Page 78 of Steel Rain

I looked down at him, the rose still in my hand.Men like Keith had brutalized Isla Green.

Men like Keith deserved a morsel of the pain they caused.

I reached my hand out in front of me, the rose quivering in my frigid fingers, as I let it go. It fell down into the hole, onto Keith’s face, the thorn precariously close to his eye. I don’t even know if he saw it, his terrified eyes were on me, his tormentor. His murderer.

“A yellow rose of friendship,” I said with a small smile. “Did I look at you that way, when you tortured me? When you hurt me?”

I picked up the shovel, dug it into the freshly turned earth and swept the dirt over his face. I buried him alive, bit by bit, hearing his rhythmic wheezing breath until his face was covered in dirt, and it stopped.

It was almost meditative: the repetitive act of shoveling into the pile of dirt, then tossing it into the hole, hearing the soil’s light rumble as it rolled along the rising ground. It reminded me of the time Isla Green’s long string of pearls snapped, and the beads skittered along the hardwood floor, rolling until they stopped.

Dairo, Eoghan and I had diligently searched for every one so that Isla could string them back together again. She had kissed each of our foreheads when the task was done and clutched her beloved pearls to her chest.

“Why don’t you let Dairo and Ajax finish up here?” Eoghan cut through my little reverie.

“I’m fine doing it myself,” I said. Shovel. Throw. Rumble.

“Let them finish it, Shiny,” Eoghan repeated. “I think I should take you back to your house. Let you see it before you and Sibby move back in.”

I halted, frozen mid-throw.

He was giving us back our house? So soon? I didn’t believe it. It seemed too good to be true.

I looked to Ajax, wondering if this was a trap. Surely, he would know. He could guide me.

No, not guide. Coach. I was his fighter. He was in my corner.

But his mask was on. All except for those eyes that shone with a certain kind of warmth. Was that… pride? He stepped up to me, grabbing my chin in his hand, tilting my head up as he kissed me on the mouth.

It wasn’t passionate, or seductive. It was simple. Sweet. His warm lips on mine. Familiar.

It was as if we had done this with an audience a hundred times before and would do it again a hundred times after.

“Go,” he whispered, his breath warm against my lips. “If anything happens to you, they’ll answer to me.”

His threat was said to me, but it was for Eoghan’s benefit. The viciousness of it sent a shiver down my spine. When had malice become a turn on? Or was it because it was formydefense? I wasn’t sure. My head was swimming with all the possibilities.

I looked at Dairo for a moment, as he gave a solemn nod. I stepped to him, and in a voice too low for either of the others to hear, I said, “Swear to me Sibby will be okay. Swear it.”

I wasn’t sure that Eoghan wouldn’t kill me. Not after what I had done.

Dairo looked at Eoghan and Ajax before he spoke, then leaned down.

“I swear on the life of my children,” he said, his hand coming to his heart.

“She’s pregnant?” I meant his wife.

“Twins.”

Dairo was going to have twins. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to hug him. But I didn’t feel that was right. Instead, I just said, “Congratulations.”

Ajax let me go, and I almost stumbled forward at the loss of his support, but he caught me, giving me another kiss on the forehead.

“You did good, killer,” he whispered into my ear.

I shivered at the praise, but still wanted to ask, “Will it haunt me later? I’ve never killed someone this way … so … intimately.” I looked at the body in the hole, now mostly dead, though I still thought I could sense the slightest movement of a chest struggling to breathe through the light layer of dirt above him. “What if I have nightmares …”

“I’ll chase them away.” Another kiss. This one to my temple. “Come to the gym tonight.”

---