“No, you won’t kill him at all unless the girlfriend asks you to. And she ain’t gonna do that.”
He stalks to his bike, gets on and roars away.
I stand for a moment breathing in the night air. I just killed two men and felt nothing. What does that say about me? They deserved it, yeah, because they threatened the woman I love, threatened my kids. When I killed the eight men that raped Chloe, my rage was overwhelming.
But I was young then, just a guy trying to make a living to support his family. Lost after what happened to Chloe. Not a killer, but a naive man who believed in the law and the greater good.
Now, I’m a killer. I know the law is bullshit. Justice is personal, a shortcut to the inadequate punishment that takes years for the courts to mete out.
I let Chloe down. I won’t make that mistake with Selkie.
I get on my bike as I think about Selkie and Chloe. They’re polar opposites. Selkie never blinked an eye when I essentially told her I was a serial killer. Chloe would have freaked out.
Selkie would never kill herself, no matter what happened to her. She’d kill the fucks herself.
Selkie would never abandon Henri.
I let the bitterness of the past wash through me and disappear. Two different women. Two women I love. My heart aches for Chloe, but my heart beats for Selkie.
When I get back to the house, I strip and crawl into bed. Selkie turns and snuggles into my arms. “Did you kill someone?” she asks in a sleepy voice.
I decide to be honest. She’ll figure it out anyway when she hears the news. “Kozlov and Renfrew.”
“Good,” she murmurs. “The bastards deserved it.” She feels nothing for them either.
I decide to dive in. “I was gonna kill Jonny Fry but decided not to.”
“Good again,” she murmurs, her body as relaxed as it was before.
I resent the fact that Hangman was right. “Why good? He’s the one who started this shit.”
“Yeah. He’s a prick.” She still hasn’t fully woken up. “But you can’t kill him.”
“Why.”
“He’s Henri’s grandfather. You kill him, Henri finds out, she’ll hate you. Doesn’t matter that he’s a prick.”
“She doesn’t even know him.”
“Which is worse, because she’ll idealize him.”
I pull her in close and kiss the top of her head. “Yeah,” I say as I close my eyes. “You’re right.”
Epilogue
Eight
Selkie and I are lying in bed, arms wrapped around each other, talking about nothin’. Oscar and Henri are back in school. Have been for two weeks and all seems well on that front. Their absence has given Selkie and me time to explore our relationship and fuck without having to keep it down.
“I want you to move in with me,” I say to her.
“I wanna move in with you,” she replies.
It’s the same thing we’ve said to each other every day for the past couple of weeks.
I’m teasing her nipple, getting ready to nibble it, when her phone rings. “Shit,” she says as she stands. “I left my phone in the kitchen.”
Her perfect ass sways as she walks out of the bedroom. I make plans about what I’m gonna do with it over the next half-hour.
