Samson grips my shoulder. “I know, brother.”
Guilt propels me out of the room. The cops grab me, but I break free, and hit the street running. By the time I bargeinto Frank’s office, I want revenge. My mother’s death wrecked me. I want my father to pay for what he did.
“These tragedies made you tough—maybe too tough.”
Another flash of light and we’re in a narrow, dark alley.
I knew exactly where to find my father. I’d spent plenty of nights dragging him home from his sleazy hangout.
I call him out to the alley, and we face each other, father and son.
“You finally did it,” I said. “You finally killed her.”
“She was nothing but a worthless tramp.”
“Shut up.” My hand shakes as I point the gun at my father.
“You don’t have the balls to pull the trigger,” my father taunts, “‘cause you’re useless like that cunt mother of yours.”
I hold the gun with both hands to control the shaking.
My father spews out a mean, harsh laugh. It’s the last sound he ever made.
A shot rings out a second before his knees buckle. His eyes register one emotion: shock.
Footsteps, then Frank steps to my side and slips the gun from my limp hand. “I didn’t think you’d be able to do it, kid.”
I stare at my father’s limp body, then nudge him with my foot.
“Don’t worry; he’s dead.” Frank unscrews the silencer from his gun. “You don’t take a shot like that and live.”
“I didn’t know you followed me.”
“I figured you might need some help.” Frank holsters his gun.
“I wanted to do it but . . .”
“That’s why I came for backup.” Frank cups my shoulder. “The first time is the hardest. Then it gets easier.” Frank eases the gun out of my hand, then nudges me down the alley. “Get outta here and let me take care of it.”
I stare at my father’s limp body.
No more guilt.
No more anger.
Freedom.
“Why are you doing this to me?” I huff out a breath. “Living it once was bad enough.”
“Yeah, I know, it sucks,” Samson says. “But since I’m the only one who really knew you then, I got the job.”
Another flash of light and we’re down by the Brooklyn docks.
“Ahhh, shit, not this.” I’m pretty sure I know what’s coming, and it’s bad—real fuckin’ bad.”
“I told you it was gonna be a bumpy ride.”
He nudges me forward until we’re in the warehouse, then Frank’s office. The last night I saw Cheryl ten years ago.
