Page 68 of Rake

“P.J., I need you to leave.” Finn shields my brother still. “This has all been a mistake. Everything about this has been a mistake.”

“Sorry, buddy. I’ve been paid in full to take care of business here with a big bonus when it’s done. And I don’t care who writes the check. I’m cashing it.”

I shriek, and both Finn and Benjamin spin to face me.

“Get out of here,” Finn commands. “Sasha, go!”

I can’t move. Big, fat snowflakes have started to fall, adding an absurd ethereal quality to the scene.

Benjamin rushes forward, calling my name. As he does, P.J. points a gun in his direction. Why can’t I move? The gun goes off, the report sharp in the barren cold. I’m screaming, and my brother’s eyes go wide.

But he doesn’t fall. Finn wrestles with P.J., who’s trying to push by him to get to Benjamin.

“What the fuck happened to you?” P.J. yells. “You hot for this bitch now or something?” He goes to pistol-whip Finn, but Finn lands a devastating punch in his stomach that makes him double over.

The gun flies out of his hand and lands at my feet. I feel like I’m moving through molasses as I reach down and pick up the weapon.

P.J. doesn’t notice and slams his shoulder into Finn’s waist, knocking him off his feet. He kicks him in the shoulder, then turns to face Benjamin.

He sees me approaching with the gun and laughs at me.

“Is this a joke?” he asks. “Give me the gun, sweetheart. Do you really think you can pull that trigger? No fucking way. You’re too soft.” He laughs. “Besides, I can think of more fun things we can do. You must be a real good lay if you got Finn here to take a bullet for your brother.”

That laugh.

That fucking laugh.

Disgusting fucking piece of shit.

“Don’t make me hurt you again,” P.J. says as I point the gun at him, my hand shaking.

“You won’t touch her,” Finn slurs, struggling to his feet.

“Sit down, Romeo.” P.J. elbows him in the head and blood sprays from his mouth.

Benjamin doesn’t know what to do. He’s looking frantically between me and P.J.

“Stop!” I scream.

P.J. rushes toward me and takes a swing. A wild haymaker. It connects with my cheek, and he kicks me in the chest. I taste blood as I fall to my knees.

But I still have the gun.

My brother howls my name again, and P.J. smashes his fist into my head once more.

“I don’t need a gun to fuck you up, honey.”

I shoot two rounds directly into P.J. Hennelly’s head.

He falls to the ground, his eyes open, blood pouring out of the wounds in his skull. I drop the gun and vomit.

My brother is on his phone, calling the cops.

Finn is up and limping toward me. He holds his shoulder, a blossom of blood spreading across his beautiful coat. He was shot protecting Benjamin.

I murmur his name and he drops to his knees next to me.

“Sasha,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

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