Page 89 of Guardian
Dylan Beck was working with someone.Or for someone.“Well, now I feel stupid.It didn’t hit me before, Mr.Cat.Better late than never though, right?”
Mr.Cat lets out a meow from the back seat.
Michael’s right.I do need to be the master of my own destiny.
I take a swig of my coffee and pull off at the next exit.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Liam
I can’t tellif the blood running down my arm is mine or that of the man I just killed.
“Jesus Christ, Liam.Was this really necessary?”
My friend, my business partner, nudges a toe at Harold Ruben, who lies sightless on the forest floor.What’s left of him, anyway.
My pulse hasn’t yet returned to its typical steady beat.It’s rushing and erratic in my chest and in my ears like it has been for days.Since Ravi left.
The threat at my feet may have been neutralized, but my nervous system hasn’t gotten the memo.Likely because the threat wasn’t really the trafficking drug dealer.
The threat is coming from inside the house.
It’s me.I’m the problem.
“It was necessary that he be stopped, Zed.”
I’m given a look of extreme skepticism.“Yeah, and I stopped his two security guys with bullets.No mutilation or dismembering required.”
“You know what he did.”I point at Ruben with my knife.In the course of searching property records for another case, Bev stumbled upon the interesting fact that when the uptick of kids going missing happened in Belle Argo, eighty percent of the venues were short-term vacation rental homes.Most of which were owned by the same guy.While our search of those homes turned up a suspicious lack of security cameras, a more thorough sweep of the properties turned up hidden cameras in the bedrooms, bathrooms, and showers.Oh, and a cache of some new street drug inside a toilet tank.
It didn’t stop there.Harold Ruben was a bad, bad guy.His own son and stepdaughter mysteriously disappeared on a trip to Argentina after the stepdaughter made assault accusations against him.A neighbor with whom he’d had a dispute was conveniently killed in a home invasion.A business rival’s niece was found taking it at both ends at an East End rave, high as a kite on that same street drug we found in his rental property.Nothing touched this guy, but everywhere he went people ended up destroyed.
Well.He can’t destroy anybody anymore.
I realize my business partner is silent, still staring at me with what appears to be concern.
“What?”The word shoots out of my mouth.I’m too exhausted for this shit.I don’t even know how I’m still standing, and I sure as fuck don’t have the patience for my oldest friend to stand there and judge me for doing what he knows damn well I’ve always done.What we both have always done.
“Nothing much,” Zed murmurs.“Just wondering if my best friend’s lost all his marbles or if he still has some left.”
How the hell am I supposed to answer that?I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
“Come on,” he says with a sigh.He juts his chin in my direction.“We need to get back to the plane.You’re bleeding.”
How the fuck can he even tell?But I look down at myself, finally seeing what he’s seeing.A dark patch on my abdomen, fresher looking than Ruben’s blood, which is already beginning to oxidize and dry on my skin and clothes.
I make a circle in place, taking in the surrounding forest.My team tracked Ruben here to this private island in Chilean Patagonia, sometime during the night when I was tied to my own bed with Ravi’s ass milking me like a stud horse.
Once I got past the paralysis of watching him walk out the door, the office was the first place I went.I couldn’t stay in that bed, remembering.I grabbed on to the opportunity to hunt this piece of shit down with all ten of my greedy, desperate fingers.
When I blink to try and clear the memory of Ravi riding me, it only gets blood and sweat in my eyes.“Aside from the house and the airstrip, this island is five hundred acres of forest.We can probably get away with leaving these guys for the wildlife and they’ll be gone before anyone can find them.”
Zed huffs.“Fuck, you really are feeling reckless today.”He tosses me a foldable shovel.“Start digging, numbnuts.”
So, for the next few hours, we dig.Deep enough that the bodies couldn’t be immediately found, even if someone were to show up in this desolate place.We relieve them all of any phones, accessories, and weapons we can find, then unceremoniously dump them in.
We’re nearly done covering the grave when I’m caught with a wave of dizziness.My legs, which still aren’t in the best shape, threaten to buckle.I throw a hand out, catching myself on a nearby tree.
