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I get my uncle out of the car, dragging him to the truck's hitch. Leaving him crawling around on the ground, I grab some rope from the back of the truck.
I kick him in the side with my boot and he collapses to the ground. “This would be a lot easier on both of us if you stopped moving.”
“What are you going to do to that man?” the truck driver asks, his voice heavy with concern.
“Don't worry. He hardly qualifies as one,” Gunner says, forcing the guy into the back of the car.
I wait until the door is closed before securing my uncle's hands to the back of the truck that didn’t have a driver. As he kicks and screams, I rush to the truck I have the keys for and move it where I need it to be, close enough for his feet to reach.
“No,” my uncle yells. “This isn't you. You don't have it in you to kill someone on your own.”
I laugh and reach for his ankles. “That's where you're wrong. I've always had it in me. I just needed the right person to bring it out, and here we are.”
I tie his ankles to the other truck's door handle. “Time to go for a short ride.”
“Wait,” he calls after me. “We can make a deal.”
I glance down at him, my lips twisting. “I'm done with your fucking deals.”
I hurry toward the passenger side of the truck I have the keys to and start the engine. Laughing loudly, I pull forward, slowly at first, while listening to my uncle's screams. They're beautiful and cathartic. I stomp on the gas until the noise is replaced with silence.
Shoving the door open, I turn off the truck and get out. My uncle's guts and blood cover the ground between the two trucks. His pupils are blown and mouth agape, the top and bottom parts of his body both hanging limp on the ground ripped in half. I pull a Christmas Tree Cake from my pocket and toss it next to him, wanting to spread a little holiday cheer everywhere I go.
I glance around me before heading for the car. “You can let the man go now.”
Gunner shakes his head. “He'll talk if I do.”
“He won't.”
“How do you know?”
I hold up the man's wallet. “Because I know where his family lives. I don't think he'll want to find out what will happen to his wife and kids if the cops try to come after me.”
Gunner sighs, nodding. “I'll get the mess cleaned up then and send the man on his way. Take the car and stay low until we know where your cousin is.”
“You think he was in on this?”
Gunner shrugs. “Possibly. He is his son.”
“You and I both know that doesn't mean shit.”
“Yeah. You're right. I still don't trust him, though.” He reaches for the phone and the man next to him is frozen against the door, his eyes overtaken with fear.
“How will you get anywhere?” I ask, opening the door.
“I'll call for a ride. Besides, I can't do all this work on my own.”
Gunner is good at cleaning up any mess but he’s much faster with help. I know because I've assisted him many times before. We make the perfect team. We also understand each other on a different level than anyone else. He’s helping me seek out my revenge while also getting his own in return.
Gunner steps out of the car with the truck driver, glancing back at me one more time before shutting the door. “Be careful. Keep letting them see what you want them to. Especially him.”
I nod and move into the driver’s seat, remembering all the words we said to each other in the beginning of our capture. The promises we made of eventually beating them at their own game.
He was betrayed by someone he thought he could trust as well. The man he was meant to marry sold him to pay for his debt. The same person he ran away with to escape his dangerous family. We were trapped in a cellar together for months, starved and assaulted daily. Occasionally they moved us to rooms and tied us to the beds or pumped us full of drugs before having random strangers come in to satisfy their fantasies.
I shudder at the memories of all the wrong hands on me. I eventually stopped fighting, becoming as weak and helpless as they were expecting me to be until it was time for me to show them I wasn't.
I allow my uncle's words to enter my mind one more time. They were the only thing about him worth remembering. He helped me escape more than he thought.
