Page 3 of Murder & Mayhem
While Ari did his thing, I snuck closer, trying to see inside. The back door led into a mud room and then the kitchen. But if you turned at the right angle, you could see just past it. It probably wouldn’t be good enough, but maybe.
I twisted as much as possible, but I couldn’t get any visuals. At first, I heard nothing. Then there was a sound, something like an anguished cry. “I swear to fuck, I’ll do it, Joey! Tell me where he is.” I couldn’t hear Joey’s response, but I immediately clocked two things. Joey wasn’t alone, and whoever was there was trying to take my kill. Clearly in a very amateur way.
“I’m going in,” I told my brothers.
Immediately, Ari was yelling at me to fucking wait, but I’d put my gloves on already and was picking the pathetic lock that barely passed as security, then I quietly slipped inside.
I tuned my brothers out, glad the door didn’t squeak. The intruder was still yelling. He sounded pretty young and frantic. He wasn’t in control, and that was usually a bad sign. I could hear Joey too, but his words weren’t clear. His tone was condescending though, not frightened. He didn’t consider this other person a threat.
I walked confidently through the kitchen, and neither man even turned this way, still focused on each other, so I stayed in their blind spot. Joey was exactly where Ari had said he would be, in his disgusting recliner that looked so much like Mitchell’s, it made me queasy. His back was to me so I couldn’t see hisexpressions, but he seemed relaxed, like he was positive that this guy wouldn’t pull the trigger. He was so fucking young looking. I’d be shocked if he was a day older than 18. The guy had shaggy sandy-brown hair that fell in his eyes. He kept having to throw his head back to get it out of his face. He was wearing an oversized black hoodie, and his hands shook where he pointed the pistol at Joey. He was skinny, too skinny, his cheeks gaunt like he’d missed one too many meals in his life. He wasn’t short, but I was pretty sure that Joey could snap him in two without breaking a sweat.
Something about his face looked vaguely familiar. I didn’t have a good feeling about this. Was this one of Joey’s victims? The asshole in question leaned forward in the chair like he didn’t have a care in the world, and the other guy flinched and staggered back a step, though he didn’t lower the gun. Still, this was about to be a shit show if I didn’t intervene.
“Ari,” I whispered. “I’m already in. He’s practically a fucking kid. He’s going to lose it, or worse, Joey’s gonna get the jump on him and he’ll end up dead. I’m not letting that happen.”
“Damn it, Nick. Can’t one fucking job go easily?”But I was already grinning. Ari was switching gears, preparing for my occasional impulsiveness.
“Hey, mine are usually a breeze. You’re bitching at the wrong brother.”
“Rude!”Gid called back as Ari said,“Coming from the one who is going off script as we speak.”
I shrugged. There was no helping this. And I knew if they could see, they would agree. Speaking of which, I scanned the shitty kitchen until I saw one of the cameras on the counter. The freak hadn’t even tried to hide them. I picked it up and angled it so Ari could see the scene. Immediately, I sensed the change in them.
“I’m going to try running facial recognition on the kid.”
“Okay. It’s getting worse and neither of them even hear me. I’m making my move.”
I slipped out of my hiding spot in the kitchen and walked casually into the living room, leaving the camera in a place where Ari could monitor. He’d scrub all of them when I left anyway, so I wasn’t worried.
“Word of advice, turn the safety off when you’re threatening to shoot someone.”
The guy jumped, the gun swinging violently in my direction. Joey took that as a sign to take his shot and launched for him, but he was fooling himself if he thought I’d let that happen. Instantly, I was blocking his path and pushed him back into the chair. My gloved hand wrapped around his throat.
“I don’t fucking think so, Joey. Today is still your day of reckoning. But it’s not him that’ll end you. It’s me.”
CHAPTER 2
JAMESON
My hands shook as I struggled to keep the gun pointed at Joey’s chest. The object of my nightmares and the one person I’d hoped to never see again. We’d been free. We’d done it. Bailey and I had gotten away from our stepfather, who’d tormented us for years and years. We’d finally had a chance at a real life. I’d had two jobs and a shitty apartment, but Bailey had actually been in school and worked weekends at the grocery store. We’d barely made enough to keep the lights on and survived on ramen, but it had been fucking worth it. I’d been grateful every single second I’d crashed on that pull-out couch. And just like that, it was all over.
“I swear to fuck, I’ll do it, Joey! Tell me where he is!” But my stepfather refused to take me seriously. Even with a gun pointed in his face, he only laughed. My finger twitched. He thought I was too much of a coward to pull the trigger, and maybe in the past, I had been, but if it wasn’t for the fact thathe was the only one who knew where my little brother was, I would’ve already killed him.
Maybe. Probably.
Truth was, he likely had a point not to be scared of me. I’d sworn I wouldn’t let him affect me when I showed up today, but just walking in those doors had brought back a flood of memories, none of them good. He still had all those fucking cameras up. I had been battling panic since the second I’d seen them. Those held the proof of every horror Bailey and I had ever suffered through. I should’ve destroyed all of them. I should’ve burned this fucking house of horrors down, but Joey was right. I was a chicken shit.
“You ain’t gonna kill me, pretty boy. So why don’t you stop playing these games and put my gun down? We can talk. Man to man, I mean, since that’s what you swear you are now, right?”
Joey laughed, his teeth somehow even more yellow than they’d been the last time I’d seen him six months ago. I swallowed, trying to shove down that trickle of fear that had crept up my spine when he’d called me pretty boy. It was right there at the surface. Every single trigger I’d thought I’d shoved into a tiny box so deep in the recess of my mind that I could forget they’d ever happened. One of his creepy smiles and a “pretty boy” and I was twelve years old again, with my back against the locked closet door to keep him away from my nine-year-old brother.
I didn’t dare close my eyes, though, and even if my arms burned from how badly they shook, I didn’t lower the pistol at all. Bailey was more important than any of my fears.
“Tell me where he is! I know you took him!”
That fucking text message I’d gotten from my brother would be ingrained in my brain for the rest of my life.
I’m sorry. I tried to get away. I’m not strong enough. Come find me.
