Page 43 of Bleed
It’s sad really, watching him. At one point he was a young, virile, powerful man. He loved hard, and worked even harder, had a family, and lost the mother of his children to his brother that he hated.
“Fuck.”
My one word makes him chuckle as best as he can, forcing another round of violent coughing out of him, making him wheeze and his lips turn blue for a moment. When he settles down again, he looks at me dead in the eyes with what must be his last burst of energy.
“My brother hates I had children with her, and he couldn’t. He vowed to take them all out when I died. You need to make sure he doesn’t take my Dani. I know Valentino and Allie are a lost cause, but please, save my baby girl.”
“They went to his side, didn’t they?”
“Yes.” He coughs. “He promised them salvation if they could kill their sister. I need you. You’re the only one who can keep her safe. You know how he works.”
“Worked, Michael. Valentino is dead.” I say to him, touching his hand softly, feeling the brittle bones just under the thin skin.
“Good.” He says, his eyes closing again. “Don’t let Allie get her. She doesn’t know she’s her…” He says, stopping abruptly when the machine next to his head bucks and the breath it’s forcing in doesn’t go through the tube.
He has his hand on the ribbed plastic, squeezing it.
“Let me. Suicide is a sin.” I say to him, rising from my chair, pulling his hand from the equipment, allowing the air to flow into his body.
“Thank you.”
“I promise I will take care of your daughter. I know the hit wasn’t from you, at least not directly. You’re a father who only wants to protect her daughter. You did what you had to do to get the help you needed to save her. That in my mind is a good man.”
I had come with the intentions of torturing and killing the man in the vilest ways possible, but now, as I look down on the frail, dying man who only wanted to protect my woman, I can’t. I can’t be the bringer of pain and suffering. Instead he deserves for me to take it all away, quickly, painlessly, and for good.
To just simply disconnect him from his oxygen, it would be a slow and suffocating death, and the blade is too much for him. I could shoot him with the rifle, but I don’t want a blood scene.
Reaching into my back pocket, I finger the syringe that always resides there. You never know when you’re going to need to off someone silently and quickly with no traces of murder left behind. It’s also my fall back when the knife isn’t an option, like in public, or for here, now, a mercy killing.
His eyes close as he sees me pull the needle from my pocket and remove the cap. He knows who I am, so he knows what’s inside, and the little sigh of acceptance he makes lets me know he’s beyond ready for his pain to be gone once and for all.
Gingerly, I lift the tubing for the IV in his arm, careful not to pull on it and hurt him, or dislodge it from his thin skin. The needle slides into the injection port, and I pinch the line above it, keeping the liquid from flowing up and away from him instead of down towards him. With a steady push, I inject the poison into the line, then un-pinch it, letting the pump push it into his veins.
Death by tetrodotoxin, otherwise known as puffer fish poisoning, is quick and painless when done right. Simply eating or touching the fish can cause symptoms of the poisoning in as short as a half hour, but injection of it, directly into a vein, is instant. It’s a powerful neurotoxin that disrupts signals from the brain to the organs, including the lungs. Breathing stops, and death comes swiftly. There is no antidote, and the poison is so deadly that one single puffer can kill 30 humans.
As I stand over him, watching the slightly yellow fluid go through his IV line, I take his hand and hold it while reaching over and flipping off the ventilator that keeps him oxygenated.
The moment the line runs clear again and the bellows stop moving, he falls silent and still. There is no choking or gasping, nor any movement at all, just peace.
“Rest in peace, old man.” I say, chucking the syringe into a sharps container on the equipment’s stand. “I’ve got Dani. Don’t you worry.”
There is no one to stop me from leaving. The house is deathly quiet and eerily still as I leave his bedroom, quietly clicking the door shut behind me. The bodies on the overlook are still where I left them, leaking into the carpet as I step over them, and my shoes are still on the rug by the front door. Stepping into them I exit the house, closing the large front door behind me, and salute the mansion before I get back on Luna and head home where Dani should be waiting for me.
Chapter
Twenty-Four
The CBR 500 is in my parking spot in the garage when I arrive home. It’s scratched to hell but must have run fine for her in order for her to get here. A wave of relief washes over me knowing that she’s here, and she’s okay.
Getting off Luna, I stoop down and look at the damage. It’s nothing that can’t be fixed by my mechanic, and as I pick at one of the larger scrapes in her wrap with my fingernail, I zip him a text telling him I need a bike fixed right away.
I’m in the elevator when the response comes in to bring the bike to him in the morning, and I send back a thumbs up emoji. Dani will be happy to have her bike back as fast as possible, and when all this shit is finally over, I vow that we are going to spend a lot of time riding, just the two of us, with nowhere in particular to go. I just want to enjoy the open road with the woman I love.
Coming into the apartment and chucking my keys on the kitchen counter, I can hear the shower running and see a puff of steam billowing out from under the bathroom door. A moment later her voice, all angelic and sweet, sings out a lovely song in Italian. I don’t speak the language much, but I’ve picked up enough over the years of working for the Carlucci family to know she’s crooning about a long-lost love.
I’m still covered head to toe in dried blood and body fluids, and probably some brain matter too. A shower is exactly what I need, and what’s a better idea than to join her.
“Knock knock.” I say, rapping my knuckle on the bathroom door. “Can I come in?
