Page 100 of Savage Ruin
I stare at him. “Let your buddy help you.”
He locks his jaw, but I look away. Movement at the corner of the kitchen window catches my eye, and I see Thiago slide up to the side of it. His gun is out and ready.
Philip cuts the shirt but when he pulls it away, Langford screams. “Be careful, you idiot. The blood has dried in some places. Grab a wet towel from the kitchen.”
Philip walks away to do as he asks. “It doesn’t look too bad. We can get you patched up quickly.”
Philip’s words make me look at the edges of Langford’s wound. Very little blood is flowing out now. I think he’s going to live. A pity.
The water in the kitchen comes on, and I glance over at Philip. He’s whistling. Unable to stand his cheeriness, I look away.
“As soon as he patches me up, we’re leaving Miami,” Langford announces with a sigh.
“What about your revenge? You’re not going to let a little bullet hole stop you, are you?” I taunt him.
“They’ve been a very bad influence on you. I’ll have to correct these misconceptions you have that I’m a tolerant man. I’m not. Insubordination will not be tolerated,” he says sarcastically, as if quoting someone from his past.
Philip comes over with the wet towel and soaks the shirt until it softens. He leans closer, grasps it with one hand, and rips it off. He brings the other hand from behind his back, revealing a large chef’s knife, and plunges it into Langford’s neck, then jerks it out.
Blood spurts out spraying my chest, and I scramble to get away from it.
Langford roars and grabs his throat. Body swaying, he manages to stand and face Philip. He raises his gun.
I scream for Philip to run, but he just laughs. A gunshot fills the air.
Expecting Philip to fall, I’m shocked to see Langford crumple to the ground instead with a hole in the side of his head.
I glance at the kitchen window and see Thiago lowering his gun.
Security bursts in a second later.
Philip’s eyes never leave Langford’s body.
In a daze, I squat and feel for a pulse, but there isn’t one. Thiago’s aim was true. “He’s dead,” I tell Philip, standing to stare down at the bloody mess on the ground. I silently repeat it to myself a few times, too, until I can feel it take root.
Relief and a strange sort of happiness takes over. I can’t help feeling glad Philip stabbed him. Watching the knife slam into Langford’s body and tear through his muscles and arteries was spectacular, but the brutal efficiency in which Philip yanked it out, was the chef’s kiss. I bet it hurt like hell. I smile.
“Maybe now David can rest in peace,” Philip replies, then spits on Langford’s body.
I nod in agreement. “His death will bring peace to my mother, Marcos, and so many others.” I take a step back from the puddle of blood expanding on the floor. “Except him. May he rot in the hell he deserves.”
“Henley,” Thiago states softly, walking up to us.
Philip turns to face Thiago and raises an eyebrow. “Am I free to go?”
“Yes, but I recommend leaving Miami,” Thiago suggests in a hard voice.
“I will,” Philip assures him. “Oh, here’s your radio.” He hands Thiago one of SEI’s security radios. “Thomas gave it to me. Asked me to notify him if I saw Langford. Just want to be sure I return it.”
Thomas reaches past Thiago and takes the radio. “Thanks, Philip. Good job.”
Philip walks out the door.
Thiago crosses his arms and looks at Thomas.
“Tactical warfare. Sometimes a frontal assault is not the answer,” he discloses before carefully picking up the knife. He wipes the handle, then places a clear plastic over it. When he lifts the plastic, a couple of partial prints show. “Diego conveniently left his prints on SEI’s server. I’ll call this into the police and let them deal with the cleanup.” Whistling, he walks off.
“Glad he’s on our side,” I tell Thiago, who nods in agreement.
