“When are you taking care of Mitchell?”
I grip the top of the door, my molars grinding together at the mention of my father.
“Soon,” I grunt, relaxing my fingers. “Real soon.”
He jerks his chin up, giving me a knowing look. He knows of the pictures I’ve been sending for years. He knows the reason behind them; to torment and drive him out of his mind. My revenge against my father started years ago and is more psychological than physical. I’m sure he’s guessed who’s behind the pictures by now. Every person from our past that we’ve killed, he’s received pictures. Along with some of the other sick fucks my brothers and I have taken care of. He doesn’t know when I’ll be coming for him, just that he’s on borrowed time.
And that time is about to come due.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
JUDGE
I STAND IN A DARK CORNER and watch as the silhouette of a man walks across the office, flipping on the small lamp on his desk. The glow of the light isn’t bright enough to reach me, and I quietly recline back against the wall, crossing one ankle over the other. The gears squeak as his portly body settles onto his chair, and he sets a cheap bottle of vodka down on the scarred wood. The laptop he flips open is new, because he shattered the screen of the last one.
Adrenaline pumps through me as he presses a button to bring it to life. For years, I’ve watched him from my own computer, waiting for the day I would do so in person. The last time I had the unwelcome pleasure of being in my father’s presence was the day I left him on the floor of our house, bleeding from the broken nose I gave him, my sobbing mother hovering over him.
That was twenty-four years ago, and the sight of him sickens me just as much as it did back then.
He slides his finger over the mousepad, then taps his fingers over the keyboard. He does this for several minutes before his hands freeze, his eyes locked on the screen. My mouth kicks up at the horror on his face as
the slide show of Billy’s murder comes across the screen.
“Shit,” he whispers hoarsely, frantically grabbing the bottle of vodka and downing several mouthfuls. The alcohol doesn’t stay down long though. A moment later, he’s hurling the liquid back up in a small trash can.
When Ellie and I left the cabin that day, Emo went kind of morbidly nuts on Billy. There wasn’t a strip of his skin that wasn’t marked or peeled away by the time he was done. JW said the sight even left his insides twisted. Billy had to be carried out of the cabin in a body bag.
As Mitchell wipes his mouth with a tissue, I decide it’s time to make myself known.
“The pictures don’t do it justice,” I say, stepping out of the corner. “Hearing his screams and pleas for mercy was much more satisfying.”
The chair bangs against the wall as he jumps up, turning in my direction. Only the tips of my shoes are in the small strip of light on the floor from the lamp, leaving the rest of my form shadowed. He leans forward, a hand on his desk, and squints, trying to see past the darkness shrouding me.
“Who are you?” He tries to make it a demand, but the quiver in his tone gives away his nervousness.
They always ask the same thing. Who are you, and what do you want? Neither of the answers matter.
Taking several steps, I let the light travel up my legs, over my torso, until it shines on my face. His shoulders jerk back, his eyes widening.
“Hello, Dad.”
I trail my fingers along the edge of his desk as I slowly walk across the worn carpet, stopping when they reach the end of the wood directly in front of him. His wary eyes follow me.
“It’s been you,” he says quietly. “You’ve been sending me those pictures.”
“Yes.”
He stands to his full height, which is several inches shorter than me, and takes a step backward. Gripping the back of the chair, he slides behind it, putting it between us like it’ll somehow protect him.
“Why?”
Stuffing my hands in my pockets, I take the two steps that put me behind the desk and lean my ass against it. The chair rattles as he turns it to stay in front of him.
I glance down at it, then lift my eyes back to him, raising a brow. “You really think that’ll save you?”
“What do you want?”
And there we have the second question.