Part 26 (2/2)

My mind pieces together one reaction at a time. Hangar hated me when I arrived. He knew who I was. He touched Casey, knowing what she was to me. The 'M' on his carved stomach. The same with his owners.h.i.+p of Dee Dee and the abuse she suffered at his hands.

Pulling me from my thoughts, Hoss starts in with terseness in his voice. ”I told you about a girl he loved years ago. He used to hang around at the convenience store where she worked. He cared about her.”

”So, he f.u.c.king killed her?” I snap out, still processing what's been said.

My gaze turns to Hangar. He's standing limp, the rope holding his weight. His hands are losing color since he's no longer able to balance on his own.

Hoss' next statement comes out more forceful than the last. ”He told her he'd make her happy, but she refused him. Marie was the only woman I'd ever seen Hangar care about.”

”Of course she refused him, Hoss! He's a s.a.d.i.s.tic f.u.c.k and you protected him,” I rage, hearing it echo and reverberate throughout the room.

”He's Ursa's son,” Hoss snaps back in return. ”And he's my family.”

”He's a killer who abuses women,” Viktor puts in. ”Ursa would be ashamed.”

Without further processing the events that have unfolded and without caring what happens to me after, I launch from where I stand and head in Hoss' direction. Cilas reacts quickly, moving to stand in front of him before I'm able to get there.

Using all of this strength, Cilas holds me at arm's length, away from Hoss as I blast, not caring about the consequences, ”You knew! You f.u.c.king knew he butchered my sister. Everything you said about Marie before was bulls.h.i.+t!”

”It wasn't,” Hoss' voice, now seemingly soft and haunted, breaks out. ”I told you what I knew of Marie when you came to Creed the first time. And I stand by what I said. She was a good girl.”

”Like Casey?” Viktor voices from behind me, his disposition far more collected than mine.

When I feel my body being jolted, pushed further back from the man I hate almost as much as his son, I look up to Cilas. His eyes are dark, hooded, and as always, angered.

”You knew, too,” I accuse him.

Cilas shakes his head in return, but I don't believe him. And it wouldn't matter if I did.

”Max,” Viktor calls for my attention. ”Do not lower yourself to the standards of these men. It wasn't Hoss who took your Marie from you. It was Hangar.”

Turning my glare toward Hangar then back to Viktor, I see Viktor holding the knife in my direction. ”When I told you I owed you for what you did for Anna, I meant it. But more, I want more from you.”

”What the f.u.c.k could I possibly give you?” I snap.

Viktor nods. ”Your loyalty or your life. Your allegiance to me, as promised, or you'll never see Casey again. At least not in this life, anyway.”

Closing my eyes, I picture Marie. Her face, smiling happily, hits my memory as my chest constricts, taking my breath with it.

Can't say I understand why someone would take away all that beauty the way they did. Hoss' words sink in as I remember what he said when I first came to Creed.

Visions of my parents' desolate faces rush my veins, causing my blood to heat within them.

My dad, even after all these years away, understood my pain. We all deal with loss our own way. You've been dealin' with it on your own for a while, I suspect.

Casey's small form, wrapped so desperately around mine, unknowingly begging me to protect her.

I tried so hard to keep her safe, to give her a chance at a life outside of this one. I'll call you 'monkey' if you don't mind, though. It suits you.

Marie's lifeless body, losing its blood, losing her soul, which she once so strongly carried.

You still miss her, Em had so rightfully observed.

Every day, Em. I think about her and it still hurts.

Pus.h.i.+ng Cilas off, I move back toward Viktor. I grab the knife by the blade, feeling it pierce my skin as my fingers wrap around it. Then I make my way to Hangar. His death should be prolonged, the torture of it sweet. I know this, but he doesn't deserve another breath.

Once I've ripped the gag from his mouth, his head jerks and slowly lifts to mine.

”Say it,” I seethe, moving my face closer to his. ”Tell me what you did to her.”

A slow, creeping smile, even in the midst of his own certain death, begins to form around his words and sickens my already furious disposition. ”I played with her a while,” he tells me, as if he's bragging. My hand grips the blade, my mind forcing back images as he voices his next confession. ”She cried out. She asked for her daddy. By the time I finished with her, people in this town had no choice but to believe it was a street gang or some serial-killing drifter who did it.” With his smile still in place, he laughs softly. ”Even almost dead, though, she still asked for you.”

All the cover-ups, lies, and torturous deceit come to me at once. I reach out, grasp his hair in a rough pull, and while looking into the eyes of an already near dead man, the blade in my hand rips through his skin, exposing his now open throat completely.

I don't hear the despair rus.h.i.+ng out of Hoss as he wails into the room. Nor do I hear Viktor clapping behind me in congratulations. I don't listen for Cilas, his boots. .h.i.tting the floor in my direction.

I only hear Marie's voice calling to me, telling me her murdered soul has finally been set free.

The heavy, invisible chains of tragedy, loss, and regret have been unlocked, yet I still don't feel free.

Chapter Thirty-One.

”Come here, Em,” I clip my demand again, not taking her relevant concern regarding my mood into consideration.

”What's wrong?” she asks as she stands in the kitchen and carefully watches me wait near the front door.

Em knows me, so it's not hard for her to sense something isn't right. Because of this, my body aches to be close to her, to connect with her in a way it always has before. She has the power to bring life back into my spiritually shattered body.

I'm drowning in a sea of self-loathing and doubt.

And I can't f.u.c.king breathe.

After I left Creed, thoughts of my past life held fast to the forefront of my mind. I couldn't drum up any good memories as the bad ones one remained so clear and untouched.

Before coming home, I drove past my parents' house. Picturing the two of them, sitting on their porch swing, drinking iced tea in the sun as they watched Marie and me play catch or ride our bikes near them, were all but lost in the haze of mental anguish as only visions of her funeral and saying goodbye were left at full attention.

Driving by the place where Marie was left years ago didn't help. Her body left behind, brutalized and buried, that winter morning was all I accepted as I stared at her stone from the road leading up to her final resting place. I couldn't even muster the strength to tell her she was finally free.

By then, the only place I wanted to be was home with Emma.

When I rounded my bike into the apartment complex, my hands were shaking with mental exhaustion and my heart was throbbing in brazen pain. I'd never experienced anything like that before. It was foreign and unwanted.

I took a man's life tonight. Although it was a life that shouldn't have been spared, he died at my hands nonetheless.

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