Page 70 of Grift

“Your father knows you’re behind all the blackmail, Jared. He knows that you and Carter filmed Jessica. He knows everything,” As my words take hold, his fear melts into hatred and then defiance.

“Fuck him,” he spits. “What did he send you to beat the shit out of me again?”

I tighten my gloved grip ever so slightly on his throat and keep my voice icy cold. “I’m not here to hurt you, Jared. I’m here to kill you.”

It cuts through the fear then, and he starts to yell. But over all the music and television noise, no one hears him. Still, I clamp down on his throat until the wind is cut, and all that comes out is a wheeze.

“Look at me, Jared. Think real hard. Why?”

“Why what?” he finally chokes out.

“Why would you hurt your sister? What would you say to Jessica?” he looks confused, and my gut twists with rage. I ease up enough so he can speak.

“She was just collateral damage,” he chokes out before I clamp down again. I’ve heard enough. I shift the gun directly so that it points at his forehead. But I wait just long enough to so that he knows what’s coming, so the fear clouds his eyes and he starts to beg.

Then I put a bullet straight into his head. A silencer blocks most of the sound, although the reverberations kick through the air. It’s nasty business. There’s no way around it. But it’s a kind of justice.

I dump the bag of coke on the table all over him. It’ll look like a drug deal gone wrong. Just in case, I scatter some pills from the bag in my pocket. The rage-filled music carries on, undisturbed by the horrors unfolding as it plays.

Just as I’m headed down the stairs, I hear movement. From where I stand, I see Carter exit his room and cross to a filthy bathroom across the hall. He’s taking a piss. Part of me just wants to shoot him, and be done. But there’s a reckoning that’s owed here, and I will give it. A minute later, he pads into the kitchen and then back into the bedroom.

As I come down the stairs, I’m not silent and he swings out into the hallway. “Hey, Jared, turn down that fucking….”

My fist smashes into his face with a sickening crunch of bone. Blood spurts everywhere, and he reels back. That’s when I give in, let the rage that I’ve been holding back come to the forefront. He fights too, landing one decent blow to the stomach before I take him down. But blow after targeted blow, I beat him to the edge of consciousness.

“What the fuck,” he manages, slurring around broken teeth.

“Do you know who I am?”

“Carney. Jessica.”

I just wait, letting him think about his instinctual response. His nostrils flare, and he struggles in earnest. I crush his windpipe, enjoying the desperate gurgles. And then I end it with a bullet to the brain.

I don’t leave the gun, but the bullets will trace back to a drug ring that’s been active in Boston off and on over the years. Most of the guys are locked up for life, but there are stragglers. With Jared’s reputation for drugs – and for evading his bills – the police won’t dig too deep. That’s doubly true when the Senator will ask for privacy during this difficult time, and no doubt make a substantial gift to the police pension fund for their assistance. And then of course, the brother will be spinning this into talking points about the war on drugs before the week is over. The thought makes me sick. But they’re not my concern.

I walk calmly to the back door, rap once, and then step out into the icy night.

“You good?” asks Ronan.

“It’s done.”

He nods. “Gun.”

He would make sure that the gun, even though it wasn’t tracible and wasn’t registered, was never found.

“Where’s your car?” He points to a huge, dark SUV snaking its way along the road. Kieran Doyle lifts his chin at me from the interior as it rolls to a stop. Without another word, Ronan’s in the car and it’s off.

Numbly, I walk back to the junker car I took here and drive it to the casino. I park it where there are no cameras, where it will be taken away before morning. I slip into the suite that I sometimes use, rinsing away the blood and changing into a fresh suit of clothes. Then I head down to the casino, and make sure that I’m seen. Just in case.

Eventually, I face the fact that I have to go home.

To Jessica.

To tell her.

And more terrifyingly, to let her go.

In all this, on a night when I’ve executed two men, the only loss I feel is the impending one of the woman I love.

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