Page 99 of Crybaby

I didn’t have a plan, per se. But I suppose this was always my plan B. I always knew I would go down for the shit I’d done. But Darcie, no fucking way. I want her to live a normal, happy life and she can’t do that with me in it.

We are toxic for one another, and it’s time I did something right for once.

“Move,” I say to her under my breath.

She looks at me, eyes wide when I gesture she’s to walk toward the stage. But she complies because she trusts me.

She shouldn’t.

“I have no words, no words to express my gratitude. This town has been in my blood since I was born…”

Blah fucking blah… Walter continues his dribble as Darcie and I get closer to the stage.

No one is paying attention to us, too enamored by the DA and his cookie-cutter family—a family of which I could have been a part of. I wonder how I would have turned out if I had.

I use patrons as shields to hide us from the view of security who suck at their job, but like I said, no one would suspect a public attack from two wanted fugitives, especially at a party where anyone of importance is in attendance.

Which is exactly the reason I reach for the gun Darcie has hidden in her handbag and shove it into her back.

“What the fuck, Rev?” she whispers when she feels the piece in the small of her back.

“Sorry, baby, but this never ended with us riding off together into the sunset.”

It takes her a second, but she soon understands what I have planned. “This is the reason you didn’t tell me what was going on because you knew I’d tell you what a fucking stupid idea it is. Don’t be a martyr!”

But it’s too late. My mind is made up.

“Hate me all you want, but hate me outside a prison cell because I promised to protect you and this is the only way how.”

“I owe everything to my family. To my wife. To my son—”

And just like that, the lights go out, and the visions inside my head become real life.

I shove a protesting Darcie up the three steps that lead onto the stage and before Carson knows what’s happening, I have my gun, which I remove from the small of my back, pressed to his temple.

“Hello, buttercup. Don’t you look dashing, playing the part of the perfect son when we all know you’re far from perfect, you motherfucking fuck.”

The lights come back on, and when they do, the crowd’s panic is silenced when they see two new members have joined the Beckett family.

Security runs for the stage, guns raised, but I simply shove the gun deeper into Carson’s temple.

“Stand down!” Walter screams, waving his hands at them to stop in their tracks.

They do as ordered, like the good little dogs that they are.

I wink at Theresa. “Hello, darling. Miss me?”

She blanches, tugging at the string of pearls around her neck.

“Oh, peaches, don’t act coy. I know you blush that pretty pink all over.” I lick my lips with intent, and Walter reads it for what it is.

Theresa bursts into hysterical sobs. The perfect wife act has been ruined.

When Darcie asked why I wouldn’t kill Walter and Carson, the answer is, death is easy, living with what I’m about to deliver is far more of a punishment than death.

The Becketts pride themselves on their status, on being better than everyone else, so I’m going to show them what it’s like being an outsider; just like I’ve been my entire life, thanks to Daddy dearest.

“Son, let him go. We can talk about it.”

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