Page 44 of Breakdown
“There is something about you being caught red-handed that’s hard to refute.” Erik barely spared a glance at his captives. He could see Erik’s pragmatic side urging him to just pull the trigger, but his father had never been able to resist explaining to Peter why his punishment was necessary. You had to understand how your own weakness gave him no choice. “It practically wrote itself: you and your sister working the business together since you two put me away.”
He’d been playing Olivia from the start, Peter realized with horror. How much of the last year and a half’s misery had Erik orchestrated for his children?
“You funneled money out from this garage. That’s going to be public record soon enough. Then you started a gang war. It’s not much of a leap to the next chapters in our story. You killed Volkov and Giannopoulos. Their people retaliated. It’s been known to happen. They came here and they burned it all down. And then they—” Without warning, Erik seized a fistful of Nik’s curls, slamming his head back into the wall with a sudden forceful crack. His voice didn’t lose its emotionless tone. “—killed the man you loved.”
All of Peter’s careful progress went out the window as he instinctively darted toward Nik.
“Stay where you are, son, or next time I’ll really mean it.”
Nik groaned pitifully and it made Peter’s heart clench up, two steps further from the gun again. Stupid. Jordan’s face flashed accusingly behind Peter’s eyes.
Impotent rage burned at the back of Peter’s throat, and along with it, his caution. “You think they won’t find it a little convenient that this all happened the night you broke out of prison.”
“Oh, I’m sure they’ll think we all worked together—you and your sister and I, just like old times. But sadly, I won’t be around to enjoy the show. I was thinking Mexico for a few years. Maybe Cuba. At any rate, I’ve decided to spare you prison. You wouldn’t have lasted.” Erik smiled triumphantly at Peter. “Stavros didn’t even make a week, although I must admit I helped him along. He could have ruined everything.”
Jordan. Stavros. All those men at Volkov’s. His father just kept piling the bodies higher. He won because he was patient and ruthless. Peter didn’t know how to fight this kind of evil. He’d spent a lifetime losing to it.
“And yet you ruined it anyway. So our story is a tale of hubris instead. You and Liv thought you’d eliminated your enemies only for them to strike back and burn down everything you ever loved. You know what else? I think my police friends might just find their way to declaring me dead as well, although my remains may never be fully accounted for.” Erik waved the Ruger with cavalier recklessness, enjoying the culmination of his revenge.
“I suppose I could tie you up as well, but to be honest it’s been a long fucking night. Good-bye, Peter, I want you to know that I should have smothered you in the crib, it would have saved me decades of disappointment. Perhaps Nik can tell you what burning to death feels like when you meet in hell.” His finger closed on the trigger.
“Still just a big fucking bully, huh, Erik?” Impossibly, Peter’s mother stood in the doorframe, slight and unarmed.
His father pivoted, grotesque, almost comical confusion twisting his features. His shot went wild. Peter didn’t think, he dived at Nina’s gun, felt its weight in his hand, and twisted as he fell, landing on his back. He clicked the safety off, as Erik turned back to him with a snarl. Peter shot first. His finger pumped the trigger long after he’d emptied the chamber of the .45.
Erik dropped, six clean holes in his chest. Mouth working desperately for air as he drowned gurgling on the blood in his lungs. A horrible, lurching twitch. His eyes found Peter’s for a moment. Peter expected to see hate there, or pain, or regret, but Erik Bauer just looked surprised.
Then he was still.
Cold reality slammed into Peter, taking his breath away. He could’ve missed. Nik was so close and Peter wasn’t that great of a shot and what if he’d hit him? His hands trembled around the grip of the .45 and it clattered to the ground.
Erik was still staring blankly at him. Peter walked over and closed his eyes. He didn’t want the son of a bitch looking at him.
Even in death, Erik was going to get his way. Peter was still completely and utterly fucked. The police would be on their way soon and Peter had shot his father point-blank. It was an open and shut case. He had too much on his record, no jury was going to let him off the hook, and he couldn’t do the time. He couldn’t. He wasn’t strong enough. He sucked in anguished breaths, light-headed and hyperventilating. He’d never killed anyone before.
“Hey, you’re okay. Peter. Come on. Hey, look at me.” There was a hand on his shoulder, another perfectly manicured one snapping in front of his face. His sister’s grey eyes looked too much like his father’s. He nearly recoiled from her.
“I’m going to make this okay,” she said.
“How?” Peter couldn’t keep the desperation out of his voice. “I shot him, Liv.”
“Erik got what was coming to him,” Cynthia called over her shoulder, pragmatic and too calm. She was carefully unwinding the duct tape from Nik’s wrists.
It was true, but Peter knew that it didn’t make any difference. “We can’t get rid of a body that fast, he’s an escaped prisoner. By definition, people will be looking for him.”
“I know.” Stepping carefully around the spreading pool of blood, Liv plucked the .45 from the tile of the waiting room floor. She wiped off Peter’s fingerprints using the front of her shirt, and then she took the grip in her bare hand and carefully returned it to the counter. He thought it was a mistake until he saw the determined look in her eye. “So, this is how it’s going to go. You and Nik were out of town, a nice little getaway after the stress of the trial. Arcata. Talk to Joey if you haven’t already. The Guo’s have a place and they’ll be happy to give you an alibi. Good hiking up there. When you take Nik to get fixed up, make sure it’s the local ER. You went off-trail, just a little accident. I’m sure they see it all the time and it’ll help establish your story.”
He saw what she was doing. “Liv...”
“Don’t.” She shook her head, curt and final. “I knew you were out of town. You gave me the keys to the shop to check in on it while you were away. You didn’t know I was planning running a chop job out of here, or that I was going to break Dad out of jail to help me pull it off. And poor Dave, Dad kidnapped him with a gun I slipped him. Makes more sense than me being stupid enough to fall in love ever did anyway.” The warmth and the sadness that played across her face as she looked at him made Peter’s heart hurt. “Dad moved against Volkov and Giannopoulos. Killed them both. I got scared. I realized I was going to be next. I’ve always lived in fear of my father, everything I’ve done was because he made me, let’s say. The jury will probably like it. He came after me. I had no choice but to shoot him. Him or me, at the end of the day. It’s not perfect, but if I can get Gibbs here to set the stage before Dad’s guys I think we’ve got a good shot at spinning it to keep you out of it. Erik Bauer dead and me up on a platter? No one’s going to look too closely; they’ll go for the easy win.”
“You don’t have to take the fall for this.” Peter exhaled shakily, trying to relieve some of the pressure in his chest.
“Not like I don’t deserve the jail time. The things I did for that fucking man.” Her breath hitched miserably, dangerously close to unraveling them both.
“You’ve been cleaning up my mess our whole lives, Liv.”
“This is entirely my mess. I got us into this. I’ll get you out. You saved my life today. You stopped Erik. Just accept that for the first time in your life, Peter, I owe you one.” She smiled at him. “It’s a relief to be honest, who knew crime boss was going to be such a stressful gig? You can fight as much as you want. But you know in your heart that you and Nik deserve a shot at happiness.”
