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Devereaux surprised us once again by having my mother’s ashes brought to us in Montana. We had a small service for her and got her a cemetery plot. I know that Ruby visits her a lot. She doesn’t do anything other than sit there and smile, sometimes running her hand over the plaque with my mother’s name on it, kind of like how she used to hold her hand to make her feel better.
During that time, a plan hatched into my head. I wanted to get revenge for Ruby and punish the men who started the sequence of events that set her on a path of destruction.
I still had some contacts in Texas, and while I was not allowed to set foot there, I could call and ask for favors. Winger was more than happy to travel to Ruby’s hometown and set her parents’ trailer on fire with both of them in it.
When Ruby got notified by it in the mail, she looked emotionless.
“My parents are dead. Their trailer caught on fire,” she told me. “I hope they suffered.”
After that, she never mentioned them again, but she did go visit my mother a little more often than before.
Taking care of the men who raped her when she was in high school took a little more research. By now, they were stand up citizens, at least that’s the image they were trying to portray to the public. Meanwhile, all four of them were cheating on their significant others and drinking or shooting up their money away.
They were all so careless and feeling like they were invincible, they made it too easy for me, even from afar.
The first one died of an accidental overdose in the parking lot of a seedy bar. Since he was a newlywed, he left behind a heartbroken young and pregnant widow who inherited all of his money. Having had friends in very low places helped out a lot in this instance, and I didn’t even have to pay that much money for it.
The next two died in a horrific car crash. They were driving together, supposedly going on a business trip. The car had a faulty GPS, and when they followed the directions on it, they drove off a cliff. Funny how these things can happen. But I do have to say that befriending someone who is a genius in computers didn’t hurt either.
And now… Now there is only one rapist standing. Cullen Stevens was Ruby’s boyfriend in high school. He used her feelings for him and let his friends have their way with her while he watched. Then, his parents paid hers off to throw her out. No one believed her.
As risky as it is to my very own existence, I wanted to take care of him myself. Once again, Devereaux came through for me. He arranged for a private jet to fly me from Montana to Texas where Cullen Stevens lived. I was registered for the flight under a fake name, and we took all the necessary precautions so that the Savages wouldn’t get wind of me being in Texas.
Now, I am standing in front of a church where Cullen is scheduled to arrive soon. It is the place where he and his family come on every Sunday to attend the service. It is also the most convenient way for him to get his drug of choice since his dealer just so happens to attend this same church. The exchange is being done in the back office where Cullen goes to give his large donation to the church every Sunday.
As far as his family knows, he is very in touch with his spiritual side. He is very admired in the community for his dedication to making it flourish, and he is on track to be the next candidate for state senate. With his looks and perfect looking family, they all talk about him like he is the next JFK. We all know by now the kind of personal life JFK had or how his life ended.
A lot of palms were greased for me to get all the information on this fucker and his family. Now, as I watch them arriving in their luxury SUV, my eyes go over his wife and twin daughters. I wish I could say that I have doubts about taking the husband and father away from them. But when I look at them, I see Ruby’s sad face and how scared she looks sometimes after a bad dream that always involves this man.
I take a step back from the window, slink back into the shadows and wait. Cullen Stevens is now walking his family to their usual seats next to his parents. He then will come to this very office where I’m waiting, to make a donation to the church. While he normally does write a check to the church, too, he comes here to pick up the bag of cocaine that his dealer makes sure to leave for him taped under the chair in the corner. Cullen is supposed to grab it and tape back his envelope with the cash that pays for it.
This has been his norm for the last twelve months. It all ends today.
My heart rate picks up when I finally hear footsteps approaching the door. I watch as it opens, then Cullen walks in. He closes the door behind him, careful to look down the hallway before he does so. He walks over and places an envelope with the check for the church on the desk that is across from where I’m standing.
He then turns around and rushes toward me, or rather the chair next to me. The one that should have the drugs he is looking for.
“Who the hell are you?” he almost yelps in fear when our eyes meet.
I shake my head at him in disappointment. “You should not use that kind of language in church, Cullen. It will only send you on the path of destruction and despair sooner.”
“Does Father Smith know you’re in here?” he snaps at me.
I raise an eyebrow in amusement. “Does Father Smith know you’re using his office for drug dealing?”
His face becomes pale, and he looks guilty as fuck. He is a terrible criminal.
I see the exact moment when he decides to run out the door, but I’m a little faster. I grab him by the arms and slam him down in the very chair that’s been a part of his criminal activity for so long.
Before he has a chance to react, I slam two sets of handcuffs over his wrists to hold him in place. When he attempts to sit up with the chair, I punch him in the face so hard, the chair bangs against the wall that’s behind.
Looking at my watch, I realize that I don’t have much time before someone will come looking for him. My hands work fast when I gag him. I then take out the large knife I brought with me and slice through his fancy shirt before doing the same with his pants and underwear, making sure his cock is out.
“I had all sorts of plans for you, pretty boy,” I grin at him. “Cutting your cock off was first on my list.”
He starts moving his head from side to side, sweat running down his face as he tries to scream around the gag.
“You don’t deserve to die fast,” I inform him next. “You deserve to suffer. But you’re lucky that I don’t have time for that.”
