Page 13 of Small Town Beast 2: Saverin's Duet

Downstairs the tempo was lively: stamping, tramping music that shook the building from studs to rafters. Ratface lay panting on the floorboards, helplessly watching the pool of his own blood grow wider. Maybe it would drip through the floorboards. People would come upstairs looking. Planning to be gone before then, Absalom ripped the sheet off the bed and mopped up some of the blood using his boots. The bright red color boded ill. In minutes the man would bleed to death. His eyes never moved from the axe in Absalom’s hand. He’d turned the color of chalk.

“Cold son of a bitch,” he said, laughing quietly. “Hiram doesn’t know what the fuck he’s dealin’ with, does he?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“I ain’t going nowhere.” Ratface eyed the axe. “I’d ask for mercy. Use the gun.”

Absalom allowed the man to struggle upright and lean against the bed.A clean death is more than you deserve.But he didn’t want Lorrie to think him a monster. Her opinion of him mattered more than Absalom would ever let on.

He would have loved to take the motherfucker apart one piece at a time. If Ratface had had his way, he’d be forcing his dirty cock inside Lorraine right now. Hurting her. Giving her some filthy disease. Lorrie, his angel. Blood had now soaked through the rough suede of Absalom’s own boots. They would be a devil to clean, and stink if he didn’t.

Some things never washed out, though. No matter how hard you tried. Absalom stuck the hatchet through his belt. “Can I trust the Snatch Hills?”

“What the hell do you think?” sneered Ratface.

“I reckon they want me to do their dirty work killing Roman tomorrow, and then they’ll deliver me a cold bullet once I sniff out his gold.”

“Ain’t you sharp. There’s more. So much more.” Ratface groaned in pain. “To think I’m dying over a woman.”

“Maybe they’ve got whores in hell.”

“Fuck you. I’ll tell you something else, boy. Something rotten they’ve got cooking for you. Blow your mind.”

Absalom watched him dispassionately, not bothering to guess what filth was coming next. No evil in this world surprised him. He’d seen enough to know the wickedness of men ran deep as the eternal pit. Truth and kindness were the real rare gems.

“Hiram never told you that he was Duke McCall’s bastard, too,” Ratface wheezed.

Absalom said, “What?”

“That’s right, boy. You and Hiram? Y’all have the same daddy. Ain’t that sweet…And Hiram’s sister, Dinah– your wife?”

They’re twins.Bile rose up Absalom’s throat.That motherfucker…

“That’s right. Those funny Snatch Hills had you marry your own sister.”

“Who else knows?” Absalom asked quietly.

“All the Snatch Hills, but Hiram got ‘em to keep it stitched up. I heard ‘em talking, that’s how I come to know.”

So that’s it.Thank God he had never touched her.His sister. They made him marry his own sister in exchange for their guns, and probably laughed about it over their tincan fires as they plotted when and how to eventually cut his throat. The Snatch Hills were a rotten bunch, but Hiram had a calculated malice to him that was different from the rest. Absalom saw the scheme: Hiram would bide his time, waiting for the right moment to humiliate him in the eyes of the whole mountain before striking him down.

“Did Dinah know?” he asked.

“Of course,” chuckled Ratface weakly. “But she’ll do anything Hiram tells her. Half of it ain’t a sin, right? God! You knocked up your own sister. Shit, I almost did with mine, before they sent me to jail.”

“I never touched the bitch,” spat Absalom. “And you and I ain’t nothing alike. Time’s up.” He primed the KelTec, loath to waste his own bullets. “Last words?”

“You’re a dead man, Green Tree,” Ratface uttered. “They’ll never let you be King. And your little colored slut…she’ll get what’s coming, just like you.”

“I meant like a prayer or something.”

The colorless eyes dimmed. “Heaven ain’t where I’m bound.”

The KelTec jammed. Predictable. Absalom tossed it aside and reached for his Beretta.

TWO

TANYA

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