Page 4 of Hunting Harbor

It’s dark when I arrive, just the way I want it. The house is a shadow, abandoned by decency, occupied by the past. I leave the truck down the road, boots on gravel and tools at my side. One window glows, but the rest of the house is in darkness. Not even a floodlight to warn him of me, lurking outside. Inside, John drinks. I’m in his yard, and he doesn’t know. I’m in his head, and he doesn’t know. When I break down the door, he understands. When I break his neck, he understands more. I cut the hands that touched her and put them in a plastic bag, leaving him to rot in his festering stench.

The drive to my next target takes the better part of half an hour, but I’m a man on a mission and there’s no stopping me now.

Just plucking the thorns so my beautiful flower can flourish. The first step to the rest of our lives.

Her brother’s place is isolated, even more than my girl. He thought he could escape, but the things we do catch up. They caught up to Harbor. They caught up to her father, and now it’s his turn.Ian’s.I park where no one will see, approach where no one will hear. My breath clouds the air, but I’m not cold. I’m warmed by the fire of making this right, the thrill of watching him pay.

I wait and listen, knowing he’s inside and he’s alone. They always end up alone. A bottle, a glass, a coward. He doesn’t knowwhat a real man looks like. He doesn’t know what a real man will do for someone like her.

The steps to his porch creak like they know my weight, but he doesn’t come to check the noise. Stupid, careless, drunk. Like father like son. Useless stains on society. It’s a mistake he won’t live to regret. I make quick work of the door, just like I planned. One kick, and it’s open. One move, and he’s mine.

I step into the stale air, heavy with dust and whiskey. There’s a floral smell here too. Lavender, I think. It’s almost like Harbor’s scent when I held her pillow close, but wrong. Violated. The older man looks at me, eyes wide, mouth opening, but I don’t let him speak. He’s said enough already, said it with his fists and his filthy fucking hands.

“You know what you did to her,” I say. They are the last he will ever hear.

I tackle him to the floor, feeling the satisfying crunch of bone on wood. He tries to fight back, but I know his moves before he makes them. Weak, pathetic, helpless against someone who knows the game. I let him think he’s got a chance, let him feel like he’s winning. I want him to have hope before I kill it, just like he killed her innocence.

My knee presses into his chest, and his eyes bulge. A gurgle, a gasp, then I twist his neck like I’d snap a branch. A perfect fucking snap. He’s gone. I don’t even break a sweat.

The hands. The hands that touched her. I work fast, bagging his hands along with his fathers. From the looks of this shit hole, no one will find him for a long time. But with two pairs of hands, I can gift my girl the best present she’s ever gotten.

Peace.

Then I’m gone, back into the night, the thrill of her safety beating in my chest. They made it dark for her. Now it’s dark for him.

It isn’t enough. Not until she knows I’ve erased them both. I make sure there’s no trace of me at the farmhouse, then head into the city to drop off her gifts.

The drive into town is long, but the promise of her safety keeps me steady. I think of the photos on my walls, each one a reminder of who she is and who she’ll become. The woman she’ll be when she understands. The woman she’ll be when I take her from this broken fucking world.

The apartment building is run down, pathetic, a place where no one cares what happens to their neighbors. A place just like him. It’s poetic, I suppose. She lives in what she feels she deserves. That will change. She will come to understand that she deserves the world, and I will give it to her. I park under the flickering light, letting the night cloak me as I sit for a moment, holding the bag and making a decision.

I call Noah, no hesitation in my voice. “I need a favor. I need you to contact Creed about building that cabin in the west quadrant. For two.”

There’s a pause before he answers, but I hear it. That edge. That little fucking glimmer of fear. “What the fuck did you do? You’re crossing lines again, Kairo. This isn’t what we agreed.”

“Agreements change,” I grunt. “She’s mine and I need to protect her, just do it for me and I’ll never ask for another favor again.”

I can feel him clenching his teeth, the way he does when things don’t go his way. Noah’s like me but not like me. Not enough to take what he wants when he wants it. He needs time. He needs plans. He took fucking forever with Cassidy, but I’m not like him. He doesn’t understand that this is what Harbor needs, and I’m going to give it to her.

“You always make shit complicated,” he mutters, but he knows he’ll do what I say. “I’ll talk to Creed. But you’re on your own if it gets messy.”

“Don’t worry, cousin. I’ve got this.”

He makes his displeasure clear, but I’m already hanging up, already out of my truck, excited to give her these hands. My trophies. My love. She’s not home, out at the dingy bar across town, I already checked. My lock pick set comes in handy as I open her front door and step inside, inhaling deeply.

It’s so fresh in here, despite the disgusting outside, she has carved a piece of her into this place.

The bag looks beautiful, all slick and red, almost as beautiful as Harbor will when she sees them. Slowly taking the hands out, I place them in the middle of the counter, placing them together. It takes some effort to pry the fingers apart and interlock them, but it makes it easier for her to spot the rings both of them wore. Some kind of family crest, I assume.

I snap pictures with my phone, knowing the shock and gratitude she’ll feel. Knowing this is the push she needs. The inspiration that will bring her back to life and back to me. Then I pack them back in the bag, bleaching the counters so the blood is clear and head out of her place and back to my own.

She needs to understand that I will always have access to her. I will be wherever she is, whenever I want to be.

Time is running out for her to finally understand the depths of my love for her, and this picture, this… message, this gift, will be the perfect prelude for my invitation to the cabin this weekend.

Afterall, you can’t be afraid of a man who is willing to offer you the world in the hands of those who destroyed you.

Harbor and Kairo.

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