She’s cataloguing the room, and I’m cataloguing her. Noting that she’s dressed right, hair covered and wearing gloves.
I know then that Uncle Sean and Aunt Jess know she’s here. This is the final test.
Can she cope with this life, or will she need to be disposed of? My heart’s beating double time as I wait.
Moira will be the one that decides the outcome of her fate, depending on her reaction to seeing me in work mode.
The reason they call me Butcher.
Not that I have any remorse when it comes to this work. I’ll miss it when I stop. There is no doubt that I’d stop for her, but something in me is a little broken because I’m not sure what kind of man I’ll be without being able to take out the trash.
I guess we’d be finding out if I was completely retired, partially retired, or not retired at all. Well, we would as soon as Moira let me know how she felt about me killing for a living.
I’m not sure if Moira was aware when she set out tonight how much the rest of our lives depended on her reaction to seeing me at work.
My breath gushes out of me, and I sigh with relief as she evenly speaks. “A rapist, huh?”
CHAPTER 18
MOIRA
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. After tonight, we’d all know if I was capable of living this life or not.
I knew I was. My nervousness wasn’t about what my choice would be, it was that I had to prove to Butcher and his family that I was.
And that’s what he was tonight; Tonight, he was Butcher. He wasn’t my loving, kind, gentle Andy. I knew the man I’d be seeing tonight was the man that nightmares were made of if you were on the wrong side of him. But I also knew he was the man that made sure that those that survived never had to face their tormentor again, and those that died got their revenge in the afterlife.
I was arriving later than I’d intended to. I’d got a little lost and travelled miles out of my way after the crew Sean had sent with me dropped away and I’d continued alone. It had been a while before I’d realised there were two roads with similar names, and I’d taken the wrong one.
Once I realised that I’d made a mistake, I’d turned around and now I was parking alongside a car I didn’t recognise. There was only one light on in the house. I assumed that’s where they would be.
I stopped to make sure my gloves were on nice and tight, and that my hat covered all my hair. Getting out of the car, I gently closed the door, not wanting to make too much noise.
It was a clear night with the stars bright in the sky. Any other night, I’d have enjoyed taking a minute to enjoy it and breathe the clean air, but not tonight.
Tonight, I had business to take care of.
I climbed the stairs to the small porch and noted the disposable shoe covers left there. Taking a pair, I slipped them over my shoes before grasping the handle of the door in my hand and turning it. It opened easily under my hand.
Taking a deep breath, I murmur, “It’s now or never Moira. Pull up those big girl pants and show your man you’re made for this life.”
Pushing open the door, I continue with my pep talk. “Well, here goes nothing.”
Closing the door, I stand still, listening. I can hear him, and I know which room he’s in as there is only one light on in the whole house. I’m assuming he’s armed, and I don’t want to get shot, so I call his name. “Butcher!”
Surprisingly, I hear another voice in the room with him. I’d assumed he worked alone. Maybe I was wrong. I can hear the resignation in his voice when he calls out.
“In here, sunshine.”
Walking towards the room he called from, I stop in the doorway and look around the room. My eyes bounce around the walls, taking in every photo of the atrocities the fucker they have bent over a chair had done. Along with the photos are newspaper articles and words cataloguing all his sins, and there were many.
When I’m done with them, I look at the two men covered head to toe in overalls that are covered in blood, disposable glasses covering their eyes. There isn’t an inch of skin showing, but I’d know my man anywhere.
My gaze darts to the man they’ve got bent over a chair. I can only assume they’re going to do to him what he’s done to so many and never been punished for.
Strangely enough, the sight of his blood doesn’t bother me. Not with all his transgressions lined up on the walls for me to see.The little girls and boys interspersed with a few women and young men.
Yeah, I have no problem with the punishment they’re meting out on the fecker. I hope they make it hurt.
