This all seemed ill-advised now that it stood before me. But I didn’t come that far to turn back when I hit the goal.
I did my best to look inconspicuous. My heart raced and I was pretty sure they had to hear it from fifty yards away. I also had the crippling nervous urge to go to the bathroom, but I couldn’t exactly ask for a bathroom, then carry out my plan.
Shit was for later. And I could wash my hands in a stream or something. No DNA. Aqua dump. Was that ethical? Sure, deer shit in streams.
And there are buffalo on the island. People should be way more worried about their shit.
I pretended to take some cell phone pictures on the burner phone that was going to be a whale’s dinner later.
Relax, the whale would be fine.
Okay, fine, I worried about the whale.
And turtles and shit.
But what better place to dispose of a burner than the Pacific? Biggest fucking ocean on the planet.
I’d make a big donation to the Ocean Fund or the Save the Whales or something later.
My PI buddy had gotten me an aerial shot of the encampment with an exact location of Bryce’s tent and the makeshift kitchen. The trick was getting him alone. I’d already premeditated that one. I had a call going out to the conservancy about a rogue buffalo attempting to impale a tourist that would require urgent attention from hopefully just enough people.
It worked. Bryce was alone in the kitchen, putting together sandwiches for work crews. The little twat had the nerve to be carefully crushing up some spice to go on top of the turkey sandwiches, which made me roll my eyes. I tied the handkerchief over my mouth and nose, put on some gardening gloves, slipped the hockey tape roll into my pocket along with the knife, and approached him. I opened the tent flap and stepped inside.
“Well, well, well,” I started. “This sure doesn’t seem like Nepal.”
Bryce’s eyes widened and he flattened his back against the piece of stainless steel serving as his countertop. “What? The fuck? Why are you here?”
“The piper. Come to call.” Fuck, I had rehearsed this. My nerves were getting the better of me. “It’s time to pay the piper.”
“What? What do you want?”
I stepped closer to him. “I want you to either be a better father or get the fuck out of our lives.”
“If this is about the money, I don’t have any to give her.” He said it like he was trying to seem big and bad, but he cowered despite being taller than me.
“It’s not about the money, asswipe. It’s simple, really. Either call when you say you’re going to and own up to the fact that you’re in California and be part of their lives, or fuck off for good. None of this half-assed shit.”
He recoiled. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
Let the games begin.
I reared back and launched my fist into his cheekbone, and after a shocked moment, he came right back for me.
Bryce might have played hockey in college, but I was still an active player with a lot more fights under my belt. I hit him with a cross punch, hook, then upper cut that sent him flying back against the stainless steel countertop behind him. While he was wheezing, I socked him again in the eye.
He wasn’t completely defenseless, and he launched his fist into my stomach, sending me doubling over.
I’d been down this road before. The rage that filled me when that kid mocked JP coursed through my veins again. My control was slipping, some animal instinct starting to take over.
Bryce hurt Aspen.
Bryce hurt Mara.
Bryce had to hurt and I had to do it.
But I had to fight the darker urges. I was not there to kill him.
I punched him in the groin and shoved his teetering body to the ground, then flipped him to his stomach. I pinned hislower back under my knee and reached into my pocket to get the hockey tape.
