Page 64 of Outlawed

“You were supposed to go in, get close to her, and find out what we needed to shut this shit down⁠—”

“You failed to mention that you were getting paid to turn the other way. What were you gonna do when I found out? Take me out, place the blame on me?”

He looks away, but I’m not dumb. I know how this motherfucker thinks.

“I was gonna give you a cut⁠—”

I slam the butt of the gun against his temple, making his head whip to the side from the force.

“Bullshit. You needed a patsy. But you severely underestimated my woman, and you sure as fuck underestimated me.”

“I should have fucking told her who you really are when I raided her ranch,” he spits.

“Yeah, you should have. Why’d you think I stayed back? I knew if you saw me, you wouldn’t be able to resist.”

“I still could have told her.”

“Nah, you like having the upper hand too much. You thought I’d be the ace in your pocket. It wasn’t too late to lay blame at my feet, so you couldn’t afford to burn me until then. You just weren’t banking on all that info from Derek being bullshit. Now people would question everything you’d say. I guess I wasn’t the first person to shoot you in the foot. You were.”

“So what are you gonna do now? Turn me in and pretend you were innocent in all this? That’s not gonna fucking fly. We both know I sent you in unsanctioned. I didn’t tell anyone I was putting you in play. As far as they’re all concerned, you’re getting downtime after being deep undercover with DOJ’s organized crime unit for the last eight years….” his voice trails off as I grin.

“Exactly. I went to Corvis Wing as a favor to an old friend, even though my head was in a fucked-up place. A week before you approached me, I thought about eating a bullet. The things I’ve seen, the shit I’d done. It was all there, every time I closed my fucking eyes. I’ve got so much blood on my hands, I’ll never wash them clean. Hell, I’ve spent more time playing a criminal than I ever spent being a cop. I figured if I did this favor for you, it might tip the scales a little, make me feel like a good guy for a change because my badge sure as fuck didn’t make me feel like one.”

I shake my head. “One look at her and I was done. Nothing else mattered. Not what I’d done, not who I’d let myself become. I was fucking choking, man, and she was like a shot of air to my lungs.”

“How poetic. So you fucked over a lifetime of being a cop for a dirty little⁠—”

I shoot him in the shoulder, making him scream like a bitch.

“You motherfucker. You won’t get away with this.”

“Of course I will. As far as the DOJ is concerned, I’m burned out. I made sure I failed my psych evaluation so they’d let me retire early. They have no idea where I am now, and they don’t care, as long as I keep my nose clean.”

I lean closer, letting him see the psycho in my smile. “I learned a lot of shit living in the criminal underbelly for almost a decade. Like how to adapt, how to survive, and how to kill without letting my conscience get in the way. Did you honestly think I’d let you walk right in and hurt her?”

“I didn’t think you’d care. You don’t care about anything. It’s the nature of the job.”

“Yeah, but that’s just it, Beckett. I’m more than my fucking job. But Calliope was the first person in my whole fucking life that saw something other than violence and chaos in me.”

“So what now? You threaten me to stay away and keep my mouth shut, or you’ll make me pay?” he hisses, as he presses his hand to his bleeding shoulder.

“I think we’re way past that, don’t you?”

His eyes widen a fraction as he realizes I’m serious—that I didn’t come out here to warn him to stay away. I came out here to make sure of it.

“You can’t⁠—”

I press the gun to his head. “I like to think of it as doing my bit for the community. This way, not only is my secret safe, so is Calliope and Hannah. And right now, that’s all that matters.”

“She’ll be your downfall,” he croaks, resignation in his gaze.

“Probably. But what a way to go.” I fire. The bullet rips through his skull and brain matter before he flies back, eyes open, shock etched into what is left of his face at the moment of death.

I throw him over my shoulder before I get to my feet and carry him deeper into the woods. There was a reason he was carrying a rifle. This area is rife with wild animals that will tear his carcass apart, limb from limb. Once I’ve walked far enough, I drop him to the ground and stare down at the man I once thought of as a friend. We went through the academy together, and though we ended up in different fields, we stayed in touch. I expected to feel more, taking his life, but knowing he’d always be a threat to Calliope and the life we’ve built, I feel nothing but relief.

I walk away without a backward glance, heading into Beckett’s cabin, where I shower and change into some of his clothes. I bag up the bloody ones I wore here and take them with me as I head back to the truck. I toss them on the passenger seat and head out, turning the radio on low as I drive.

Three hours later, I pull into the Waste-to-Energy facility, pull my badge from the secret compartment in my glove box, and flash it at the security guard at the gate. He waves me through with a bored expression. I wonder if he’d still be bored if he knew I was here to dispose of bloody clothes and a murder weapon.