Page 103 of Idaho

"I didn't know them at all. I hired one guy and told him to get the job done," he whined.

"And he got more of his buddies to help him out," I told him. "One of which was convicted of rape. He served ten years and was released four months ago." James's report had included the police reports for that crime. The thought of what could have happened to Eva if we hadn't gotten there was always at the back of my mind. "Do you really think she would have been delivered to you free of harm?" I snarled.

He shook his head, looking like he was about to cry. "I didn't know."

"You didn't care," I corrected. Standing up, I pulled out my knife and pointed it at him. "You were willing to risk her life just to get your hands on her family's money."

"Please," he begged. "Please don't hurt me."

My lips curved into a smile as I stared down at him. "You like to gamble. Right, Krier? It's why your family's now bankrupt? Why you needed Eva to sway her father to give you more money?" I flipped the knife in the air, catching it by the hilt as I circled him. "Louis is your cousin, right?"

Krier nodded, misery etched into every crevice of his face. "He bailed me out once. At the time, he told me it would never happen again." His voice was so soft I almost didn't hear him. But out in the desert at night, it was quiet. A spooky kind of quiet. One I felt right at home in, but others found unnerving.

"And then you wanted to force Eva to convince him otherwise," I said with a nod. "You're not a very smart man, are you?"

"I'm sorry," Krier said, his voice shaky.

"You may as well stop apologizing," Toxic told him. "There's only one path to forgiveness here."

Krier looked over at him in confusion. "Repentance?"

Our laughter broke the silence around us.

"In a manner of speaking," I replied, "but it's not the kind where you ask a deity to forgive you. This repentance calls for blood."

Krier's throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. "I'll leave. And...and never come back. I won't ever contact Eva, or her family again. I-"

"Oh, you're damn right you won't contact her. Or anyone," I growled, breaking off his hysterical tirade. He realized what I was saying.

"No! Please! I'm sorry!" He was crying now, tears streaming down his face.

My lip curled up in disgust. He'd been willing to risk Eva's life and now he was acting like a little bitch because he knew he was going to die. "You're not even sorry for the right thing," I told him. "But don't worry, you won't feel anything soon."

His eyes went wide as I motioned for Butcher to grab him. He was blubbering now as Butcher yanked his head back by the hair.

I tuned him out, grabbing the thumb on his right hand and putting my blade on the inside below the knuckle. "Letting you go," I told him, conversationally, "is a risk. And I won't ever take a risk with Eva's life." The sharp edge of my knife sliced through tendons and muscle like butter until it hit bone. I put pressure on the end of his thumb and forced my blade through until the digit was severed and lying in my hand.

His scream of pain was piercing and caused a bevy of quail to abandon their roosting spot for the night. They flew off, in search of a safer area. Once the noise died down, the others took their place beside me as I tossed Krier's thumb over to Static to hold. I swapped my knife for my gun.

He was holding his hand to his chest, rocking back and forth, but my brothers' movements forced him to look up. "Wh-what are you doing? Wasn't that enough?" he pleaded.

"No." My voice was cold. Hard. "It wasn't. Even if I trusted you to never come back, you still hurt her. You frightened her. That in itself is unforgivable."

I pulled the trigger three times, sending bullets into Krier's chest. I watched dispassionately as he collapsed onto the dirt road. His eyes were open, but they were unseeing as blood poured from his wounds. One of the bullets had pierced his heart.

"We need to get rid of this," Static said, holding up the thumb.

"No. Keep it," I told him. "I have a plan."

Butcher reached down and picked up the body, slinging it over his shoulder before heading back toward our car. "What are we doing with him?" he asked as he opened the trunk and glared down at the kid inside.

Alex's mouth dropped open when he saw the dead body Butcher was toting around like a bag of animal feed. "Who... Oh my God is that Mr. Krier?"

"He's the man who hired you, right?" I asked.

Alex nodded, eyes glazed as he realized he might end up the same as his temporary boss.

Ignoring Alex, we all stared down at the body. Toxic finally spoke up. "When I was kid we had a dog that killed one of our chickens. Dad solved that problem by tying the dead chicken to the dog's neck. Made him wear the carcass for days."

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