His lips tighten into a white line, but he has enough sense to turn and make
his way down the steps, straightening out his rumpled blazer to reestablish his fragile fa?ade of confidence. He’s struggling to maintain a calm expression, with his fists clenched and shaking, and sweat lining his hairline.
He pauses at the last step, standing before me with his nose in the air. He wants to die with his head held high.
How na?ve.
He will bow at my feet, begging for forgiveness and lips pressed so far into
my boots that his teeth leave imprints behind.
“Where is she?” I ask, my voice cold and devoid of emotion.
He stares at me, his throat bobbing as he works to swallow. “I wasn’t told the
location.”
“But you’re in contact with the men who have her,” I counter. He blinks, licking his lips to stall while he finds the proper response.
“It’s been fulfilled. I transferred Rick's percentage, and we cut ties.”
Max transferred money to one account, so I figure only Rick Boreman got a
cut, though I'm not entirely sure why yet. On the surveillance cam of Addie's car
crash, there were two men, and Rick was not the one to drag her out of her overturned vehicle.
I purse my lips, the scars on my face crinkling, nod my head, and walk toward him slowly, like a cheetah stalking its prey. A trickle of satisfaction drips into my bloodstream when he tenses, solidifying beneath my eyes.
“And you’re telling me that you have no way to contact either of them?”
He swallows and shakes his head. “Rick disconnected his phone after the
transfer went through. Probably to hide from you.”
I hum, dragging my eyes up and down his form, noting the awkward stance
and the way his feet are angled inward. He’s seconds away from pissing himself.
There’s no self-assurance of being in a public place, knowing the worst of your sins were intimidating a couple of women in a restaurant.
He’s been a very bad boy this time.
“So, why’d you do it, Max?”
“You killed my father, so the deal was off,” he spits, fury flashing in his irises.
Stilling, I can only stare at him as I process his words.
After I killed Archie Talaverra, I cut off his hands and set them on Addie’s doorstep as a reminder that she’s mine, and no one else is ever to touch her. Max found out and started placing blame on her for Archie’s death, so I made him a
deal. I wouldn’t kill his father, and he wouldn’t touch Addie. It took kidnapping
and recording a video to drive home the point, but he kept to his word. Until recently.
Funny thing is, I never killed his father.
“Excuse me?”
He blinks, his face gradually turning red.
“You kill—”
“I heard what you fucking said,” I bark. “What made you think it was me?”
His face contorts. “Because you fucking said it was,” he bellows, taking a threatening step towards me. I do better and lunge in his face, causing him to recoil and lose his footing.
I catch him by the collar of his shirt and jerk him close. “Explain, Max,” I snarl. “Because I didn’t fucking kill your father. If I had, I would've killed both of you. We made a fucking deal, and I kept my word.”
He shakes his head, breathing fire. “You sent me the video of you
decapitating my father on Friday. On the video, you said, ‘This is for Adeline Reilly.’”
Fire fills my veins, every single one in my body protruding.
“Was it my voice?”
“Wha—I don’t know, man! I don’t have a goddamn recording of your voice
to compare it to. It was deep like yours, that’s all I know.”
I nod my head, letting him see in my eyes just how much he fucked up. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who actually killed his father.
“Did you bother confirming if it was me?”
“Oh, my bad, bro, I’ll call you up next time,” he retorts.
I grin savagely. “Are you telling me you’re not resourceful, Maximilian?
Because I am, and I have many resources to make you suffer. If you're going to
get revenge for a murder, then you better be sure about who actually fucking did
it.”
He flounders, his mouth flopping as he realizes that he acted without thought.
He saw his father die a brutal death, decided who it was based on a single sentence, and sent Addie to the slaughterhouse.
Red is seeping into my vision, and it takes all of my control to keep it at bay.
To see clearly—because I want to witness every fucking second of Max’s death.
“You want to know who killed your father, jackass? The very people you sold
Addie off to. The Society killed him so you would betray me, and then target Addie. You fell right into their fucking trap and did all the dirty work for them.”
He shakes his head. “How would they know about our deal and what you did
to my father?”
“I don’t know, Max, did your father open his fat fucking mouth and flap it to
anyone who would listen? Did you? Whining about how I kidnapped him and threatened him if you so much as touched Addie and Daya. You tellin’ me neither of you didn’t go around bitching about it to anyone that possesses ears?”
His teeth click, confirming my presumption. “It’s not hard to find out about our rivalry when you don’t shut the fuck up about it,” I hiss.
He grunts as I haul him towards the front door, his feet dragging on the tile
and nails clawing at my hand in panic. I plan on taking this very slow with him.
Getting as much information as I can before I send him down below.
“Wait, wait, it was a mistake. Let’s work something out,” he sputters as I drag
him down the porch stairs and towards my car. “I’ll get her back!”
I flash him a ferocious smile. “Don’t worry, Max, I plan on working out a lot
of things with you. Or rather, working them out of you.”
The bloody scalpel clatters against the metal tray, and Max’s groans fill the air. He didn’t find it humorous when I started playing “ Bodies ” by Drowning Pool to drown out his incessant screaming.
I laughed the entire song, even though I can’t feel anything right now but burning flames in my hollow chest.