Page 128 of Fracture

“Answer the fucking question.” He commands, and Valerie shrieks behind his hand as the knife slices into her skin.

She nods, and Dylan moves his hand to release her pleas.

“Yes, I did, I knew, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, Levi, I swear, I didn’t-”

“Don’t you fucking dare say you didn’t know what they were doing.” Dylan growls into her ear, and Valerie cowers, her eyes darting to the side as she freezes. “Don’t you stand here and say you didn’t really know, that you had no choice.”

“Please,” she whimpers, tears pouring down her face. “Please, I’m so sorry. I never wanted anyone to get hurt.”

Dylan’s eyes lift to mine. “Is it all there?”

I nod. “It’s all here. Names, dates, even special requests.”

Dylan’s jaw feathers violently, and the knife glints in the light as he lifts it from Valerie’s throat and plunges it into her stomach. Valerie’s body jerks back and forth as Dylan stabs her repeatedly, blood pouring down her legs. Her mouth opens in shock, no sounds coming out.

Dylan shoves her away from him, and she crumples to the floor, face down. She claws weakly at the carpet, whispered pleas falling from her lips.

“It takes a while to die from a stab wound to the stomach,” Dylan says, crouching down beside her to wipe the knife clean on the fabric of her skirt. “Anywhere from 3 minutes, up to 20. It depends. But it gives you time to try and make your peace with God before you meet him.” He rises to his feet and spits on her body. “Zgnic w piekle.”

He steps around Valerie’s bloody body and moves to my side at the desk. He casts a glance down at the ledger, and shakes his head. There’s nothing else to say. We have the proof now, and all the names.

I scoop the ledger up from the desk, and we leave Valerie bleeding out in the study to go to the dining room, where my family awaits us.

“Valerie?” My mother calls lightly as we approach, the smile on her face instantly dissolving as we enter the room. “Levi?Dylan?”

My grandfather turns in his chair, brow furrowing as he takes us in. His eyes land on the blood on Dylan’s hands, and his hand darts to his coat pocket.

“I wouldn’t do that, old man.” The gun is in my hands and trained on him, and he freezes, holding his hands up. “Everyone’s going to stay nice and quiet, OK?”

My mother’s eyes are wide, and she doesn’t move as Dylan approaches her.

“Hey, Gloria,” he says with a smile, crouching down beside her. “So, I hear you and me got it on, is that right? How was I? Did I treat this dried up cunt good?”

My mother scoffs out a laugh, pulling her face into a haughty mask as she clasps her hands in her lap.

“Get out of my house,” she says, her voice wavering ever so slightly.

Dylan laughs, his mouth twisting in a cruel smile. “I thought we could rekindle our love. You really want me to go?” He rises to his feet and grabs her throat in a bloody hand, shoving her back against her chair.

“Do not touch her!” Oswald bellows, jerking as I cock the gun and take a step closer to him.

“You keep your mouth shut, old man,” I say, throwing the ledger on the table. “I know you knew about this?”

“You hire low-class thugs to do your dirty work, they’re going to talk.” Dylan grins across the table at Oswald. “Your man squealed on you immediately.”

“You killed him, didn’t you?”

“Right around the time your men beat the shit out of our woman, yeah.” Dylan’s face darkens. “How much do you have to pay for men to assault an innocent woman, huh? What’s the going rate for a man like you to have people do his dirty work?”

My mother raises a hand and slaps at Dylan’s arm. “Let me go!”

Dylan rounds on her, clawing his hand around her throat, jerking her head forward and slamming it back against the chair. “Listen here,puta, you shut your fucking mouth before I make you suck on my fucking blade, you understand me?”

“Don’t you dare touch her!” Oswald rises to his feet, and I step forward to slam the gun into the back of his skull, sending him sprawling across the table, hacking coughs breaking from his mouth.

“You move again, old man, and I’ll put a bullet in your ear.” I stand over him as he groans and slumps back into his chair, blood trickling from the back of his head and staining the white collar of his shirt.

“What do you want?” Gloria asks, and I’m shocked to see tears welling in her eyes. She looks at me and shakes her head. “You’re not going to kill your own family, are you?”

---