Page 79 of If You Go
“Brenden helped my sister out,” Elliot says. “Her husband was a Capitol prick who thought hitting her made him powerful. Brenden and his brothers made sure that stopped.”
“Permanently,” Brenden adds, voice flat. I nod my understanding.
At the end of the hallway, Elliot pushes through a swinging door into a room that vibrates with soft, underwater light. The glass of a massive tank glows faint blue, waves of reflection crawling up the walls. Brenden walks over to the wall near the tank and drops Gavin’s body, just straight lets go. There is a loud thud and cracking sound as he hits the ground, but neither of us pay him any mind.
“I’d like you to meet my girl, April,” Elliot says, leading us to the edge. “Grey reef shark. Born here. I was there when she was born.”
He points at a graceful figure gliding through the water, one fin slightly shorter than the other. “See that? She’s my little mutant ninja turtle. Strongest one in the shiver.”
A look of confusion spreads across my face. I have exactly zero idea what he’s talking about. But before I can ask what the hell a shiver is, Brenden beats me to it.
“What in the actual fuck is a shiver? Like when you’re cold?” Brenden looks bewildered, causing me to laugh out loud. Subtlety is not his strong suit, that’s for sure.
Elliot laughs along with me for a moment, both of us enjoying Brenden’s facial expression.
“Ya, sorry,” he begins. “I forgot I’m not talking to other shark nerds. That’s who I usually talk to back here.”
He pauses as if that’s the explanation we require.
I open my mouth, waiting to see if he will continue before I ask. But after about ten seconds, I realize he is not planning on answering.
“So, ya. What actually is a shiver? We legit don’t know,” I laugh again, this time awkwardly.
“Elliot doesn’t seem perturbed, eyes still focused on April. “It’s a group of sharks. They’re called several things depending on what they’re doing. A school, which is a general term for all fish. A shoal, that’s for when there is a group near the surface. A frenzy is not technically accurate, but that’s what it’s called when there is a group feeding. But a shiver is a group of shark, specifically.”
“Huh, I guess you learn something new every day after all,” Brenden mumbles under his breath.
“Well, she’s beautiful,” I whisper in Elliot’s direction. And I mean it.
Elliot grins, proud as a father. “This is the holding tank, by the way. Closed to the public. Everyone’s gone home. So… no witnesses, and they will clean up after themselves. Whatever they don’t get, the filtration system will. And no one would ever check that.”
“Convenient,” Brenden mutters.
“Ready when you are,” Elliot says, then looks between us. I think he notices the stress on my face because he claps his hands together before continuing. “I’ll just give you two a minute. Knock when you’re ready.” He slips away toward the adjoining office.
Brenden crouches in front of me, thumb and forefinger tipping my chin up. “You sure?”
My throat tightens. “I think so.”
He nods once. No judgment. Just faith. Then he hauls Gavin upright, pressing him against the nearest wall. The bastard’s eyes are wild now–more animal than man.
I knock on the office door. Elliot reappears, rolling up his sleeves. Together, he and Brenden drag Gavin closer to the tank’s edge, half-lifting him to sit on the ledge above the water. Gavin is thrashing, doing his best to escape their grasp, apparently not realizing where he is.
Elliot’s voice is soft, clinical. “You’re really ready to swim with my sharks, aren’t you?” Gavin freezes, looking to Elliot and then cranes his neck to see behind him. His eyes triple in size, and so do his efforts to get away.
I step forward until I’m inches from Gavin’s face. For the first time, I see it–the flicker of fear beneath the arrogance. Real, gut-deep terror.
“This is for me,” I say quietly. “This is for Natasha. For Bridget. For every woman you ever hurt.” My voice doesn’t shake. “You will never touch another woman again. This isn’t murder, Gavin. It’s taking out the trash.”
He starts to speak, sputtering nonsensical words, but I’m already pushing. Brenden and Elliot let go.
Gavin topples backward into the tank. His scream cuts off the instant he hits the water.
For a second, there’s silence. Just bubbles and the slow, drifting blur of his body sinking, tied and helpless. Then blood begins to bloom from the wounds that reopened from his thrashing–a dark ribbon spreading through the blue.
The sharks sense it instantly.
Elliot murmurs, almost reverently, “Watch their fins. That stiff, jerky motion? Means they’re about to strike.”
