Page 53 of Cruel Charming Psychos (Necessary Evils 2)

“You’re not going anywhere.” He reaffirms his grip on the trigger, his eyes unwavering from mine. “You offered to pay me and since you are not in the position to pay me out of your own pockets, you’re no longer in control. I’m going to get what I’m owed and then assuming that happens, I’ll let you go.”

“I don’t think we can do that, bro,” the other man chimes in. “He took off her blindfold, so she knows who we are.”

“That won’t matter,” Ethan spits. “By the time they can do anything about it, we’ll be too far gone.”

“I can get you the money in other ways,” I plead with them with my hands still raised. “My father keeps cash at the house. Let me go and I’ll go get you twice what I promised to pay.”

“I like to think I’m a trustworthy man. In my line of work, jobs work on an honor system but there’s always collateral. You just became the collateral if you catch my drift because I’ve just realized that I suddenly don’t like your offer.”

The other man begins circling the room until he’s standing directly behind me, and I can no longer keep my eyes on both of them. My stomach turns. I hear the clicking of a gun from behind as a shadow falls over me.

“This just turned into a really expensive night for your family because now I have both of you and that means I’m raising my price tenfold.”

The gun presses against the side of my head and stays there while Ethan disappears out of sight, somewhere behind me. I hear the sound of a chair scraping across the floor until it’s scooted right up against the back of my knees. The other man forces me into the chair and Ethan binds my hands behind my back and then my feet.

I glance over to Emily and I can’t read her. Her eyes are heavy and wandering, with fresh tears welling up in her eyes to paint over the stained tracks of mascara that’s rolled down her red cheeks. She probably hates me right now even if she doesn’t exactly understand what’s going on and I can’t blame her. I’ve tried so hard to be better than my father, but I’ve become him, only worse. In some fucked-up way, I feel closer to my father than I ever have. It’s like I understand why he does the wretched things he does, albeit for different reasons than myself. We Callaways are too stubborn to back down, even if it means burning the world to the ground to get what we want.

“Pretty boy, over here,” Ethan whistles and points to his eyes with two fingers as he stands behind the camera on a tripod. “Look into this camera and do exactly as I tell you or I’ll cut off your fingers first.” He stands up straight, his face painted in macabre pride. “And just to be clear, when I run out of fingers, I will cut your dick off and send it to your father.”

ChapterTwenty-Five

ADDISON

In my wildest dreams, the entire mansion burns to the ground with the matriarch and patriarch inside. It would be a fitting end for these monstrous humans I have had the continued displeasure of running in circles with. At this point, I’m prepared to throw Nick into the fire with them. I suppose the only thing that separates Nick from his parents is intent. He wanted to do the right thing, no matter the fucked-up lengths he’s gone to, to ensure that. His heart is in the right place. It’s just that his heart is cracked, broken, torn, whatever because of the terrible people that raised him. It’s almost as if he never had a choice in the matter. Coldness runs in the veins of the Callaways. Even the best of them, Emily, has a penchant for doing terrible things for her own reasons, like the time she burned my childhood house to the ground with my mother inside.

Maybe I’m not as different from any of them as I would like to believe. I killed the prom king, the heir to the most powerful family in the Hamptons and now, more than ever, I know that I would do it again. I should have gone a step further. If I had known then what I know now, I would have driven straight back to the manor and put a bullet in both of their heads after Carter took his last, dying breath in the wreckage of the burning car.

The door to the pool house flies open, and in comes mommy and daddy of the year, but there’s a noticeable look of terror on their faces that tells me I won’t have another moment of peace to contemplate my thoughts. The father slams the door closed behind him as the mother approaches with tear-stained eyes. I’ve never seen her like this, vulnerable and broken. Almost makes me believe she has a heart underneath the frozen-over wasteland where it used to be.

She draws her hand back and slaps me in the face, landing with a painful sting that seems to shift my teeth just a little. I recoil and face her head on, staring blankly at her.

“You monstrous bitch,” she screams. “I know you get off on this. You get off on the suffering of others because that’s who you are. You’re a soulless woman. I want nothing more than to beat you to death, but I truly believe you’d enjoy that too much. You’re drawn to the pain like a junkie drawn to the needle. I almost feel sorry for your worthless ass, but there’s no time to feel sorry. You’re going to tell us where the hell my children are or so help me God, I’ll have you buried underneath the pool. They will never find your body, not that anybody would care to look.”

“Enough!” He screams at his wife. “You need to take a breather.”

She twists to face her husband and slaps him in the face too, taking her rage out on anyone within proximity to her. When he recovers, he stares her down and without saying another word, it’s enough to force her to retreat to the far corner of the room.

He approaches me, plopping down onto his knees. He places his phone in front of my face and presses the play button. The video begins in a dark room. It’s dark enough that I can’t make out the face, I already know it’s Emily. My stomach sinks and my throat tightens. Floodlights flash on, momentarily drowning out the video in a blinding white before it focuses on Emily’s tear-stained face. I’ve never seen it before, but in the moment, she looks just like her crying mother with about forty years shaved off the face.

Emily’s eyes stare straight ahead as if she’s reading a teleprompter before she begins to speak. “The men that have captured me are treating me fairly, for now. But if you don’t give them what they want, they say they’re going to cut off my fingers first to show that they are serious. If you still don’t comply, they have assured me that they will kill me.” She drops her heads, her lips trembling as she breaks into a fit of tears. “I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry for wanting to die because I don’t.” She straightens herself back up, staring back into the lens of the camera. “I don’t want to die.”

There’s a loud screeching noise, almost like nails on a chalkboard. All too soon, the reality of the situation becomes clear as Nick is dragged in front of the camera beside his hysterical sister. He’s defeated, his eyes bloodshot and wide.

He straightens himself out and stares blankly ahead, clearly reading words that are not his own. “The terms of the agreement have changed. We no longer care about the disks, but as a show of good faith on your end, we have upped the ante to one million dollars. If you do not agree to pay this ransom in a timely manner, we will cut off both of their fingers. If you do not pay the ransom as agreed within twenty-four hours, we will kill your daughter and castrate your son, ensuring the heinous bloodline of the Callaways ends forever.”

The screen goes black as Nick’s father pushes his phone back into his pocket. He offers me a polite nod before reaching for my hair and yanking it backwards. He rises to stand with his hand still tangled in my hair and towers over me. “They’re both going to die unless you tell me what you know.”

“I didn’t have anything to do with this,” I seethe between gritted teeth, fighting back the tears. It was only a brief moment ago I was contemplating Nick burning to death with his godawful parents and now I find that I can’t bear the thought of losing him. “You’re too damn stubborn though to do the right thing. Just give them what they want,” I plead with him, trying to reason with the unreasonable.

He reaches for the phone again and forces it inches from my face. He makes me watch it again as he stands over me. “For the first time in your damn life, do the right thing and tell me what you know!”

“I don’t know anything.” I try to avert my eyes because I can’t stomach watching the video again, knowing very well I may never see either of them alive again.

But Nick’s father doesn’t give me the choice. He shifts to stand behind me and holds me in place by my throat to ensure that I watch the unwatchable. I notice new details on a second playthrough. The first time, I hadn’t noticed the tears in Nick’s eyes. I’ve never seen him like this. His outlet for emotions is typically anger. There’s a softer side to him, even if that softness is brought out under the duress of impending death. I notice the shadows of light in the corners of the room, but there’s just enough light bouncing off the walls that I instantly recognize the location. It’s the place I spent so much of my childhood, downstairs in the basement of my father’s bar. I’d go down there to play games with my friends while my father worked upstairs and my mother was God knows where.

“I know that place,” I say, offering up details to the enemy. But it’s like they say, the enemy of my enemy is my friend, or something like that. “I can take you there.”

He lets go of my throat and circles back around. Nick’s mother approaches too.

---