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Chapter Forty-Seven
DEAN
Ipeer through one eye. The sound of the gun mixed with the splattering of brain against the ground, forces my jaw to the floor. Costa’s right-hand man stands over his boss’ corpse, looking down at the fragments of his skull now coating the gravel.
Scraping a hand through my hair, I watch as he bends his legs with his elbows resting on his knees, then scoops the tip of his finger through the remnants of the bloodied mass he once took orders from.
What. The. Fuck.
My stomach flips when he turns to face us, lifting his finger to his line of vision. He stands as he inspects the squelching matter in the dim night light, pressing his forefinger to his thumb repeatedly. The sound makes the glands in my throat, swell.
As if realising all eyes are on him, he quickly wipes his hand on the side of his trousers, making my jaw lower even more. “Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he clicks his teeth, shaking his head. Deranged. “This was neverhisplan. I’m sick of him taking credit formywork.” He points to Costa’s body. “Liar.”
He holds out his hand for Vincent, completely unperturbed when Vincent doesn’t react; too confused, too in shock like therest of us. “Well, come on.” He smiles, pleased with himself as he drags Vincent by the elbow.
I see Billy and the other Saviour inch closer in my peripherals.
Like a ferris wheel, time moves slowly like a never-ending cycle before me. My mind can’t work out what the fuck is happening. He killed Costa; the man leading this entire operation.
“Look. Do you like it?” The man turns his palm to the sky, waving it over Costa as Vincent looks down at me for help. I have no words. My eyes manage to find Travis, but that’s it. “Well?” He nudges Vincent, urging him to speak.
“Who the fuck are you?” Vincent asks, his voice heavy with uncertainty.
The man mutters as though deep in conversation with himself, his head bobbing from side to side in sharp, quick-fire movements. Then he looks at me square on, his shoulders instantly dropping. I see it; like being released from a straitjacket, I see the moment things shift.
Snap. The deranged man is gone. He vanishes before my eyes with one blink.
Holding himself much steadier, he slowly draws his hand to his pocket, removes a pair of glasses, then places them on his face.
Fuck.I think it’s him.
He runs a hand through his hair as though wiping away the last persona. “Who the fuck am I?” He grins. “I'm Cain. Maybe he remembers me?” he says confidently, gesturing towards me. I hear him take a steadying breath as he undoes his suit jacket, cocking his head ever so slightly to one shoulder, the movement unnerving.
I go to look at Travis. “There’s no use looking at him. He wasn’t there.” He waves a finger, his voice calm, no longer jumpy.
My heart drops. “Where?” I question knowingly. I shift on my knees, keeping my voice calm, even though my insides are anything but.
The corner of his mouth raises. Licking his lips, he then lowers his chin. “Let’s rewind time.” He coughs, and when he speaks again, I’m gripped by white hot rage. “There were two of you in the woods,” he says, his Australian accent no longer masked.
“You son of a bitch.” I grit my teeth hearing Travis curse under his breath. This cunt’s responsible for killing my aunt all those years ago. I don’t know where Jack is or whether he’s still watching, but I sure as hell know this bastard’s dead. If not Jack, I’ll be the one to make sure he meets his end.
“That’s it,” he chides, his voice cackling with a psychotic edge. He bends his legs, looking at me with disdain. “The memories come flooding back, don’t they?”
A vortex of burning flames slash at my skin as my demons fight for their freedom. I close my eyes, still able to picture the scene before me. My aunt’s body. Jack’s cry. It rings so loudly in my head like a jolt of lightning throwing me back into the pits I fought so hard to escape from. I’d almost left this behind me. Almost accepted there was nothing more we could have done to save her. Once again, I’m clawing for the edge, desperately trying to hold on to my sanity.
“Shall I tell you how she screamed? How she begged for her life.” He speaks slowly. Threateningly. Dark.
I’m on my feet, Travis shadowing my move. We barely make it a foot closer to him before we’re both grabbed from behind, a gun pressed firmly to the back of our heads.
“No! No! No!” he shouts again, like a madman not getting his own way. “You don’t move unlessIfucking say you can.” He swings his boot, winding me.
Pain courses through my ribs as I bend. The scatty,delusional man is back. But so are my demons. “Her screams will be nothing compared to yours,” I cough, my eyes gluing to his.
“Dean,” Travis warns, as I slow my struggle with the man holding me. I’m going to goad this motherfucker until he snaps. If he’s found the farm, found Jack and his men who were waiting, then what else is left to do but fight. We’re not getting out of here, that much is clear. If this is it, we go down swinging.
The man laughs, sucking his teeth. “This part’s my favourite.” One of his eyes twitches. “Here.” He holds out his gun to Vincent. “A gift to you. Pick one.”
My eyes dart to Vincent’s as Travis and I struggle. He doesn’t move. He’s just as fucked as we are, even if the clown to his left seems to favour him.
