Page 91 of Beautiful Ruins
“You’re fucking crazy,” he said, his voice cracking.
He tugged at the restraints again, his wrists red raw from struggling. His eyes darted to Bear, searching for something—mercy, reason, anything—but he wouldn’t find it there. He wouldn’t find it within any of us.
Somewhere deep in the trees, an owl called once. The cicadas didn’t stop. The bush didn’t care what we were about to do. There was no high from this. No rush. Just a slow, heavy certainty in my chest that this was what justice looked like. It was ugly, necessary, and final.
Bear caught my eye. He didn’t say a word, didn’t have to. One look was enough. We’d done this dance before, the unspoken choreography of men who knew exactly what they were to each other and what they had to do.
I nodded and Bear answered with a slight, cold smile. Scout shifted on his feet, about ready to jump out of his skin, waiting for the green light. His eagerness would either make him, or kill him, one day.
Marcus thrashed once again, a wild, final buck. It got him nowhere. “Sadie used to love me,” he spat. “You think she won’t hate you for this?”
I laughed, throwing my head back and swiping a hand down my face. “That’s where you’re wrong. Sadie is the one who made sure you weren’t leaving Barrenridge at all.” I grabbed him by the shoulder, shoving him onto his stomach.
Dirt smeared his cheek and filled his mouth. He lay there, breathing heavy, not even fighting it. Maybe he’d finally accepted his fate. Or maybe he thought there was some mercy in not having to see it coming.
There wasn’t.
Sadie had already been through too much, her emotional scars keeping her up at night, haunting her days. I wouldn’t let Marcus add his name to that list. This had to be final.
I held out my hand and Bear snatched the shotgun from where it leaned up against a tree trunk. He placed it into my palm. My fingers instinctively wrapped around the walnut handle, the old timber worn from years of hands just like mine.
I’d have used my pistol, but a shotgun at close range did a lot more damage. I didn’t want that arsehole to be recognisable, even if someone did manage to find him before he’d rotted into the ground for the plants to devour.
I pressed the barrel hard against the back of Marcus’s skull, digging in for effect. A muffled whimper filled the air. The fight had evaporated out of him.
As the anger surged through me, it didn’t feel like restraint anymore. It felt like release.
I stared at the back of Marcus’s head. Took a breath. Another.
Then I pulled the trigger, the shot loud enough to startle the stars. His body jerked once, and it was done. Fragments of bone and brain sprayed out, landing themselves onto the nearest tree, or plant. Or boot. One second, he was breathing, the next he barely had a head attached to his neck.
It may have been fast and brutal. But it wasn’t clean. Blood pooled like engine oil, and seeped into the earth, marking it until the next lot of rain came, or the wind covered it over with more red dirt. A beetle scurried over Marcus’s boot, undisturbed by the mess we’d made.
Bear placed a heavy hand on my shoulder, solid and reassuring. It grounded me, that touch, reminded me why we were doing this.
Now Sadie wouldn’t have to look over her shoulder any longer, at least not for Marcus.
Snake was another problem, but for now, she was safe.
I nodded and glanced over at Scout. He stood there, wide-eyed, still caught in the moment he had watched someone die. But it wasn’t shock stuck on his face. If anything, it was relief. Whether that was for Sadie. Himself. For us.
He’d finally seen the monster under the bed, and perhaps it wasn’t as bad as he’d imagined. The nightmare was over, or at least the first half of it was.
“You good?” I said, slapping Scout on the back, forcing a smile so he’d know the next part was the simple part. That the hard part was over.
He hesitated. “It’s just—he looked so weak.”
“They all do,” I said. “That’s how they hide what they really are.”
He nodded, face pale. “What next?”
“We make him disappear,” Bear said, kicking Marcus’s lifeless body with a grunt. “Just like we planned.” He held Marcus’s phone in front of my face, the screen still lit up with the unfinished message.
I wiped it clean with my shirt, smearing the blood off my hands. I read over the words.
Marcus: I need a holiday. Don’t try to reach me. I’ll call when I’m back.
I nodded. “Send it.”
