Page 93 of Serena
“No, Serena. Tomorrow. Take it or leave it.”
“Fine.”
“You drive me crazy, you know.”
“Yes, but in the best way?”
“In the best way. Now get some rest.”
“You knowit's a cliché to use a shipyard as your torture location.” We pull up to a large metal container at the far end of the shipyard.
“It’s actually perfect. It makes it easy to dispose of a body. The water, the boats.” I hadn’t really thought about it that way, but he does make a good point. “Baby, I’m going to warn you. The smell is horrible. We’ve been keeping him alive, but not in the best way.”
I take a deep breath and enter. The smell is horrendous. It’s like shit, blood, and piss. I gag but manage not to vomit. I walk further into the metal box, and I see him. He’s tied to a chair. He’s in his underwear; his face is black and blue from all the beatings. It’s so swollen that I can barely make out his features. He has some fingers missing too. This scene brings a smile to my face. It's like all the ugliness I felt inside me has been brought to life, and it’s sitting in front of me.
I look up and see Damon and Felix standing in the corner. They don’t speak, just observe. Next to Stephan is a table full of bloodied surgical instruments. I also see a gun.
“Hey, pretty girl.” Those fucking words.
“Why me?” I get straight to the question that’s been eating at my soul for years. He laughs, mocking me.
“Oh, you came for answers. Well, I'm not feeling very helpful.”
I walk to the table and grab the gun. I check the chamber and aim at his leg. I pull the trigger, shooting him in his right thigh. “Ah, you fucking bitch!” he screams.
“Son of a bitch,” I hear Damon say. I step back and stand by Ian.
“Again. Why me?”
“Fuck you.” I point the gun at his other leg and shoot him in his left thigh.
“Let me tell you something, Stephan Lars. I’m a really good shot, just ask my boyfriend here. I point at Ian. I hear him move and groan.
“I've seen her shoot, and it's all bullseye,” Felix says, taunting him.
“The next bullet is going between your legs.” It’s not a threat if I plan on doing it. “Goddamn, baby,” Ian whispers.
I aim the gun. “Okay. Okay.” He’s trying to breathe through the pain.
“Your ex owed my brother money.”
“My ex? What ex?”
“Byran Carson. He was a regular customer. He started using in high school. He was a regular. Pills to be exact. Then he moved away. He came back to town that summer. His first stop was the bar. When it was time to pay, he didn’t have the money. We knew his parents were loaded, so we knew he had the money. His parents had bailed him out before, but they didn’t want to help. So, he decided to skip town. Bruce warned him that we would collect somehow; he didn't listen. We followed him and saw you two together. So, my brother decided to send him a message. When you walked into the bar, it was too easy.”
I take in every word.
“Want to know something? We told him you were at the bar that night, and he never replied. He knew you were in danger.” He smiles. “You looked so pretty and sad. I wonder why.” I feel Ian’s eyes. “Lester and I decided to have some fun with you. We were going to do our usual—he started, and I finished. TheXwas our thing. The asshole almost got us caught. We rushed to leave, but we couldn't just let you go. Everything was going as planned. Blame the promiscuous college student who came to the bar looking for a good time.”
I instinctively touch my scar. “Then Kyle grew a conscience. Lester was caught and sent to jail. My brother and I decided to tie up loose ends.” I listen to what he’s saying, and something in me just snaps. “I killed Kyle and made it look like a suicide. Mybrother heard Lester was going to snitch, so he put a hit on him. I kept the knife as a souvenir.”
“You stalked me. Why not leave me alone?”
“That was payback for the money my brother had to pay you. Almost one million dollars. Do you know what that did to him? To his business? But you started going to the police, drawing more attention to the case. My brother had someone working for him in the police department. That's how we knew about the calls and reports you made. He made sure they were buried. We figured you would slit your wrists or jump off a cliff. We really did a number on you.” He sounds so proud of himself. I take a step closer to him.
“How did you find me?”
“You went to Caligo Valley. I was there. I took a picture of you. I thought I was seeing things. So, I paid our friend Byran a visit in rehab.”
