Page 51 of The Sound of Silence

“Good evening, Ethan! Such a pleasant night out. Headed out to enjoy it?”

I really hated this guy.

He lived a boring life with his boring wife and boring fucking cat. He was practically blind and shouldn’t have been outside after dark. He should have been indoors watching boring sitcoms, while sitting on what I was sure to be a boring couch.

But no, he just had to be blocking my path. I couldn’t afford to waste time with his stupid chatter tonight. I wanted to shove him out of my way but I knew what my mother would say.“Be steadfast, my boy. Be steadfast. Never show them who you really are. Your true self should only be shared with He who is Most High.”

I nodded and smiled politely at Mr. Broderick.

“Yes, sir! It is a nice night,” I replied, using the voice I reserved for convincing people I was just like their favorite nephew. “I’m headed out to get a cone of fresh custard and maybe take a walk along the River.” Like I would ever really walk along the Ohio River for fun. It was crowded with college kids who smoked too much weed while wearing their Mumford and Sons t-shirts. Fifteen years ago, it was Dave Matthews Band. Same shit, different name.

“I heard there was some trouble on the water a few nights back. You be careful now, son,” Mr. Broderick warned.

I hated when he called me that. I was nobody’s son.

“Sure thing, Mr. Broderick.” I made to move past him, but he kept talking. There were sixty-four people living in this building, and somehow, I managed to avoid talking to all of them—except him.

“How’s your mother doing? I haven’t seen her in a while.”

Of course, he hadn’t seen her. She died over nine years ago—a fact Mr. Broderick never seemed to remember.“Be steadfast, my boy. Be steadfast.”

“She’s good,” I lied, not wanting to explain her death to him for the forty-seventh time. “I have to run now, Mr. Broderick. I’ll make sure to tell her you said hello.” Not wasting any more time, I hurried past him toward the parking garage.

The drive to Avondale was short and uneventful. The gentle, arpeggiated harmonies of Beethoven’sMoonlight Sonatasoothed my agitation along the way. When I arrived at the apartment, I didn’t even yell at the homeless man who was lying on the front steps—again. I didn’t have time to waste with him either.

I went inside and grabbed what I needed. Disposing of Cynthia’s body wouldn’t be too difficult. I had an oversized, heavy-duty, duffle bag on wheels similar to the one’s hockey players used for their equipment. Positioned the right way, Cynthia was just small enough to fit inside.

It was unfortunate she would have to die this way, but I knew the world would be better with one less lustful whore. Even if it wasn’t His will, I took an oath when I became a police officer.

“On my honor, I will never betray my integrity, my character or the public trust. I will always have the courage to hold myself and others accountable for our actions...”

And hold her accountable I would.

After stuffing plastic sheeting, duct tape, and four cinderblocks into the bag, I grabbed the long-handled iron I kept in the closet behind the statue of the Blessed Mother and headed back out to my car. Opening the trunk, I placed the large bag inside. I kept the iron, one of my most prized possessions, with me as I climbed back into the BMW.

Starting the ignition, I glanced down at the head of the branding iron, resting across my lap. The chthonic serpent coiled around the Tree of Knowledge starred back at me, a symbol of sin and lust. Normally I would have used an industrial-strength blow torch to heat the emblem at the tip, but lugging the bulky contraption through the building of my condo might draw attention. The gas range on my stove would have to do for today. Cynthia, like all the rest, would only die after she was branded as the whore she really was.

As I pulled away from the curb, my hands shook with anticipation. I couldn’t wait to press the hot iron on the skin between Cynthia’s navel and public bone, inhale the smell of burning flesh covering her womb, and watch as she woke to the excruciating pain.

That was the best part.

I grew hard thinking about the moment she comprehended what was happening to her—when she finally realized she was the reason for the fall of man. I’d seen it so many times before.

The understanding.

The fear.

The horror.

The shock of pain would wake her from unconsciousness just long enough for me to choke the life from her whoring body, then she’d lie with the fish at the bottom of the Ohio River. With any luck, she’d be swept down to the waters of the Mississippi before summer came.

So many questions… she shouldn’t have asked so many questions.

She should have been more like Gianna, and this wouldn’t have happened. My girl wouldn’t have pushed me like Cynthia did. My girl was soft and complacent, submissive in all the right ways. She had even stopped getting mad at me after I hit her. She understood my power. She knew I didn’t mean to hurt her. My girl loved me—and I missed my girl. Oh, how I missed her.

She thought I didn’t know where she was. Right. As if I would ever actually lose track of her. She thought she’d been so clever, but I’d had eyes on her almost from the moment she left for New York thanks to Teddy. Gianna had put too much faith in him. Her trusted ex-boss spilled his guts to Natalia, which made finding her all too easy.

“Gia is safe. She didn’t want me to tell you but I know you’ll worry. I’m taking her to New York. I’ve got a friend there who can help her out with an apartment and keep an eye on her.”

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