Page 106 of Rugger: The Huntress

“Mmhm.”

“I wanted you to witness the death of every member of your team before I took your life. But, The Chemist has a mind of his own and wanted one of you alive as a reminder to never cross the line we’ve drawn for the entire world to see. Macy was the exception. You two have been to one funeral after the other over the last four months.

“Unfortunately, you missed Bradford’s homegoing. It was nice. Sophisticated. Well-organized. It’s almost as if they had planned his memorial before his actual death. Maybe they saw what you all didn’t.”

She neared him and snatched the wadded cloth from his mouth.

“I’m not here to lecture you or ask twenty-one questions, but there is something I’d like to know.”

“You fucking psychotic bitch. You– yo–”

“Quiet now,” she warned. “Besides, I was no bitch two months ago when your dick hardened at the thought of sliding between my legs. Now, was I?”

Fow. My silencer wasn’t attached to the end of my pistol.

When I castrated Hermen, it was loud and it was satisfying.

“Argh! Shit. Shit– man. Argh.” Hermen tried freeing himself from the restraints holding his arms captive but there was no use. He wouldn’t be liberated. Not until his life ended and he met his maker.

“Sonnie!” Gazelle turned to me, chastising me with those pretty rounds of hers.

“Sorry– I– It slipped,” I lied, holding both hands in the air.

Theideaof him having theideaof sliding in my shit had me wishing I’d put that bullet in his head when I had the chance instead of saving him for now. This date night wouldn’t havehappened and Rugger wouldn’t have gotten her justice, but I’d be at peace with his death.

“Uggghhhh–” he groaned, rocking his body from side to side to relieve the pain as best as he could.

“Why?”

“Come again?” Hermen grunted.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why us when our history made it perfectly clear the result of your operation would be death? Why pursue us?”

“Ugh–”

His pain made it difficult to form words. Gazelle stepped up and placed her silencer under his chin. She lifted it, forcing him to focus on her instead of his pain.

“Because, I was desperate–” he admitted, “Desperate to prove that I wasn’t seeing a ghost and thatThe Chemistwas real, no matter how little the evidence was of his existence.

“I wanted to prove that I hadn’t lost my damn mind like everyone claimed. I had to prove that I wasn’t on the brink of dementia and I wasn’t a washed up detective who was handed the easy cases that no one cared to solve. I’d spent years chasing the legacy and making a fool of myself.

“It was time to give them something to talk about at the office. Give them a reason to give me their undivided attention when I walked through the door. Because if another calendar year passed without him in our possession then I would’ve been the designated coffee guy on desk duty until he retired or kicked the bucket. I wasn’t willing to do either so I bet everything on my team and the hunch I had. They salute me when I walk in, now. Part to make way for me when I approach. Call and ask for my advice or expertise on cases. Shut the hell up when I speak.”

“An ego trip,” she chuckled.

“Call it– ugh– call it what you want.”

“But, was it worth it?” Genuinely curious, she asked.

“Worth what?”

“Was your ego worth your life?”

His silence was deafening. I’d grown sick to my stomach at his explanation. He’d torn her family apart and displaced them all so that the guys in the office would pay him some fucking attention for once. I was repulsed by his desperation for validation. He was pathetic.

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