Hank took up my nana's offer to spend a few days at the B&B when she came to give you her condolences about your aunt's passing. She saw the marks around your neck and convinced you to spend some time away from Ricky." I nod at the violent red handprints ringing Calli's neck.
“You'll be there tonight when the news that there has been a fire reaches Nana. She’ll let you know, and you can call the authorities to inform them of your whereabouts.
“Unfortunately, you won't be able to take too many of your belongings in order to make it look believable, but if you're to sell a few days’ stay, that will at least mean a suitcase of clothes and some toys for Hank."
"Look around you. We don't have much to begin with. What we do have was either from my aunt, donations from the church, or money I was able to stash in case I ever had enough to get away from Ricky. I'll never be able to repay you for what you're doing."
"From where I'm standing, you got yourself out of the situation. I'm just giving you an alibi."
Calli smiles at me as tears stream down her face. I grunt as she throws her arms around me. My gunshot wound might not be life threatening from what I can tell, but it's starting to hurt like a bitch. ?
"It's fine. Go pack your bags. I'm going to go get my ride and bring it to the front door."
I force myself to jog back to my jeep, even though each step is fucking agonizing.
I’ve already spent too much time at Ricky's place. The dry weather means the ground shouldn’t show any trace of my footsteps, so I cut straight through the field instead of heading back to the main road to ?get there.
When I pull up to the house, Calli is out front with a sleeping Hank in her arms, a large duffle bag at her feet, and a pack ‘n’ play beside it.
"Got everything you need?"
"I think so."
"Is Ricky's truck here?"
"It is, but he and a few of the other guys carpool. It's not uncommon for him to leave it here when he is at work."
"Sounds good. Do you need a car seat for him?"
"He should have one, but Ricky said they were too expensive, so I've just held him." Shame floods Calli's face.
I want to bring Ricky back to life so that I can slowly torture him the way he's tortured this poor girl over the years. "It's fine. I'll be careful. You two get settled. I'll be right back."
I make my way inside to Ricky. Moving him is going to fucking suck, but I don't have time to dig the bullet out of him. Plus, the wound in my side is starting to seep through my bandage, and I really don't want to risk any more of my DNA spilling here.
Grabbing Ricky's booted feet, I drag him towards the door.
His head bangs off the wall with a dull thunk as I round the corner into the front hallway.
With one final grunt, I get the behemoth of a man out the front door.
I hate that I need to put him in the car with Calli and Hank, but there's no other way if we're hoping for people to believe the drugs got their hold and he went AWOL.
I get Ricky outside, then turn on all the burners for the stove in the kitchen but make sure they don't ignite.
I wait until I can smell gas in the air, then head back outside.
Once I close the front door to trap the gas inside, I use the steps to my advantage to get Ricky on my shoulder and towards my hoopty.
I almost don't get him in the jeep, but with one last shove, I push his big ass inside, and not a moment too soon.
I lost a fuck-ton of blood getting his dead weight in. My head feels woozy, and the bandage is ineffective at this point, but the job isn't finished. Rounding the jeep, I pull myself inside and move it about fifty yards from the house.
"I need to go back and start the fire. Be right back." I jump out of the door but end up falling to my knees.
Fuck me.
Shoving to my feet, I stop about thirty yards from the kitchen.
I pull the lighter out of my bag, along with a couple of alcohol swabs.
I unwrap them, find a rock to tie them around, then light them on fire.
I throw the rock as hard as I can through the kitchen window and watch in awe as fire erupts inside.
I hop back in the jeep and peel out. Calli doesn't spare a glance back as we fly down the back roads, racing towards her freedom.
As soon as we hit town, I slow down in hopes of not drawing any attention our way, even though all I want to do is get home and lie down. The blood loss is not only making me dizzy, but I'm nauseous as hell.
Grabbing my phone from the cupholder, I pull up my text thread with Thatcher.
Jolene: Need Rieka and Kenina. Get here ASAP, but don't alert anyone else. I'll be fine, just more than you or I can patch up on our own. Losing too much blood and need their help.
I don't even wait for a response. I just toss my phone back in the cupholder and floor it as soon as I hit the end of Main Street. I'm driving more recklessly than I normally would, especially with little Hank in the car, but I need to get to the farm before I pass out and wreck.
Normally, I wouldn't drive past the B&B when I come home like this, but I need Nana's help.
I pull up to her window and flash my headlights, which alerts her to my distress.
Once I feel like I've done enough to wake her, I make my way to one of the old farm hand cabins.
I rush Calli in and tell her my mama will come check on her and Hank in a bit, and not to worry about anything else tonight.
I just make it to the barn and turn off the jeep when Nana opens the door. I turn my jeep back on, pull it inside, park, then spill out of the door.
"What the hell happened to you, child?"
"Eh, Calli stepped in when I was taking out Ricky. She shot him, and I got a little banged up in the scuffle, but I’ll be fine. Let’s get this over with." I thumb over my shoulder at the back of the hoopty.
Nana goes to look for herself, muttering and cursing.
"Come on. I don't have it in me to take him to the slaughterhouse, but I want to get this over with before Thatcher gets here. I reckon we have maybe ten minutes." I roll to my hands and knees, and force myself to my feet.
"I'll get what we need," Nana mutters as she heads to the room where we keep all our tools.
I make quick work of Ricky's clothes with the knife that's still stashed in my tactical pants. Lucky for us, he likes his hair buzzed short, so that's one less thing we have to deal with.
Nana is back in a flash with a garbage bag, tarp, pliers, and my butcher knife set.
We roll Ricky onto the tarp, and I quickly dismember him.
It's not my best job, but black spots swirl in my vision, letting me know I need to get this done.
I still haven't told Nana about the extent of the gunshot wound or how much blood I’ve actually lost, too worried about wiping all traces of Ricky before Thatcher gets here.
I'm just throwing the last leg in the pig pen when the barn door bursts open.
"What the actual fuck is going on here?" Beau's voice cuts through the air.
Before I can utter a word, my legs give out and the world goes dark.