Page 57 of Inevitable Destruction

EVERETT

TWO WEEKS LATER

“Love the Way You Hate Me”—Like A Storm

I dropthe dude into the chair with a loud plop. The legs scrape across the floor with an ear-piercing screech, and I grind my molars back and forth to keep from grabbing the back of his short, fat neck and smashing his face into the fucking metal table in front of him again and again until he asphyxiates on his own blood.

Instead, I hold my breath and release my hold on him. He lets out a grunt and smacks his cuffed hands on the table bolted to the floor. The scrape of metal on metal has me increasing the pressure, grating my teeth to dust. I stride to the door, and just as Jamie, who’s waiting right on the other side for me, pushes it open, I take a backwards glance—but not to look at the piece of shit in the chair, no. My eyes find the small cot in the corner—the very one I put Dominik Reed on. Where I watched him fuck his fists until he came all over himself, where the premise of this all fucking started.

Well, I guess that’s not true. It started long ago, between two—well, three—entirely different people. But sometimes you have to take matters into your own hands and serve the justice that deserves to be delivered.

“Rhett.” Jamie’s whispered voice snags my attention, and I turn to shoot her a glare.

“Fuck off, Jame.” I shoulder my way past her and down the hall, too much shit on my mind.

“What were you doing?” she asks, trailing right behind me. She’s always just so… in my fucking face all the time. I love her, I really do, but Jesus fucking Christ, she doesn’t know when to back off.

“Nothing,” I bite out, turning the corner to grab a cup of coffee before starting the mountain of paperwork I have to fill out on the stupid piece of shit who tried to take a kid from the school playground. He’ll stay in there until one of the high and mighty detectives from upstairs comes to talk to him. I could save them all the time in the world if they just let me have two fucking minutes alone with him.

I clench my fists. That fucking bitch deserves to rot in the ground. This is the worst part of this job, seeing the harsh realities out there. This is a smaller town and not a lot happens here overall, but when it does, it always hits hard. Especially something like this. Seeing the tears streaming down that little girl’s face…

Makes me fucking murderous, which is why I find my anger deviating towards Jamie as she keeps fucking nagging me. She was there. She helped me deal with the aftermath of dozens of parents fearing for their kids’ lives, and now she wants to ask me questions? Like my head isn’t out of it?

“Everett.” Her sharp voices breaks through my reverie, and I stop pouring my coffee to face her. Her soft, round eyes are wide and rimmed red, and her cheeks are flushed as well.

Shit. She’s been crying, and I’m being a fucking asshole.

“Sorry, Jame,” I mumble, turning away from her again.

“Look,” she sniffles and clears her throat before continuing, “I know today fucked you up. It fucked us both up, okay? But I know there’s more goin’ on with you. You have never gotten this worked up over work stuff, as bad as today was. You can talk to me…”

Her words cause the muscles in my back to tighten up. She isn’t wrong. I’ve been downright fucking cruel lately, the intensity of what I’m doing taking it’s toll. It’s a little harder to use someone—even Dominik who I despise—than I thought it would be. Though the minuscule amount of guilt creeping in the back of my brain will do absolutely nothing to stop me or even slow me down.

This is the path I chose, and I’m taking it to the very fucking end, even if I lose myself along the way.

“Just got a lot on my mind,” I tell her honestly. I know she wants specifics, but those she won’t get.

“Well, no shit. You know what I mean, though.”

“Yeah, I do,” I say, my tone lowering to an almost indistinguishable level. “But I can’t tell you.” I turn away from her and head back to my desk. After sitting, I take a drink of the boiling hot coffee, and the liquid singes my tongue, searing my tastebuds.

“Fuck,” I shout, dropping the cup. It lands on my desk with a clatter before tipping over, most of the contents spilling out onto the floor. My eyes lock on the now brown stain at my feet. I can feel my heartbeat in my chest, the rhythm steadily rising. My breathing is slow as I inhale deeply in and out through my nose.

My blunt fingernails dig into the flesh of my palms as I clench my fist tighter and tighter until my knuckles crack and pop from the pressure.

I am not going to let a spilled cup of coffee send me over the edge.

I’m fine. Everything is fucking fine. I just haven’t heard a fucking peep from Dominik in two goddamn weeks, and my skin is crawling thinking he fucking overdosed, and I missed it and—

A hand on my shoulder has me spinning in my chair, causing a small pile of papers to flitter to the floor from the vortex formed from once still air.

I grind my teeth until the familiar popping noise of my jaw fills my head, bringing me a very small sense of stability. With that, I’m finally able to look up and meet Jamie’s hazel eyes. They’re narrowed as she looks me up and down suspiciously.

“What the hell do you mean you can’t tell me?”

I shrug out of her hold and pick up my cup to bring it to the kitchenette’s sink. After I drop it in the basin, I grip the edge of the counter and let my head hang between my shoulders. The weight of what I’m doing is affecting my body physically. Sleep is almost nonexistent because as I lay in bed every night, all I can do is stare up at the ceiling and contemplate it all. From what I have already done, to what’s to come.

I know how this will end—with Dominik brain fried and completely codependent on those drugs he loves so much, eventually leading to him being buried six feet deep. Though, I know he doesn’t exactly need me to get there—because he would ultimately reach that point on his own, but I can’t help but to insert myself and see to it that it happens now, in my control.

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