Page 67 of Wreckage of Us
“You mean, like you screwed him over?”
“That was different,” he waves the gun around. “Anyway,” he looks at Shorty funny, and I got a bad feeling about what’s about to happen. “Shorty, go check in with Snake.” Fuck, that makes sense. Snake was a sniper in the military. He may be old and who knows in what kind of shape, but he can obviously still shoot.
“You’ll get Sugar for me, yeah?” Shorty slaps at the side of his head again.
“Sure thing, son,” Pops assures him.
Without another word, Shorty turns around and walks to the sliding door. He opens it, steps outside and starts walking toward the back of the property where the old bush was. He acts like he knows his way around. All this time, I thought someone was out there, and there really was.
My eyes never leave his small frame when he gets to the spot of fresh dirt where the bush used to be. He is right in the middle of it when it blows up. As if in slow motion, I watch dirt and body parts hitting the ground.
This means one thing. Puck and Sully are either outside watching it, or on the cameras, so they know what’s going on. That’s the only explanation I have for why the dynamite I buried back there just exploded. It wasn’t that much in there, just enough to rock the ground a little.
I turn my head back to my father, but he seems unphased by what we just witnessed.
“Snake was supposed to kill him. He was a loose end,” Pops shrugs. “He got me all the information I needed.”
“What about Sugar?” I wouldn’t be surprised if the bitch is somewhere close to Ethan now, waiting to snatch him off the street. I sure hope Wyatt knows what the fuck he is doing out there.
“Whore’s dead,” Pops surprises me when he announces.
“Why did Shorty think she was alive?”
“Because I had to keep him motivated to do his job, right?” Pops starts laughing until he’s almost chocking on it. It all turns into a coughing fit.
As soon as I figure out how many people he actually has out there, I am taking him out, I decide.
“Anyway,” he wheezes out. “As I was saying.” He starts coughing again. “Your ma’s on her way with the girl. Shorty made sure to send them messages. That was fun. Paying the other moron to show up at her door was genius too,” he comments with amusement lacing his tone. I’m assuming he’s talking about Dr. Douche’s ex. “I’m gonna kill Arlene as soon as she walks in,” he snickers, like he’s telling me a secret, completely unaware of the tumultuous thoughts in my head. “I’m gonna keep the girl until she has the baby. I’ll finally get the son I deserve.”
Thoughts of Becca coming face to face with this piece of human trash slam into me. That cannot happen.
All of a sudden, I jump off the couch, not caring about Snake out there or anything else. I need to kill this fucker once and for all. He can’t have my woman or either one of my kids.
“You’re a dead man,” he wheezes in my face.
“Nah,youare, Pops,” I grin at him.
I am expecting a bullet to my head any second now, so I hurry up and wrap my hands around Pops’ throat and squeeze hard.
“Dylan, we’re home,” Becca’s voice echoes from out of nowhere, distracting me from my task. “Something happened in the back yard, there’s smoke, and… oh my god,” she screams when she finally sees what I’m busy doing.
“Fuck,” Ma’s voice calls out.
Those few seconds of distraction are costing me. I don’t take my hands off Pops’ neck when I hear his gun going off in between us. I am hoping that it’s him it got when I don’t feel anything. I am finally killing the fucker, I think to myself.
All of a sudden, my hands get weak, and my vision gets blurry.
“Dylan,” Becca cries out, but I can’t focus on anything right now. Pops’ face goes in and out, and when he pushes at my chest, I just fall to the side.
My head hurts really bad all of a sudden, and the pain in my chest is unbearable. I lower my chin to look down and am shocked when I see a large dark stain slowly forming on the front of my sweatshirt.
“What the fuck…” I slur. I force myself to keep my eyes open and go after him again. But it’s like I am drunk. Nothing works.
What about Becca and the kids?
That’s my last conscious thought before darkness takes me under.
19
