I grin savagely at him. “Because we killed her.” I don’t give him any time to process that information, taking a large, deliberate step toward him. My sudden movement has him swinging the gun in my direction, but this is the thing I hate about guns, especially huge, long barreled shotguns—they just don’t work in small spaces, and I’m far too close for him to get any sort of a decent shot.
The second the barrel swings in my direction, I reach out and grab a hold of it, fighting him for control of it. With him distracted, Beck quickly rushes to his other side, and in a move that turns me on way more than it should, he pulls a knife out of his fucking boot and holds it to Wilbert’s carotid.
The fat shitstain stops struggling, immediately falling still at the press of cold steel against his neck and letting me rip the gun from his hands. Flicking on the safety, I chuck the stupid thing on the bed and turn back to grin manically at the look of utter terror on Wilbert’s face.
“Is it inappropriate if I tell you how much I want to fuck you right now?” I ask Beck, ignoring Wilbert’s splutters.
Beck laughs darkly, his own monster stirring just below the surface. When he looks up at me from where he’s crouched behind Wilbert, I swear, I fucking gush for him. That titillating combination of darkness and lust brims in his eyes, and I am so fucking here for it. “Not at all, sweetheart, if only you could see the boner I’m sporting for you right now.”
My grin turns genuine as Wilbert’s wide-eyed gaze darts between us.
“What the—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Beck snarls, focusing back on his scumbag father. “I think we’ve heard just about enough from you.”
“Definitely,” I mutter in agreement.
Wilbert’s breaths come in rapid, panicked pants and sweat coats his forehead.
“Now,” Beck muses, glancing up at me with an excited gleam in his eyes, “what are we to do with you?”
I lift my finger to my lips as I mull over our options. I’m all for gutting him here and now, but given Maria’s death earlier, we probably shouldn’t be drawing any more unwanted attention our way.
An idea comes to mind, and Beck quirks an eyebrow when I grin at him. “I have an idea.” He waits patiently for me to continue. “It involves a cliff and a long long fall to the bottom.”
“What? Wait—”
“Sounds perfect,” Beck agrees, his fucked up grin matching my own. “Come on, fatty, let’s go get some fresh air.”
“What?! No!” Wilbert insists, pushing himself further into the chair and gripping on tightly to the arms, as if that will save him. It’s fucking laughable.
Beck seems to think the same as he chuckles, digging his blade deeper into Wilbert’s neck, nicking the skin. “It wasn’t a suggestion,” he barks.
With a lot of pushing, Wilbert eventually gets to his feet. His knees are practically quaking as Beck shoves him in the back, causing him to stumble as he takes a step toward the door.
I retrieve the gun and knife from the floor, handing the gun back to Beck before I move to open the bedroom door. Keeping ahead of them, we make our way at a painfully slow speed along the landing and down the stairs. Wilbert blubbers and cries and protests with every fucking step, but Beck and I pay him no attention.
It feels like it takes fucking forever before we finally reach the doors leading out the back of the property. I’ve never ventured close to the edge of the cliffs, but I remember West telling me about them, and somehow it feels like a fitting end to all of this.
Opening the back door, there’s a slight breeze in an otherwise still evening, which swirls the sea air around me. I take a deep breath, and I don’t know if it’s the sea-salt or how close to being finished we are, but damn, the taste of freedom is so fucking sweet.
“Please don’t,” Wilbert pleads for like the fiftieth time as Beck shoves the end of the gun in Wilbert’s back, rolling his eyes at me. I laugh, and Wilbert looks at me like I’m crazy.
“You’re both sick,” he snarls. “What normal person would do this to someone?”
The laughter drops off my face, and in the next second, I’m standing in front of him, so close I can feel his disgusting breath on my cheek. “What sort of person turns children into monsters for a living? What sort of person makes his son feel like shit and pretends the other doesn’t exist until he has a need for him? What sort of person forces his children to do what you’ve made Beck do?”
Stepping away from him, I shrug, letting my anger at his words bleed out into the night air. “Besides, we never claimed to be normal. We are what you made us. We’re a product of our environments. You turned us into who we are, and now it’s time for your reckoning.”
He just looks confused, and I’m pretty sure he’s got no fucking idea what I’m on about. Not that I give a shit.
“Now come on, Beck and I have better things to be doing with our night.”
Beck shoves Wilbert forward again, and he begins to sob like the pathetic waste of life he is. Slowly, we make our way toward the cliff edge, the sound of the waves crashing far below getting louder with every step, and the smell of sea-salt in the air gets stronger.
There’s something so peaceful about it all, and this unusual sense of calm settles over me as we approach the cliff. When we’re a few feet away, Wilbert collapses to his knees.
Beck and I both huff out a breath of frustration. This is taking so fucking long.
“Jesus Christ, be a fucking man about it,” I snarl angrily.
“I can’t,” he sobs. “Please.”
“Please, what? Show you mercy? Spare your life?” I wrap my hand around the hair on the top of his head and wrench his head back, so he’s staring up at me, not that he can see me through the tears streaming from his eyes. “Where was your mercy when you were killing kids? When Meena was being beaten to death? When you stripped us of our fucking humanity to line your own pockets?” Letting go of my hold on his hair, his head flops forward until his chin meets his chest.
“I didn’t—” he blubbers, and maybe he’s right. He didn’t pull the trigger. It wasn’t his boot that kept driving into Meena. But it was done under his purview. Whether or not he was directly involved isn’t the fucking point. It was his company. He is just as much to blame as Lawrence, Frank, Maria, and even Barton to some extent.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t lucky enough to be able to throw Lawrence, Frank, or Maria off the side of a cliff. Regardless of how each of them met their demise though, it was more than deserved.
The sound of a gunshot going off makes Wilbert scream before he breaks down in a fresh round of tears.
“On your fucking feet,” Beck snaps, having reached the limit of what he’s willing to tolerate. Knowing his father isn’t going to stand up on his own, he grabs him by the back of his pajama top, and I help yank him to his feet.
With the gun shoved deep into the middle of his spine, he stumbles forward another few feet, until he’s hovering at the cliff edge.
I can see his entire body shaking with fear now, and Beck and I make sure to stay a few feet back from the edge to be safe.
“Please,” Wilbert continues, his words falling on deaf ears.