And filthy.
In the bedroom, Rowan knelt to check under the bed. “He’s not here.” She started to stand and then caught her breath.
“What is it?” Evan moved behind her in the tiny room.
“That’s a case for a gun.”
He looked over her shoulder. The plastic box on the nightstand shelf that Malcolm had brushed a hand over was now open, and its inner dark egg crate foam was empty.
Malcolm took a gun.
“He’s gone after Liam and West on his own,” said Rowan. “We need to get to that other structure now.”
The two of them dashed out of the stinking building.
47
Once I had the gun in hand, I ran in the opposite direction from the SWAT team.
I was always too scared to touch the tiny gun safe. I knew where the key was; I’d seen Liam hide it several times. Many nights I dreamed of taking the gun and shooting Liam as he slept. Sometimes I shot him in his sleep. Other times I woke him so he would know it was me.
But I never had the guts to do it. I had nowhere to run to if I killed him. He made the money and supported us. He always said I was too stupid to survive on my own, and I agreed. I also knew the police would eventually figure out who killed him, and then I’d go to prison.
So I did nothing.
Until today. Now I have a place to land and family to help me.
Although family will no longer matter if I kill him. I’ll be in prison for his murder. I’ve decided I don’t care because I will not let him torture West.
No one should suffer the way I did. Or Rowan or Elijah did.
My sacrifice is worth it.
There is one other place I know where he might have taken West. I run through the woods, breathing hard, the gun clasped in my hand. Its solid weight empowers me, and I feel a confidence I’ve never experienced before.
I’ve never fired a gun. Never even held one. But I’ve read about firing them in books. I know to release the safety. I know to aim for the largest mass. I know I will probably miss the first time. I wish I could take a practice shot now, but I don’t want to give away my location.
I want him.
I told Rowan I needed closure. Killing Liam will give me more peace than watching Detective Bolton destroy that box.
It’s a long way through the woods. I alternate between jogging and walking. When I ran from the work site yesterday seems so long ago. I swore to never return to this place, but here I am the next damned day.
I will stop Liam. I will put an end to this “family” legacy that he is so driven to continue. He will pay for what he did to me and Rowan. For what he did to those two women and Elijah. I suspect there are more recent victims. His odd behavior the last few weeks was identical to how he acted when he murdered the people I buried.
Did the SWAT team find more bodies in the shed?
I push on, stepping over tree roots and tripping over my own aching feet. The air smells like sun-warmed pine needles and sagebrush, and it’s quiet except for the sound of my breathing. I listen hard for the sound of water. I’ll know I’m close when I hear the river. I stop, resting my hands on my thighs. I’m light-headed and sweating.
The book I took from my hiding spot is tucked in the waistband of my jeans and slick with sweat. I didn’t want to leave without it. It was one more fuck you to Liam that I stole a book he refused to let me read.
And I wanted to finish the story about the odd Los Angeles private investigator and his big, tough, silent sidekick.
I hear them before I hear the water.
Liam is yelling at West, telling him he must work hard and be good.
My skin crawls at the words I’ve heard so many times. It is odd to not be on the receiving end for once. I slowly sneak closer, moving from tree trunk to tree trunk until I can see them next to the river. It is Liam’s favorite spot. Near where we buried the bodies.
West is carrying rocks. Liam has him moving big river rocks from one pile to another, and the boy is blindfolded. The water is halfway to his knees, and he trips. I wince as he falls and cries out as he smashes his fingers under the rock he’s carrying.
My fingers ache in sympathy. This is a favorite task of Liam’s. I think I’ve moved every rock along the river that I was strong enough to lift. I touch the skin next to my eyes, remembering the disorientation of the blindfold.
“No sniffling! And if you complain one more time, no dinner.”
“I want my mom!”
“No dinner,” Liam says in a disappointed voice. “Why did you make me say it? I don’t want to see you go hungry, but you broke the rule. I have no choice but to punish you for it.”