Page 44 of Don't Speak
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Two months ago
The naked man underneath my blade writhes on the table.
Garrett Cole, 46, an alcoholic, has been abusing his stepdaughter for 4 years.
His wife hired me to take care of it, and take care of it I shall.
Garrett is currently strapped to a table in an abandoned asylum I found. It’s been vacant for fifteen years, making the perfect kill spot. After I’m done, I’ll take him out back and tosshim in the dumpster, where he’ll decompose out of sight. By the time anyone finds him, if anyone does, he’ll be bones.
“So, Garrett. You like touching little girls, do ya?” Taking my knife, I start at his sternum and lightly drag it downward, creating a slice that is deep enough to bleed but not deep enough to kill him.
“I-I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, man. I never touched anyone.” His eyes widen, and he fights against the restraints.
“You’re on video, Garrett. You see, your wife suspected something suspicious was going on. When she questioned her daughter, she wouldn’t give you up, but a mother knows when something is wrong with her child. She set up nanny cams in every room of the house, but she placed two in your stepdaughter’s room.”
He pales.
“You’re a sick piece of shit, Garrett,” I spit, sliding the knife further south. He stills for a moment, the realization of what is about to come hitting him like a ton of bricks. “Your wife asked me for a special request.” The tip of my knife drags lightly across his sack. “You see, apparently, not only are you a pedophile, but you seem to like preying on women as well.” Knick. His screams fill the air. “She told me what you would do to her.” Knick. More screams. “She asked that I deliver her a gift.” Knick. “I guess you can see where this is going.” I grab hold of his sack, and in one swift motion, I slice it clean off. He shakes violently on the table, crimson liquid spilling down and onto the table.
I toss the sack into a box, keeping my promise to his wife. Well, his widow. Garrett thrashes for a few more minutes before, finally, he stills. I check his pulse and confirm he’s dead. Just as I’m about to start cleaning up, my phone vibrates. Removing my latex gloves, I pull it from my pocket and check it.
David: Turn on the news.
Sitting down in the rusty, tattered chair in the corner, I pull up the local news station, currently live-streaming on the internet.
“Sean Edwards, 58, escaped from Huntsville State Prison this morning and is still on the run. Sean was serving twenty-five years for the rape and murder of a fourteen-year-old girl. He had served seven of those years at the time of his escape. Authorities advise that he may be armed and dangerous. It is best to avoid confrontation if you see him. Please report sightings to the hotline number listed at the bottom of your screen.”
Well, well, well. Looks like our timeline got bumped up a bit. I’ll be seeing my little lioness soon enough.
I clean up the mess and dismember Garrett piece by piece. Placing him in trash bags, I take him out back to the dumpster and toss him in. When I go to turn, I hear the distinct sound of sticks breaking in the tree line surrounding the asylum. I clench my fists, looking around, but I don’t see anyone. I walk in the direction of the sound, needing to make sure no one saw me, but when I come to the spot in the woods, it’s empty. I turn and head back to my truck, getting in and heading for town.
It was probably just an animal.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Rolling over, I reach my arm out, only to be met with emptiness. I rub it back and forth a few times before cracking my eye open, taking in the light. I immediately notice that Nikki isn’t in bed with me. Lifting my head up, I peer over onto her nightstand to check the time. It’s 8:30am. Thinking that she could just be making coffee in the kitchen, I roll out of bed and walk to the door.
The second I walk through it, my heart drops, sinking into the pit of my stomach. The first thing I notice is my laptop sitting open on the coffee table. In a panic, I rush through the house, checking all of the other rooms. The house is completely empty.I sprint back to the room and head toward her dresser. Opening the drawers, I notice that some of her clothes are missing. Simba is lying on top of the dresser, so I know she has plans to return soon, at least.
I race back out into the living room and turn on the computer. Everything that she was looking at is still pulled up on the screen. It looks like the last thing she saw was the cameras in her home.Fuck me.I knew I shouldn’t have waited this long. I should have just done it. It should have come from me. Now, I don’t think I’ll ever get her back.She’ll never forgive me for this.My heart tightens at that thought, and my jaw clenches.
Grabbing my phone from my nightstand in the room, I quickly find Nikki’s number and call. It rings a few times before it hits voicemail. I try again. It rings a few times again but ends with the same outcome. I decide to fire off a text.
Me: Nikki, baby, please. This isn’t what it looks like. Come home so we can talk about it. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. I was going to tell you everything this morning. Please come home.
Time feels like it suddenly slows. All I can do is stare at the screen, hoping she will respond to me. After a few minutes, the text bubble pops up, indicating that she’s typing back.
Nikki: I don’t want to see you, Dean. Pack up your shit and get out of my house. I want you gone before I get home from my shift tonight. Don’t call me again.
Another pain stabs my heart at her words. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her.
Another text comes through.
Nikki: And get your goddamn cameras out of my house, you creep!
I’ll have to find a way to talk to her. I can’t leave things like this. If she doesn’t want anything to do with me after that, then I’ll leave her alone. But not until I explain who I am to her.
