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I should have felt relieved, knowing she was safe. Instead, all I felt was an emptiness, a hole in my life that I wasn’t sure could ever be filled.
With a heavy sigh, I reached for the bottle again. It was going to be a long night.
∞∞∞
Days passed in a haze and my nights were restless, always filled with nightmares that something had happened to her. I found myself staring at my phone, willing it to ring in hopes that she would call me. Calling her was out of the question, she had made her choice and there was no way I would beg her to come back. But the silence stretched on, feeding my growing unease. What if Xavier had found her? What if he was hurting her again, right now?
I couldn’t get the thought out of my mind, and I knew I had to do something about it.
It took some digging, but I managed to track him down to a grimy bar on the outskirts of Rock Springs, Wyoming. I told Declan that I needed some time off and headed out west.
When I found his apartment, I watched him for a week, getting to know his habits. Which wasn’t hard. He left and went straight to this dump of a bar each morning at 11 am sharp. He would then stay the entire day, working until 7 pm. Then instead of leaving, he would stay as a patron until closing, when he would get behind the wheel and swerve his way home for the night. But not tonight. Tonight, I watched from my truck as Xavier stumbled out of the bar, fumbling with his keys. My hands tightened on the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white.
When he pulled out onto the lonely desert highway, I followed at a safe distance. My heart pounded in my ears, drowning out the truck’s engine. Miles of scrubland and red rock flew by in a blur, when finally, Xavier’s truck veered off onto a dirt road. I cut the headlights and crept after him. When he stopped to relieve himself by the side of the road, I made my move.
I pushed open my door and grabbed the shovel I’d thrown in the bed of my truck earlier and made my way towards him. The song he’d been singing froze in his throat as I cracked the shovel against his skull just enough to knock him out, but it was sickeningly loud in the still desert night.
I worked quickly; my movements deliberate. Soon, Xavier was bound and gagged like a stuffed pig, and then I delivered the piece de resistance. I shackled an ankle iron to his leg and attached the chain to the trailer hitch to the back of his truck. Walking over to my vehicle, I took a jug of water from the bed of it, unscrewing the cap as I headed back over to him. I poured it directly onto his face and watched with satisfaction as he sputtered awake.
He peered up at me then squinted. Around his gag, he chocked out, “Who the fuck are you?”
I sneered at him. “I’m your worst nightmare buddy. Just call me the reaper.”
As he stumbled to his feet, he started to scream as he realized his leg was hooked up to the truck. “That bitch sent you, didn’t she?!”
I narrowed my eyes on him. “What bitch might that be?”
“Katrina! She hired you, didn’t she?”
I pursed my lips and shook my head. “Nope. But thisisfor her.”
I headed towards the driver’s door and climbed onto the seat, a grim smile twisting my features. I may not get Kat back, but at least my nightmares would end.
I gunned the engine and took off down the dusty road, dragging Xavier behind me. His muffled screams were lost to the howling wind and the roar of the engine until they stopped completely.
Mile after mile, I drove on, my eyes flicking constantly to the rearview mirror. I watched dispassionately as his body bounced and scraped against the unforgiving earth, just as Kat’s had. An eye for an eye.
When it was done, I stood over his broken, lifeless form. The desert would take care of the rest. As the first pale fingers of dawn crept across the sky, I turned and walked back to my truck, leaving Xavier to the mercy of the vultures that were already circling overhead.
Chapter 35
Kat
The familiar sounds and smells of the bar washed over me as I wiped down the counter for what felt like the hundredth time that night. The scent of stale beer and whiskey hung in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of fried food from the kitchen. Country music played softly from the jukebox in the corner, a tune that had me instantly thinking of Rory, even more than I already was.
It had been a month since I’d left the estate, a month since I’d walked away from him and the life we could have had. And not a day had gone by that I didn’t regret my decision.
I missed him with an ache that seemed to penetrate every fiber of my being. I missed his laugh, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, the feeling of safety I had when I was in his arms. Even now, surrounded by the familiar trappings of my old life, I felt adrift, as if avital part of me had been left behind with him.
The bar was nearly empty tonight, just a couple of regulars nursing their beers in the corner. I was grateful for the quiet, as it gave me more time to think, to remember.
The bell over the door jingled, pulling me from my thoughts. Two men walked in, their leather jackets and weathered faces marking them as bikers. They settled onto stools at the bar, eyeing me appreciatively.
“What can I get you boys?” I asked, plastering on my best bartender smile.
“Two beers, darlin’,” the older of the two said, his voice gravelly, probably from years of smoking.
I nodded, grabbing two bottles from the cooler and popping the caps off. As I set them down in front of them, I couldn’t help but overhear their conversation.
