I’d never seen eyes like his. Otherworldly dark and burning with rage that consumed the entirety of his body. It’s as if his teenage body couldn’t hold the anger inside. I knew for certain that he was going to kill me.
“Let go of her,” Emily shrieked as she rushed forward, punching him in the back with an open palm, incessantly and fruitlessly.
I felt the life draining from my body as he tightened his grip. Unable to breathe, I clawed at his hands.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Addison. I really don’t.”
“Carter,” Emily cried, “I’m begging you to stop this. She didn’t see anything.”
“How can I trust that you’re telling me the truth?” He looked to his younger sister and must’ve seen something in her eyes, because when he turned back to me, I knew there was no way in hell he was going to let me go.
I raised my leg and kneed him in the crotch. He bowed over in a dramatic fashion, affording me just enough time to slip away. I grabbed Emily’s hand once more and rushed out the back door. He was feral like a serial killer in a horror film. No matter how fast we ran, no matter how many obstacles we put between us, he was always right there, hot on our trail.
He cornered us by the sculptures made of bushes that used to sit where the gazebo is now. Somewhere along the way, he managed to secure a knife and was wielding it in the space between us. I wasn’t sure what he was capable of. After seeing the video on his computer, I knew he was more than willing to kill me to keep his secrets safe, but would he really hurt his own sister?
I couldn’t take the chance to find out. I shielded her with my own body, forcing myself to stand between the two of them.
“Carter, put the knife down,” Emily screamed, but it was no use.
He was caught red-handed and knew what had to be done, lest he spend the rest of his adult life in prison. There was only one way things could go, and straight to hell they went. He lunged forward, swiping his knife through the air. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a carving knife on the grill beside me. And as he approached, I reached for the knife and yeah… Straight to hell we went.
Stabbing a blade into the stomach of a living, breathing human being isn’t easy. It’s not that it took a particular weight of force, but rather the emotional cost of taking another human life. His knife clattered against the concrete beneath us as his eyes bowed down. He stumbled backwards, a dribbling of blood rolling down his bottom lip. He reached for the knife in his gut and pulled it out, without so much as making a sound. It’s almost as if he had accepted his fate as he fell to the ground on his knees.
I couldn’t watch him die, though. As disturbed as he turned out to be, it wasn’t my job to play the role of the judge, the jury, or the executioner. I slung his arms over the back of my neck and dragged him to his own car, placing him in the passenger’s seat. Emily stayed behind as I tore out of the driveway with every intention of getting him to the hospital.
The road to hell is always paved with good intentions, but it’s littered along the way with impossible decisions. A Rubik’s Cube of twisted morality puzzled me along the highway that curved around the beautiful Atlantic Ocean. As we inched closer to the hospital, Carter came to. Instead of remorse, he opted to take the path of most resistance and decided it was in his best interest to taunt me. He informed me that I would spend the rest of my life behind bars and that his daddy could make everything else go away.
He was right.
The Calloways didn’t play by the same rules as everybody else. They wielded enough power and influence that it didn’t matter if one of them would shoot someone dead in the middle of the street. When you’re that rich, that connected, the rules of law have a bad habit of slipping through the cracks.
The only person that would pay the price for Carter’s actions would be me.
So, I steered his car through the median and crashed through the railings on the boardwalk, sending the car barreling over a thirty-foot embankment. I would crawl out of the wreckage, but due to the multiple injuries he sustained by both my hand and in the accident, he was unable to do the same.
I could have helped him, but instead I chose to stand there, frozen in place on the hottest day of the year. The car burst into flames and the last thing Carter Calloway felt before he died was the knife of revenge twisting in his mortal flesh as he screamed for help that would never come.
ChapterTwenty-Five
NICK
Addison is silent. For once in her fucking life, she knows to keep her mouth shut.
“Emily begged me not to say anything.”
I guess I spoke too soon. “Why?”
“For whatever reason, she didn’t want the world knowing that her brother was a pervert. She said she’d never forgive me if I told anyone the truth. Deep down, I know I should have said something, but the guilt was immediate. No matter what he had done, I took his life. I killed him without a judge, without a jury, without a trial in a court of law or public opinion. Eventually, the guilt went away.” She looks to me without remorse, as if she hadn’t just described the brutal way she murdered my brother. “At the end of the day, the only thing I’m guilty of is defending myself against someone that attacked me, against someone that hurt other girls.”
My teeth practically grind against each other. “I don’t believe you.”
“Yes, you do.” She shrugs with apathy or exhaustion. It’s impossible to know which. “Like I said before, deep down, you already knew something was amiss.”
I feel my right hand ball into a fist. It’s not intentional, but sometimes, I can go to some dark places. It can be terrifying, like I black out for periods of time. I remember everything that happens in those instances, but I never feel in control of them.
Addison notices. “What are you going to do, Nick?” She narrows her gaze on me. “I won’t blame you for whatever you do next. God knows, we’re both creatures of habit, unable to control ourselves in the face of emotional trauma.”
I step towards her, but she’s unwavering. Doesn’t even flinch. She just stands there like a statue that’s unable to be moved. She’s not afraid of me. I’m not sure she ever has been. She’s stronger than she looks, so much more so than I had originally pegged her for. I take another step closer, and still I don’t know if I’m going to choke her or something else entirely.