Page 33 of The Reaper
“She might’ve mentioned seeing him again when I saw her a week ago, but it’s not true. It’s all bullshit…” I faltered, thinking about the details she’d gone into this time. “She did say––”
“What?” Adam pressed.
I screwed my eyes shut, fed up of dragging up the same old nightmares from my past. Why couldn’t he stay buried at the bottom of the canal? Was he intent on haunting me for the rest of my life?
“She said he was standing on the corner of her road, and when he saw her in her window, he did this salute that he always used to do before he walked away. She’s convinced it was him. But it can’t be. I know he’s dead. He was fucking gone when I dropped him in the water. I’d swear my life on it. I know how to do my job properly.”
I did know how to do my job. I was the best at it. At least, I always thought I was, but it was beginning to make me angry that I was starting to doubt myself. Not that I’d ever tell anyone.
“We have to look at all the options here. He might not be dead,” Tyler said, stoking the flames.
“Or you might’ve killed the wrong guy. Let’s face it, we’ve fucked up like that before,” Colton piped up, adding extra fuel to the fire.
I went to argue but Adam held his hand up, and with exasperation in his voice said, “There’s also the possibility that when we did our little clean-up project after you killed him that we missed someone out. Someone who knew about what went on with you and your stepfather.”
Back when we were kids at the pupil referral unit, I’d opened up and told them all about the games my stepfather used to play. I told them what I’d done to get my revenge too, and that day, we sat down and made a plan of attack, focusing on every one of Vinnie’s sick friends. Vinnie might’ve gotten his justice, but the others hadn’t, and so our game of consequences was born that day. Our first ever players were the friends Vinnie had invited to my house to torture me. One by one, we tortured them right back, only our games were slower, more sadistic, perfect for evil fuckers like them because in the end, we won. They didn’t survive to see the light of day.
I frowned and recalled every name in my mind; every face that had been involved. It wasn’t hard. Those men were eternally scarred into my brain. But there was no one else. We hadn’t slipped up and left anyone out. We were thorough.
“There is no one. They’re all gone,” I stated, knowing what I said was true.
“Okay, so someone who knew about it but didn’t take part?” Tyler asked, and I shook my head. My stepfather shared this secret with very few. Only the people involved knew what really went on. He knew how to cover his tracks and he was careful to protect himself from any accusations. He was a fucker, but he was a smart fucker.
“Why now?” I asked. “Why come forward now?” That was the part that didn’t make any sense to me. We were in the best position we’d ever been in. If someone from my past was out to get me, why not do it back when I’d killed Vinnie, when I was younger and weaker? Because at this very moment, I might only stand with four other soldiers, but together, we were a fucking formidable army.
“Maybe it isn’t just now,” Tyler added. “Maybe this is their next step. A new angle. Didn’t you say Stella was still harping on about going to the police again to report you?”
Stella.
Fucking Stella.
Was she behind this?
I wouldn’t put it past her.
That woman was the bane of my life. I sometimes wished I could go against my own fucking rules and deal with her. Get her out of our lives for good.
“Yep. Could be Stella flexing her muscles, keeping you on your toes.” Colton raised an eyebrow, and I gritted my teeth. He could be right, but in my gut, I wasn’t convinced. She was a fucking nuisance, but death threats? Would she really go that far?
“We will get to the bottom of this,” Adam announced as he stood from the sofa and held his hand out for Liv to take. “But in the meantime, I have something back at the warehouse that might help to take your mind off this. There’s nothing we can do now, so let’s do what we do best. Let’s cause a bit of mayhem. Devon, go and load up the van, choose something good from your store in the chapel, because I think you’re going to like what I’ve got planned.”
ChapterFifteen
DEVON
It felt good to be working as a team again, doing what we did best. I’d filled the van with various weapons and tools we could use. I liked to take a selection and give them all the choice. I left the crossbow in the chapel though. I needed a few more weeks of practise before I felt comfortable using it for a hit. I didn’t like to bring a weapon into play unless I knew my potential to cause maximum impact with it. For now, the crossbow was on the subs bench.
Tyler, Will, and I took the van. Adam and Colton rode behind us in the car. But we put Adam on speakerphone, so he could fill us in on the mark that was waiting for us as we drove over to the warehouse.
“He’s a sick fucker. Burgled a few houses, but the last one he did was the home of an elderly couple. He tied them up, ransacked the house. The old guy struggled to escape so he could help his wife and ended up having a heart attack. This guy walked in, saw he was dying and fucking laughed in the wife’s face. Then he left them. He fucking left them like that. The husband died right in front of his wife and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to help him because she was tied up. The son found them two days later. His dad dead and his mum just… broken. This fucker deserves everything he’s got coming to him. I swear, I’m going to enjoy breaking this one.”
Adam was right. What sort of sick fucker put money over people’s lives? He could’ve phoned an ambulance or done something, but he was heartless. Only out for himself. Those kinds of marks were my favourites though. I lived to see them suffer; sending them straight to hell with the terror their victim’s felt etched into their brain.
We hung up the phone, adrenaline coursing through our veins, ready to take out some of our pent-up aggression on a worthy target.
Once we got to the old warehouse in Brinton, we parked around the back of the building. There was no CCTV here. We’d taken care of that a long time ago, but it wasn’t clever to park and unload the weapons in full view of the estate, no matter how run-down, desolate, and deserted it looked. And boy did it look shitty.
The warehouse was on an old industrial estate that years ago would’ve been thriving with the sounds of factories working at full steam. Workers busy earning their wages, shouting across to their mates over a noisy workshop. Machines banging and grinding away to keep the economy and livelihood of Brinton Manor going. But that community had been bled dry, much like the buildings that surrounded us. Windows were broken, walls were crumbling, and weeds grew everywhere, replacing prosperity with drudgery.
