I practically sprint to the bar. My fast strides chop up my words when I say, “Scarlett won’t talk. Joseph called me Moose—”
“I don’t care if he called you Jesus, you don’t leave witnesses—ever!” A rustle sounds down the line, as if he is cupping the receiver. “Send Micha. We have more than just a body to clean.”
His message isn’t for me; it is for his right-hand man, Charles.
“Dexter. . .” My father drawls my name in a long, derogative slur, ensuring I can’t miss his fuming anger.
“Yes,” I answer without pause.
I do not cower from prosecution. I encourage it. His retribution will make me a better man. It will strengthen and condition me for the cruelty of life. He didn’t beat me when I was young to be mean. He did it so no one else could ever break me. I don’t feel pain; I absorb it. Even the slice of Megan’s blade when it skimmed across my skin didn’t register. If it weren’t for the faint trickle of blood dribbling down my neck, I wouldn’t have realized she nicked me.
I freeze.Nick.Is that why Megan denied my advance? Because she didn’t want to cheat on Nick? If so, I’m even more annoyed I succumbed to the voices in my head. Nick may have millions of dollars in his bank account, a wife with model looks, and the standard one son-one daughter combination every American family strives to achieve, but he isn’t half the man I am. He’s not even one tenth!
I was certain Megan’s obsession with Nick had shifted to me. She barely reacted when she saw his photo earlier tonight. I put it in my glove compartment as a test. She passed.
Well, I thought she did.
Maybe I can’t read her as well as I thought I could? That annoys me even more than her pulse weakening under my touch.
I stop imagining the life in Nick’s eyes vanishing via my grip when my father asks, “Is your new pet pure, Son?”
My throat works hard to swallow a lump before I answer, “Yes.”
I don’t need to see my father to know he is smiling. I can feel his gleam from where I am standing.
“Bring her to the stables. It is time for you to repay your debt.” He pauses to dramatize his last sentence. “If you’re not here by sundown Sunday, I’ll send out the vultures.”
With that, he hangs up the phone, confident I will never go against his command.
I won’t. Even a man as powerful as me knows I am a mere peasant when it comes to a god like my father. I will obey his rules. I always have. Meaning, in just under thirty-six hours, Megan will go from being hunted by the authorities to being hunted by Death himself.
