He swallows, his eyes red and stained with tears. “Okay, yes, yes, I remember.”
I’m looking right at him, but I don’t believe any of the shit he’s saying.
So I close my eyes and sigh while Chase cuts off another one of his toes.
This goes on and on until he has none left.
When they’re all gone, the man soils himself. “Please, just kill me,” he pleads.
I guess he could only ever dish out the pain … not take it.
I smile and suck in a deep breath as I watch him go deeper into despair, that same place I once crawled out from.
“No, I think we’ll have more fun with you. After all, you deserve it for bringing so much pain into the world.”
And Chase grabs his hands and begins to cut his fingers off too.
We keep going until everything is gone. Well, Chase is. I’m enjoying the sight while smoking a cigarette lit with my very own Zippo. The same one that was the catalyst for nearly every shitty thing that ever happened to me. But I could never throw this thing away, despite hating it so much. It came from a good place; my papa’s shop. He held it in his hands once, and I can’t help but feel some kind of peace whenever I stare at the gleaming metal. It’s as much a part of me as I am a part of it.
“I think he’s finished,” Chase says when the man is nearly passed out. He fishes a canister from the bag. “You wanna do the honors?”
“Hell yes,” I reply, and I dump the oil all over the man.
Nothing but painful sounding groans comes from his mouth as I throw the canister back into the bag and then open my Zippo.
“Got any last words?” I ask.
Slumped over, he shakes his head, completely defeated. As he should be since his miserable, cruel life is coming to an equally cruel end.
“Enjoy hell,” I growl, and I light the line I drew with the oil on fire, setting the man ablaze.
Chase nods at me and picks up the black bag, tucking everything away again. “Good seeing you again, Brandon,” he says.
“Thanks,” I say as we both walk out the warehouse.
“Always happy to help,” he replies, smiling like a motherfucker.
Boy, am I glad I found a friend like him.
If you could call it that.
Maybe a mutually beneficial partnership is more appropriate.
“Call me when you find another one,” Chase says as he gets into his own car.
“I will,” I reply as he shuts the door and drives off.
I definitely will.
Two down, one more to go …
And then I can finally put it all behind me with a burning crescendo.
Chapter Forty
Dixie
A few months later
I haven’t seen Brandon since that day at the graveyard. I don’t know where he’s gone or what he’s doing, but I feel like he’s still watching over me somedays. Like he’s spying on me from the corner or from the shop down the street.
I don’t know why, but I smile every time I think about it, knowing he’s out there somewhere, alive and well. Somehow, it gives me peace of mind. Maybe it’s for the best that we haven’t talked in a while. It’s given me some time to think about what I really value and want in my life.
Like the farm. I finally took it upon myself to transform what was left of the farmhouse into an actual workplace. Now I can craft my gadgets there instead of in that dirty old shed. And I’ve even set up a cash register, shelves, and an actual sign outside that says Dixie’s Gadgets & Goodies. I’ll be selling all the good stuff here from homemade lamps to handcrafted decorations for around the house. I’ve already gotten a few happy customers, so I’m confident I can turn this into a profitable business with the help of a bit of word of mouth and some smartly planted advertisements around the town.
I was never a real farmer girl to begin with, so this was the perfect way to turn over a new leaf and start something fresh.
The house isn’t finished yet, though. Refurnishing and redoing the inside is taking up a lot of my time, but I want it to be perfect because the property belongs to me now. It’s the only good thing my dad left me, and I’m gonna damn well enjoy it for as long as it’ll last me.
A girl all alone on her family’s farm. Who would’ve thought?
And to think, months ago I had bombed a goddamn hotel and got taken by a very handsome but very brutal man who couldn’t keep his hands off me. It’s still mindboggling to me that I went through all that and came back alive. And that I’m not in jail.
Somehow, neither Brandon nor I were even on the police’s radar. The only person they were after was Josiah Locklear, who went down as a drug-selling mafia lord who killed my dad and got blamed for the deaths of my brothers too.
I’m truly surprised they didn’t arrest me for that bomb, though. I guess my outfit concealed my identity perfectly. That, and I’m lucky the next hotel owner wrote off the incident as a gas explosion. I don’t think they wanted to deal with the mess Josiah left, which means I’m off the hook. Lucky me.
For the first time in my life, it feels as though I can finally do whatever I damn well please, and it feels good.
With a big smile on my face and carrying a paper bag filled with groceries for the day, I make my way through town. For some reason, people seem much happier now. That, or I’m just noticing it more. I’m noticing a whole lot more things now that there’s no pressure for me to move on with my life.
Like for example, the fact that a man in a black suit with long black hair just stepped out of the local tattoo shop and makes a hasty retreat.
It pushes all my buttons. All of them.
And after dropping off my groceries in the back of my car, I immediately head back to the tattoo shop. If it is who I think it is, I need to know what he’s doing there.
I walk into the tattoo shop and go up to the cashier’s desk. “Hey … can I ask who that man was just now?”
A pierced-up guy with green hair stops drawing on a paper and looks up at me. “Oh, I’m sorry, I can’t tell you,” he says. “First, I’m not allowed. And second, he never actually said his name.”