I’m a murderer.
At least that’s what they accused me. But I didn’t do a thing. I didn’t do a damn thing wrong. I was just trying to escape. And I got caught. How was that all my fault?
“Holy Christ, sweetie,” Wes said as his strong arms squeezed me. “Talk to me about it. Please…”
But I couldn’t.
If I opened my mouth, more truth was going to come out. Because of what Wes had said in the kitchen. The name he used. Oh, the fucking name he used.
The Assassin.
I slowly looked up at Wes. His eyes were dark, handsome. His jaw cut by the light of the moon. I almost wanted to kiss him again. But this time make it a real kiss. Not just for show.
But how could I?
How could I kiss him?
I had to tell him…
I know who the Assassin is.
~
I excused myself and broke away from Wes. I rushed back into the cabin and made a line for the bathroom. Locking the door didn’t do much of anything. I felt safe when I was near Wes, but I had the truth that would set him off again.
And right now, I needed him.
Shit, we had lied to a connected guy about being married. That was just plain dumb. I understood he had no choice in the matter though…
A gentle knock at the door made me bite my bottom lip.
“Rose? Are you okay?”
“No,” I said.
“What’s wrong? Why are you a murderer? Tell me.”
“It’s more than that, Wes. You shouldn’t have taken that picture. You shouldn’t have tracked me down. You shouldn’t have lied for me.”
“Goddammit,” he said and hit the door. “I already explained myself to you. Now explain yourself to me.”
I slowly turned. I held the edge of the sink. I thought about doing it just like this. What was the harm, right? Just hide and confess. Say what I knew and let Wes do what he had to do.
“Rose?”
I couldn’t do it that way though. I walked to the door and unlocked it. Wes quickly opened the door and stood there. He filled the doorway with size and muscle. His hands were balled into fists. He stared at me and I wasn’t sure if he trusted me or not. He had no reason to trust me… and I was about to destroy him.
“What the hell is going on?” Wes asked. “Those men after you… that was because you killed someone?”
“Maybe I killed everyone,” I said. “My mother. My father. Even your brother.”
I saw anger flash through Wes’s eyes. “You weren’t the one fighting Shane that night.”
“But what if I was there, Wes?”
Wes put his hands to my arms. It started to turn me on, but I couldn’t allow it.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I was at a lot of fights,” I said. “I was at that one. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. But he couldn’t help himself. I knew it was going to happen. I saw it for a while and nobody listened to me. My job was to parade around in a bikini and takes bets.”
Wes’s face dropped. He looked down. “You were there. So you know…”
“I know who the Assassin is.”
Wes’s hands opened. “I knew it. Who? Tell me right now.”
I swallowed hard. I started to shake.
I could see it happening in my mind, over and over.
Dad standing there in the doorway, arms crossed. “Damn, boy, you better just do what you need to do and nothing else. Save that shit for a different time and place. I can work that out at some point. I’m sure there’s an audience for it.”
I bite my lip and watch him grab the black mask and slip it over his head. That’s what made him so mysterious and worth the money. He only put the mask on the first time because he wanted to kill someone. And he didn’t want to hurt Dad’s name. But then he became popular. People paid. Fighters wanted to fight.
Only now, this was different.
He wants to kill. So badly.
“Please, don’t,” I whisper.
He turns, the mask on his face. “Don’t ever fucking tell me what to do.”
The Assassin.
“Rose. Dammit, Rose. Tell me!”
Wes’s voice rumbled through my head like thunder.
So I looked him in the eyes and confessed.
“The Assassin… is Luke. My brother.”
12.
(Wes)
I couldn’t hear. I couldn’t see. I just stood there, at the top of the hill. My hands balled tight into fists. I watched as the cemetery workers lowered the casket down into the grave. There was nothing special about it to them. Just another customer, right? One of the guys stood with his mouth full of chew. His cheek puffed out like a squirrel. He had a shovel in his hand. He stood there with one foot crossed over the other. The other guy was in a machine, lowering the casket, then ready to fill the dirt over Shane.
I’d never see Shane again.
I just saw him an hour ago, before the casket was closed forever.
The guy with the chew turned his head, looked right at the large hole where my brother would be forever. Then I saw a brown line fly from the guy’s mouth to the grave.