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“What are you waiting for, Alerion?” Remington asked, loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Get it done, Uncle A. Get it over with!” the fragrance lover, who could be smelled above the blood and violence, called over from the crowd. “He’s never been anything but fucking trouble.”
Alerion nodded. He took a giant step back, dragging Remington with him.
Remington’s hands still clutched at the rope. A stray tear fell from his cold, golden stare. He remained silent. Grass stains spread across the ass pockets of his denims. Alerion fixed the rope to the back of the van.
“Who wants to drive it at full speed?” I could have sworn his gaze was fixed on me, probably familiar with the fact I’d played no part in the abuse. For that reason, I held up my hand and caught the keys when he threw them my way.
I walked around the crowd, weighing how much this man’s life meant to me. Was it enough to give up everything? Should I just crash and kill us both and pray that my real reason for doing all this—my poor kidnapped girl—could find her way from hell alone?
I couldn’t.
I had to kill him.
“Wait, Alerion!” Badeaux interjected, stepping forward. “You can’t kill him. He’s baiting you.”
Remington’s smile grew, the right side more than the left, crinkling his scar.
“What?”
“Kill me,” he taunted again. “I dare you. I beg you.”
Alerion, with his hands still on the rope, yanked again, silencing the smug fucker he had on a leash.
“He cannot die.”
“Why the fuck not?”
Badeaux moved in again, followed by the agent, who said, “The press. The world will want answers. They won’t forget him.”
“We can make him disappear. No one will find him.”
“But they’ll never stop looking.” Remington’s agent stepped closer. “You kill him, and he becomes eternal. There will forever be a person who’ll want to find him.”
“But they won’t find him. They’ve never found any of them.”
“He isn’t some disposable girl, Alerion. He’s not a loner who has no one in the world. There is only one of him, and he is loved by millions.”
Alerion took in all the words and still ignored them all. “Get in the van,” he told me, his voice as cold as death.
Remington’s scary as fuck smile moved to me. “Say hi to your cell mate before he edges his dick into your ass, pretty-boy. Don’t forget to ask his name so you know what to scream when he blows his load on your back and you’re begging him not to do it again.”
That bloody smile left my view as Remington dramatized the light slap I’d gifted his head.
I got into the van, staring out into the mirror as I belted up. A conversation was still going on, but I couldn’t hear anything.
“Fuck.” I started the engine. The new vehicle roared to life. I prayed for a struggle, a reason, an excuse to get the fuck out and say I couldn’t do it, but there wasn’t one, so I released the parking brake, and I put my foot down, driving towards an opening in the trees that led the way out.
A tear slipped down my cheek.
“FUCK!” I screamed at the top of my lungs when I was surely out of earshot. My foot turned to lead, picking up speed, darting through the trees and out of sight.
Punches assaulted the steering wheel, and I continued to scream.
Buried in the blackness of night, cloaked by hundreds of trees, my lead foot moved to the brake, and I forced it down. And with the parking brake applied, I left the engine running as I jumped from the van and rushed around it.
Remington’s head was against the back doors, his body limp, lifeless.
