chapter 26
NO REMORSE
Graham
I didn’t watchMaggie as she started on the path back to the manor. Didn’t want to take my eyes off Hunter, even as her footsteps echoed in the darkening night.
They told us back in police training to never let your emotions in when you were dealing with a killer. Only shoot in defense. Only kill if necessary.
It was fucking necessary.
I stepped around Hunter. Pacing. Each step, like the hands of a clock, marking the timeline on my decision as to what was going to happen next.
Every time I looked at him, I wanted to end him. Take what he took from over a dozen women—as far as we knew. I didn’t want to risk the lawyers he had access to. He wouldn’t even flinch at the money he’d hemorrhage trying to win a plea deal with this one.
If I did it here, I’d have to clean up the evidence. Outside would be better. The elements could do most of the work. Needed to be a place he frequented. A place that made sense.
The bike trail.
Yes.
He was always there. The perfect accident.
God, what are you doing, Locke? You’re plotting. Plotting makes you guilty. Plotting makes you like him… Like Donovan…
I shut my thoughts off… but maybe I shouldn’t have. But I had to. Because everything they said meant Hunter lived to try again.
Do it fast, Locke. Don’t let it drag on.
Pulling back the tarp revealed his beaten body. Blood stained his face and hands. No time right now. Even if he was only 160 pounds, carrying him plus his mountain bike onto the bike trail at night wasn’t an easy feat.
It was awkward.
But I didn’t care.
Reason said to follow protocol, collect the evidence, cuff him, put him in jail. But my heart told me a different story, one that said to put him away for good. Where the right lawyer or judge couldn’t touch him. And the only place I knew that wasn’t touched by a corrupt justice system… was six feet under.
I propped Hunter up against a stump halfway up the hill. His breathing was quick, with short gasps of air fighting to enter his lungs.
“Must’ve broken a few ribs when you hit that rock during your most recent crash there, bud… Those icy spots will sneak up on ya,” I said, picking up a heavy stick—more like a small log—one I couldn’t wrap both hands around—and swung. It landed right where it hurt. “Your bike slid right off the side of the hill. And then once you left the trail, you hit almost every”—I struck him again— “damn tree… and a few boulders on the way down.” I palmed a fist-sized rock and chucked it hard at his face.
He barely moved. His breathing—labored.
God, what the fuck was I doing?
I couldn’t kill him like this.
I turned away from him, both hands on my head, staring into the trees. Searching for an answer. I had to think. Right now, it looked like Hunter had crashed his bike in a bike park he frequented regularly. This was good. But I’d have to take his bike up top and throw it down—it’d probably get caught up in some trees or the brush or something. I’d haveto cover my tracks. Not many hiked up there, and the patchy snow didn’t help my situation.
Shit.
I couldn’t let the bastard get off on a reduced sentence for good behavior. Not after he did that to them. Not after what he did to her.
The crisp leaves crunched under my boots, muffled only slightly by the light layer of snow covering them.
“You know,” Hunter groaned, blood curdling in each broken breath, “she’s not like the others.” He let out a wet cough. “She’s a fighter.”
My face twisted, rage burning behind my eyes. I could feel just how fucking evil I must’ve looked, because in that moment, after that fucking confession… The only thing I wanted was to use my bare hands to rip out his throat just for thinking about them.
