38. Delivering Justice
Delivering Justice
The buzzer rang. For Lucien, it was a signal that the kill was officially going to happen.
He rubbed his hands together while slipping on his mask of quiet calm.
No one needed to know how much this would satisfy him.
For today was the day.
The steel bars clicked open while a guard marched behind him, handcuffs jingling with each step. Making sure Lucien would remain unharmed in these quarters. Funny, it hadn’t occurred to them that he was far more lethal than most inmates combined.
Never hurts to keep yourself incognito.
They passed by rows and rows of cells, heavy boots thudding in the silence of the prison. Empty beds, stainless steel toilets. Not a place he’d see himself living in.
Rounding a corner, they came upon a wider room, with nothing but steel tables and chairs to decorate the concrete flooring.
Lucien stepped onto the grey stairs leading up, where a special someone sat waiting for him.
He motioned for the guard to stay back. “I’ll handle it from here. Thank you, Andrew.”
“How long do you need, sir?”
“Thirty minutes, give or take.”
Andrew nodded with a solemn look. Lucien waited patiently until the guard had jingled down the steps and disappeared from view.
The warden had explicitly stated for a guard to remain present at all times.
Shame his words were lost on the ears of those listening to… certain higher ranked individuals.
Lucien strode forward, glancing into the one cell that still contained a human life. He forced his tone to one of calm reverence before speaking out over the silent cell block. “Frank Brown. You’ve got no idea how utterly thrilled I am to be meeting you.”
The man sat on his mattress with one knee drawn up. He twisted to see his visitor, greasy hair plastered to his temple, right over his squinting, bruised, blue eye. Even prison hadn’t managed to get him to use shampoo. Shame.
“I have no need for fans.” The inmate drawled.
Lucien strode into the man’s room, already reaching for the small black bag that sat snug around his hips. “I see.”
Frank regarded him with suspicion, gaze zeroed in on the syringe Lucien now held up to the light, drawing up the colorless liquid out of two small vials.
“What are you doing here? Why is everyone else outside?”
And there is the panic I’ve been looking for!
“You should be appreciative of the fact that they are being kept away from you.” Lucien pointed out Frank’s black and blue bruise.
“From what I hear, you’re a favorite yourself around these parts.
” He tsked, while he ticked out the air, not that it mattered much, but one needed to stay attentive at all times.
“I won’t ask again, why the fuck are you in here?”
“Ohhh!” Lucien shrunk down on himself in mock fear.
“Shivers are racing down my spine.” He stilled, at once deadly serious.
“Maybe this works better on traumatized females, hmm? But it matters not. Montana state prison, empty just so you and I can have a… pleasant chat, well, pleasant for me.” He winked at the inmate.
“After all, this is your very final day on Earth.”
The man quickly swung his legs over the bed. “Who the fuck are you?”
Lucien sprayed the slightest amount off the syringe into the air. “The warden was hesitant of course, but after a little talk we worked it all out.”
Frank pushed off the bed, in two strides he reached Lucien. “I swear, I will fuck you up good if you don’t give me a name now.”
“Orange suits you.”
The inmate swung out with a fist aimed straight for Lucien’s face. He let it come at him, moving his head at the last second, his own hand snapped out, grabbing hold of the punch now veering past his temple. He jerked Frank forward, jamming the needle in his forearm.
“Thank you for the help, Frank.”
The inmate jumped back, eyes wide in shock. “What was that?”
“Ah!” Lucien raised a finger. “I’d love to lay out the deets for that.” This time a real shiver ran down his spine, his vision clearing up like it always did during a kill.
“The dose rushing in your veins right now contains both a sedative, which might make your limbs a little uncooperative. The stimulant, well, that will considerably heighten your sensitivity to pain.”
Frank stumbled back, hitting the side of his bed with his legs and landed straight on his ass.
“Why?” The inmate mewled. The man looked lost already, not as lost as Kate had, though, when she walked off of that battlefield and straight into his arms.
Lucien crossed the room, leaning over to put his lips next to Frank’s ear, whispering.
“Maybe this will jog your memory.” He watched as the man’s tiny neck hairs rose on edge.
“That right there, is what all women here deserve.” He leaned back, seeing realization flicker up in Frank’s muddy brown eyes.
“If I’m not mistaken, that sentence was finished with, I’ll give it to each and every one of you.
It was your friend who said that of course, met his death in the same way you will.
” He checked his watch. “In about twenty-five minutes, or so.”
Lucien’s gaze narrowed as Frank got up, stumbling on uncertain feet to the stairs. He stretched out a leg, feeling for the step before putting his foot down, left, right.
“Admirable try.”
Frank spooked at his killer’s proximity, lost control over the railing and tumbled down the stairs in a tangle of limbs. Lucien crossed over to the railing, leaning both his elbows over it as he glanced down at his victim. “What can I say, paralysis is a bitch.”
The inmate lay outstretched. Gathering his bearings, he pushed up on hands and feet, a trickle of blood spilled down his mouth and dripped down his chin. Smearing the concrete with red streaks.
“We can wait a couple minutes more so it can set in alright.” Lucien strode down the stairs, slipping past Frank. Who was dragging himself forward, shoes squeaking as they trailed behind him over the cold floor.
He bent down to grab the rope Andrew had left behind. What came next… was never pretty. Would invoke old, bruised memories.
Of wood creaking, a silhouette in the hallway throwing a shadow on the floor. Swinging front and back. Lucien shook his head clear of the memory. It was different when it wasn’t a loved one.
And there was no other way. Prison deaths were always a careful measuring. You could bypass the cameras, the guards, even the warden, who had owed him quite the favor.
But when a body was found, it needed to look real. For an autopsy would raise questions that couldn’t be answered.
A shame.
He inspected the stairs, the thick blue steel pillar supporting the steps. Yes, it would make do.
For Isabel, who had survived, barely. And had one hell of a long road with recovery hurdles in front of her.
For Emily. Who couldn’t sleep since.
For Georgia and Heather, who wouldn’t set foot outside of the sanctuary without security present.
Lucien sat down on a steel table, legs swinging up and down as if he were on a playground, clenching the rope in his hand, he narrowed one eye. Length will do… now on to the knot.
Lastly, he would do it for Kate.
The attack had happened several weeks ago.
The bruises that covered her entire stomach and her chin.
They had faded for the most part. The rashes from where her skin had been dragged over the concrete had healed.
From when she’d fought not for her own life, but for Isabel’s.
Unknowingly saving her own in the process.
He’d known when her breaths had evened out as she lay bundled up against him, drifting off to sleep in mere minutes. Because she had felt safe with him.
Ghost had stared him down, a warning clear in his intelligent eyes. Touch her, and we have a problem.
His dog, his loyal companion of a dog, had given the final push to what his trembling fingers had already been telling him.
For the first time in his life, he couldn’t go through with a kill.
It had made him switch out the bottles of water as if in a trance.
Watched as the poison swirled into the drain, taking his old and careful life with it.
Seconds before he’d grabbed her chair, to clean the blood of Kate’s bruised skin.
A long squeak tore him out of his thoughts. He lifted his head to see Frank had nearly rounded the table, reaching for the steel-barred door. Limbs jerking around unfocused.
Funny, before Kate, he had been of the firm belief that no one was off the table.
“I believe that everyone walking this Earth is guilty of some crime. So yes, in a way, we all have it coming.”
It’s what he’d told her in the beginning, what he had thought his entire life. Shattered into a thousand pieces because of the actions of one small spitfire of a woman. Kate didn’t know it yet, but she held his life in her hands, every move she’d make would reflect back on him.
Somehow, he would need to find a way to protect her, to throw Max off their scent.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” The dragging had stopped. Frank lay in front of the door. His eyes glazed over. “Just make it stop.” His lips moved, a drip of saliva lingering in the corner of his mouth.
Sparing Kate’s life, it didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy a kill anymore. And this one, even though the method made his throat pinch together. It would feel good to remove this blemish from the face of the Earth.
Lucien hopped off the table. “I will. Soon.”