Page 67 of Vow of Vengeance
This is so much worse than I thought it was.
And now there's a witness to the first murder I ever committed.
My eyes find Wes', seeking silent instruction on how to proceed.
She's seen our faces. She knows we murdered him. If she goes to the police, it’s over for both of us.
The harsh reality is that we can't let her live if we want to get away with what we did.
I scrub my hands over my face and drag them through my hair, trying to chase away the exhaustion that clings to me like a second skin, to try and silence everything in my head so that I can think clearly, decide how to deal with this.
Killing one person is bad enough, but Khan deserved it.
Marissa, on the other hand? She's a victim, just like Soren.
And if I kill my wife's other best friend, I don't know if I'll ever be able to sleep again without the guilt eating me alive.
"Fuck!" I growl, slamming my fist into the table.
Marissa jumps and Wes wraps her tighter against him, as ifhe'sthe safe one to be around here. I'll let her hold onto that delusion; it's the least of my problems.
A small sound from the ground draws my attention, and I glance down to see Khan’s hand twitching.
I move quickly, drawing the gun out of my waistband and training it on the back of his head. But then a moment of clarity hits me.
I stash the gun quickly and heft Khan up so that his back rests against me, keeping him propped up so that I can rip the tape off his face.
Khan screams into his gag as I unravel it, clearly not dead. I take some of his eyebrow off as I yank the tape, and blood pours fast from his wounds as I rip it away. I wind it quickly around his upper arms, pinning them together behind his back and since it's wet and no longer sticking in parts, I bind him with the belt on the floor for good measure... a belt I'm pretty sure he beat Marissa with, given the welts on her body.
"It's okay." I assure her. I don't know how many times I've said it, but maybe if I say it enough, one of us will start to believe it. It sure as fuck isn't about to be me.
Marissa's sobs turn quiet as I step in front of her, leaving Khan on the ground, useless to escape. He's alive, but not all there. Maybe it was one of the hits to the head on his way down the steps, or maybe it's just that he's such a sniveling little bitch he's trying to escape the reality of his own death.
I wave the gun in front of her, and she doesn't flinch, though she does still tremble.
"The fuck, Evers?" Wes snaps.
"This is the trigger," I tell Marissa, just like I told Soren earlier. I take advantage of how numb she is and force the gun into her hand, wrapping her knuckles around it. I guide the barrel of the gun til it points at the piece of shit on the floor. "Pull it."
"What?" Marissa's voice shakes so much I barely hear her. "I-"
"You have to kill him. We're not letting him walk out of here."
"Call the police." She says, looking around like she might find a phone somewhere. "Call 911."
"No." I shake my head. "We're not doing that. The justice system is fucked."
Letting Khan leave this house alive leaves too much to chance, for all of us. Re-victimization, for her or Soren. Penalty of murder charges for Wes and I.
Nope.
"But we can show them the evidence. I-" She hesitates. "I'll testify. I can go to the hospital and do a rape kit, and we can put him behind bars."
"No." I shake my head. "This isn't the first time he's done this." I tell her.
It's a bit of an accident, a betrayal of my own tongue. I didn't mean for her to know that, because I sure as hell don't want Soren to know about it. If I can, I'll keep all of this from her. Maybe we can convince her Marissa was away on holiday, cruising around the world.
"What do you-? How do you know?"
