Page 49 of Resurrect Me

“It’s fucking Aris to you, you piece of shit,” Aris growls, bends over, and picks up his bat.

“Ha! Okay, Aris, is it? Has your lovely wife, the nurse, told you about the people she murdered in Washington? When she was in a death cult?”

I look at Aris, who’s now looking at me. Yes, he fucking knows. I wriggle my hands back and forth and manage to slide a cuff over my thumb knuckle.

Aris slaps the bat against his free hand, threatening Declan. “We can do this all day, Brother. In fact, I’m having a fucking blast.”

“Fucking hit him, Aris!” I yell. Why monologues? Just take him out already.

Declan waves the blade in the air. “You have a blunt object. I have serrated metal. Who do you think will win this fight, Sol?”

Aris pulls back then swings the bat. With a whistling noise and a clang, smashes the bat into Declan’s ribs just as Dee thrusts the knife. Aris curses and whips backward, taking the bat with him. Declan falls to the floor, “fucking prick.”

The knife is sticking out of Aris’s shoulder. The bat clatters as it falls, and Aris frees the knife from his arm. He doesn’t make a sound but secures both weapons.

I scan the kitchen for anything I can use as a weapon. Aris has the knife. And the bat. But I still want to help him take this mother fucker out. There, under the table, is a syringe. It has to be the same one from Dee’s pocket. I slip my second hand from the cuff and reach down to free my legs.

Both men are panting, now encircling one another, hunched down like lions preparing for the attack. Aris’s boots squeak on the bloody floor.

I rip the rope from one of my ankles, then quietly liberate my other leg. But I wait until Declan has his back turned towards me to get out of the chair. My heart beats violently, and I hold my breath as I bolt from the chair and slide under the table, my hand closing around the plastic tube. The syringe is still intact, even though I tried to break it before. The screw cap is easy enough to open, and I just need to get it into Declan’s body somehow…

I jump up from the floor and watch as Declan lunges for the knife in Aris’s left hand, and the bat in Aris’s right pings off the side of Declan’s head. He flies backwards and hits the wall with a thud. “Quick! Give me the knife!” I yell at Aris.

The man behind the JFK mask hesitates. And shakes his head slightly.

“Now!” I hold the syringe up to show him.

He slides the knife across the table towards me, I grab it, turn and slam it into Declan’s hand, pinning his palm to the floor. Then I bite the cap off the syringe, which is stupid in hindsight because I could’ve poisoned my fucking self and dump the contents onto the stab wound.

Declan screams, “You fucking bitch! You…” And passes the fuck out.

“I thought you wanted to kill him, Babydoll?”

“I refuse to give him the satisfaction. And…I guess I’m not a killer.” I confess. “I never meant to hurt anyone.”

In a way, I’m forgiving myself in this moment. Righting the wrongs I’ve done. “Anyway, it would be too merciful to kill him. He deserves to rot in a prison cell.”

Chapter 25

Aris

“Here’s the problem. We have yet another missing governor. And I’m supposed to be dead.”

“I mean, that’s two problems, Boss,” Shawn says as he hits the punching bag. We’re in the gym blowing off some steam. And, more importantly, trying to figure out what the hell we’re going to do with Declan Harvey. Not to mention, I’m still reeling from the fight I had with the god damn traitor and the fact that my old best friend beat my wife to a bloody pulp. “I can’t even visit my own wife, who’s currently in the hospital, because everyone thinks I drowned in the fucking bay. I want to fucking gut him, Shawn. I’m surprised I haven’t yet. I want to use his fucking intestines as shoestrings.”

“Do it,” Shawn says and smirks. “I’d be happy to help.”

I frown. “Tacy wants to turn him into the police. Show them the camera footage of him in the house,” I say and jam the heel of my foot into the pad on the wall. “Problem there is, they’ll see me…a masked guy, in the video.”

“I fail to see how that is a problem,” Shawn grunts as he punches again and again. Each hit grows louder and sends the bag swinging further backwards. “They don’t know who’s behind it, right? Tacy acts like she doesn’t know who you are in this case. Boom. Problem solved.”

“Sort of…but consider the fact that Tacy might be a potential suspect for the murder of Starkey. And so, she’ll say that amasked man saved her and shot Starkey. Then another saves her from being killed in her own home?”

“Yeah, they’ll likely think you’re the same masked man and that she knows who you are,” Shawn says and cracks his knuckles. Sweat glistens on his forehead. His knuckles are raw and nearly broken. “I’m sure the police are wondering how she ended up in the ER with broken ribs, fractured cheek bones, and black eyes.”

“You going to take a break?” I ask and point to his hands. “You’ll need those fists next week when we invade the stronghold.”

“Ahh, bloody knuckles heal fast,” he huffs. “Where is the fucking creep now?”

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