Page 109 of The Butterfly Killer

Miguel’s grip slipped off the handle of the knife. His eyes widened with a fright that Marcus would have liked to revel in but just at that moment, he’d slipped free of the ropes binding his wrists. He launched himself at Miguel, seizing the opportunity, and slammed into the man. They rolled onto the ground. Marcus couldn’t do much with his legs still tied to the chair, but he managed to grab Miguel’s gun before the man could shake off his confused stupor.

Marcus shoved the gun into Miguel’s face. The barrel touched the man’s forehead. It was shaking. Marcus’s hand was trembling.

All his training went out the window. With his finger on the trigger, the safety clicked off, he swore he could feel his heartbeat comingfromthe gun though he knew that couldn’t betrue. It was just his pulse he felt. Yet, it felt like the gun was a beating heart he held in the palm of his hand.

Pressed against Miguel’s forehead, the gun continued to shake even when Marcus took careful deep breaths.

Miguel’s nose was bleeding again. The blood dribbled from his nostril and over the cupid’s bow of his lips. His clenched teeth were stained with the deep red. His eyes were jittering, bouncing from Marcus to Roman and then back again.

“Shoot me, boy.” Miguel leaned forward as much as he could with the barrel keeping him a certain distance from Marcus. “I dare you.”

The whispered dare flared anger deep in Marcus’s gut.

This man…he’d taken everything away from him. He’d torn his family apart and he didn’t fucking care. There was no remorse and even when Marcus could take his life, he still taunted him.

His finger trembled over the trigger. It would be so easy to put a bullet in Miguel’s head. He wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone again, but he wouldn’t get what he deserved. Nothing could make him see the error of his ways because he couldn’t comprehend any kind of empathy.

Marcus felt hopeless once more. He thought when he would finally get the Butterfly Killer he would feel stronger. That he wouldn’t be so afraid of dying and facing his mother in the afterlife—he thought he might stop the nightmares that plagued him when he did finally fall asleep at night.

He saw now that he’d been a fool to think that. No matter what he did—no matter if he killed Miguel—he’d still be haunted by the man.

Marcus moved the gun to Miguel’s shoulder and pulled the trigger.

“Fucking cunt!”

Miguel writhed as he clenched his hand over his bleeding shoulder.

Marcus fell back on his ass and unknotted the rope keeping him tied to the chair. His ankle ached from twisting it in the fall, but he ignored the pain as he ran over to Roman, untying him too before Miguel got the energy to fight them.

“Let me take that,” Roman said, putting his hand on Marcus’s that held the gun.

Marcus clutched the gun harder though he didn’t really want it. He tilted his head down to meet Roman’s eyes. There was something sweet and delicate in them that almost broke him down.

“Can I trust you?” Marcus whispered.

“Yes,” Roman whispered back.

Marcus would have let Roman take the gun even if he’d been lying. Roman pried it from Marcus’s trembling fingers and when he held it, Marcus did feel safer though he felt like an idiot for doing so. He’d basically laid in the alligator’s mouth.

Miguel crawled across the floor. He got to his knees.

Roman shot him in the leg.

“Ah!” Miguel writhed in pain once more on the floor.

Roman grabbed the handle of the knife still in his left thigh. He slowly pulled it out to Marcus’s horror. He didn’t see an alternative so he didn’t argue.

Marcus helped Roman stand though he wanted to plead for him to stay off his feet. He knew, however, that they didn’t have the luxury of resting here.

Instead of leaving, Roman went toward Miguel.

Marcus pulled Roman gently back. “What are you going to do to him?”

With a gun in one hand and a knife in the other, Roman looked nothing close to human. Marcus saw a killer, a man who’d been raised for this final moment—revenge. Marcusshared so much with this man that it was sort of funny. Ironic he supposed that they were so similar yet so different. They shared a common goal, but Marcus had never thought it would be achieved like this.

“Leave if you want to.” Roman said it without looking at him. Whether it was the shame that made him not do it or if he didn’t care what Marcus’s opinion was, Marcus didn’t think less of him because of it.

Marcus couldn’t stop himself when he wrapped his arms around Roman and hugged him as tightly as he could. Roman stilled, but he didn’t fight it. He relaxed after a moment.

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