Page 78 of Kill For Me Kill For You
‘Noooooooooooo!’
‘Ruth, Ruth, stop it!’ he cried.
As the last echoes of her cry died on the walls, she reared up. Her eyes were wild, filled with terror.
He moved toward her, grabbed her, and held her as tightly as he could as she wailed into his chest.
And Scott felt the full force of what he’d done hit him anew. He hadn’t killed a murderer. He hadn’t killed a predator. It wasn’t going to save Ruth’s life. It was all for nothing. He had killed the wrong man.
His arms locked around Ruth, his fists balled into hammers, his jaw starting to ache from gritting his teeth together. He thought he could feel the anguish flooding back into his wife. She was shaking her head, holding him, willing it not to come. For a moment that morning, he’d watched her shed her anxiety, and go out, unafraid. She was becoming the woman he’d married again, but now it was all gone.
And, as much as he wanted to comfort her, he felt his anger rising. Not at Ruth, not exactly. But at himself.
He released her, suddenly, turned and began to hammer his fists into the kitchen cabinets. Lefts and rights. One of the cabinet doors broke in two, cutting him, and that felt good. The pain felt good. He deserved it, welcomed it, and started hitting them harder.
He threw another punch, slamming his bloody knuckles into the side of the cabinet. Panting and bleeding, he suddenly bent over, retching. He stood at the sink and vomited. Ran the faucet. Splashed water on his face and tried to catch his breath, both hands on either side of the basin in case another wave of nausea came. He thought of the corpse he’d left behind, the neck of the broken bottle buried in his face. That was an image that would stay with him like a scar, but he felt sure it would stay red and raw, and never fade.
‘You told me it was him,’ said Scott.
When Ruth spoke again, her voice was soft and low, ‘I thought it was. I was sure. It looked almost exactly like him.’
‘Almost?’ he said, turning toward her.
‘It was him. In my mind, it was him.’
‘Jesus, Ruth,’ he said.
‘Look, he was probably a bad guy anyway. You saw the news. You did the right thing.’
‘What? How can you say that?’
‘Because when I thought he was dead, God almighty, I feltgood. Going out this morning was like the best thing to ever happen to me. I wasn’t afraid any more. Do you know what it’s like being terrified all the time? It’s killing me, Scott. The fear is literally killing me. And believing he was dead gave me a new life. And now it’s gone. And the fear is back. Stronger than ever . . .’
The TV was still on, although both had ignored it for a time. The show cut away from a story on the Middle East to reveal some men in police uniform at a podium.
‘We’re interrupting that story to bring you live now to the NYPD press briefing on the murder of Patrick Travers. We understand the police have identified a suspect . . .’
43
Amanda
The man who’d introduced himself as Billy threw the wheel to the right round another corner, and took them onto 2ndAvenue.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked.
Amanda’s chest was heaving. She didn’t know what the hell was going on, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. Whatever happened, she was on her guard. The man glanced at her, then turned his eyes back to the road.
‘It’s okay. I don’t think the cops are following us,’ he said.
Her mind was so full of questions she didn’t know where to start.
‘Who are you?’ she asked.
‘My name is Billy, like I said. You’re safe. I’m a friend. You don’t know it yet, but I’m exactly like you. I’m looking for someone. Someone who tried to trick me. A woman. Blonde hair, skinny. Five six, maybe five seven. Late forties, early fifties. Smokes like the Marlboro Man and drinks too much. That sound like the person you’re looking for?’
Amanda tried to swallow, felt a burning in her throat. A bead of sweat curled over her dry lips and burned like salt in a cut. She was still breathing hard, and she realized she had squished herself against the passenger door, staying as far away from the driver as she could. She didn’t know who this man was, and she didn’t want to get too close.
‘I take it that’s ayes,’ he said.
