“Who could’ve guessed that you and the assassin’s bitch were one and the same. Boss is gonna enjoy playing with you.” He snarls as he looks down on me, then the dirty bastard spits. Thankfully, I manage to flinch away quickly enough to avoid the splatter.
“Your boss can play on the highway for all I care, but he isn’t coming anywhere near me.” Adrenaline is pushing my bravado to the forefront at the mention of the assassin—who I have no doubt is Tanner—and I raise my chin in defiance, despite my inability to move around because of the ropes. My ankles are bound too so I feel like a snake.
Appropriate comparison…because I will bite this motherfucker given half the chance.
“Funny you say that. He’s going to come all fucking over you, inside you, around you…” He pauses and leans down, closer to my face. “Then he’s going to fucking kill you.”
Instinct has me twisting my aching muscles as quickly as I can without breaking my wrists behind me, and I push out my legs, aiming for his family jewels but connecting with his chin instead before he has a chance to straighten himself to standing. The satisfying crunch makes me grin, but it’s short-lived because he kicks his own leg out, my stomach taking the impact.
Breathing becomes difficult and pain radiates from the spot he kicked as unwelcome tears spring to my eyes.
“You’re fucking lucky the boss wants you whole.” Holding on to his chin, he spits again, and this time it doesn’t miss. It lands square on my forehead and I want to vomit. “For now.”
The sound of his laugh grates my bones as he leaves, slamming the door behind him, but I don’t hear a lock.
With my breaths coming in short pants, my cheeks—and forehead—wet, I glare at the space the man occupied, wishing with everything that I am that he would just drop dead. I imagine blood seeping from every hole he possesses, his eyes glazing over…and it helps a little, but I need to figure a way out of this.
After all, I’m supposed to be helping out Karma.
Chapter Twenty-One
Tanner
Age 10
“If that little cunt’s mother doesn’t shut her mouth, I’m going to rip that kid apart with my own bare hands.”
“Shh, Derrick. He’ll hear you.” Too late for that. Dad’s yelling so loud I’m sure Mr. Reeve across the street can hear him.
“I don’t give a fuck. I’mma kill him too.” Mom gasps, and for a second, I wonder if she cares. I also wonder how he’d do it. Would he strangle me? Shoot me? Maybe a knife to the gut so he can watch me bleed. That’s what I’d do. No, that’s what Iwilldo. One day, I’ll kill him with my own bare hands and watch him bleed until there’s nothing left.
“You can’t do that! We’ll lose our benefits.”
“I don’t give a shit, she’s in our business and it’s pissing me off.” My fists tighten even more and my nostrils flare. Grandpa died last month and ever since, Dad’s been losing his mind. I thought it was grief. I mean, even I’m a little sad that he’s gone. He was the only family member who didn’t treat me like crap.
“You could make it look like an accident.” Mom isn’t yelling but I can still hear her because these walls are paper thin. “Shedeserves it after opening her big mouth. We’ll be lucky if Social Services doesn’t show up.”
I step back like I’ve been hit with a bat.
Is she talking about Berkleigh?
No.
She would never betray me like that. We pinky promised.
“She’s a whiny little bitch anyway. It would make the whole fucking neighborhood happy.”
Rage and sadness fight inside my chest and instead of taking Grandpa’s advice and keeping cool and calm, I lose my mind.
“We should send him to your brother’s. Out of sight, out of mind, right?”
Grabbing my butcher knife—I’ve been practicing all year—I run out of my bedroom and straight into Dad. My knife is out and his gut is right there. In the blink of an eye, it sinks in with little effort. I thought it would be harder to stab someone. Turns out it’s a lot easier than I anticipated.
My mom’s scream gets my attention, and before I can enjoy my handywork, I’m being shoved away and pushed into my room.
Did I kill him? Is he bleeding out and I’m missing it? I’m pacing a path across my carpet when Dad storms inside and backhands me so hard I go flying across the bedroom.
Guess I didn’t kill him after all. My last thought before I black out is that my life is only going to get worse after this.
