The Beautiful and the Damned (18 page)

“Wait a minute. Wait just a minute.” Mint suddenly let out a low whistle, and Avian
switched the phone to his other hand as he started up his bike.

“What?”

“It’s not good.”

“Just tell me, Mint. I don’t have time to fuck around.”

“Well, to start with, Declan Thomas used to be a cop.”

“Used to be?” Avian pulled out of the shed and headed toward the diner.

“Yeah. He was with the NYPD in Manhattan for two years. But he lost his badge a couple
months ago. Right around the time his little brother was murdered.”

A sick feeling hit Avian in his gut. He knew what Mint was going to say next.

“The brother’s name was Hunter.  Thomas was apparently under investigation for a couple
of brutality incidents before all that, but his brother’s death seemed to be the thing
that set him off. He was committed to a voluntary ninety-day program at a psychiatric
hospital for evaluation. But he checked himself out after a week.”

Hunter was the name of the dead boyfriend Cyn mentioned, and Declan was his brother.
A crazy ex-cop obsessed with finding his kid brother’s killer, and a sudden interest
in Cyn.

He’d bet his right arm that that wasn’t a coincidence.

“You know this guy?” Mint asked.

“Yeah. And that’s not even the complicated part.” Avian hit the highway and accelerated.
He was still ten minutes away from the diner.
Too far.

“I know you don’t need me to tell you this, but be careful, man.”

“Noted.”

Avian’s voice was hard.

Mint got the message loud and clear. “Anything more you need from me?”

“That’s it.”

“Good luck with him, then. And call me sometime when you don’t have a crazy cop on
your hands, okay? Better yet, come down and see me before—”

But Avian didn’t hear what Mint said. He’d already hung up the phone.

T
he Yoo-Hoo bottle Cyn was holding hit the floor, and glass flew everywhere. She flinched
at the sound. Lenny’s eyes were wide with fear.

“If this is about Hunter,” she said, “then let’s talk. Just you and me. Leave Lenny
out of it.”

“Oh, yeah, we’re going to talk about Hunter.” Declan pressed the barrel of the gun
tightly against Lenny’s temple. “But not here.”

“Do you think you’ll be back for the—” Marv was looking down at the payroll binder
as he came out of his office but stopped short when he saw what was going on. “Holy
shit, man. What are you
doing
? I thought you were a cop? Put the gun down.”

While Declan was distracted by Marv, Cyn realized that she was standing beside the
box of mangled spoons the disposal had chewed up and spit back out again. Several
of them were so twisted, they resembled ice picks more than silverware. She nudged
the edge of the chair beside her so that it tipped over. Declan shot her a glare.
“Sorry,” she said quickly. “I get clumsy when I’m nervous.”

Bending over to pick up the chair, Cyn grabbed one of the spoon remnants and shoved
it in her pocket. It wasn’t much, but at least it was something.

Declan glanced back over at Marv. “I needed to have a little chat with one of your
waitresses here and had to do something to get her attention. She didn’t make my burger
right.”

“There’s no need for any of this,” Marv replied. “We can get you a new burger right
now, on the house. What do you want on it? Lettuce? Onions? Tomat—”

“It’s not about a burger, Marv,” Cyn said.

The stench of burning french fries permeated the air, adding to the tension in the
room.

“She’s right about that.” Declan pulled the gun back slightly. “I appreciate the offer,
though. I’ll have to take you up on it next time. Now I think me and Cyn here need
to find someplace a little more private to talk.”

“She’s not going anywhere with you,” Marv rebutted.

But Cyn was already nodding her agreement.
Whatever it takes to get you to put the gun down.
“Yeah, sure.”

Marv turned to face her. “Cynsation, you don’t have to do this.”

“We’re just going to talk. Right?” she asked Declan.

“Of course,” Declan promised, but the smile on his face told a different story.

All I have to do is get the gun as far away from Marv and Lenny as possible. I don’t
care what he does to me. I just can’t let anyone else get hurt.
“Okay. Let’s go.”

Declan gestured for Cyn to come to him and grabbed a fistful of Lenny’s shirt to move
him out of her way. Lenny had just put up both hands, to show that he was going to
comply, when Margaret burst through the swinging door, yelling that she needed her
fries for table twelve, and caught sight of Declan.

“Oh my God!” she screamed. “He’s got a gun!”

She immediately fell to her knees and covered her head with her hands, begging to
be able to see her children again.

“Am I pointing this gun at you, sweetheart?” Declan said. “
No.
So calm the fuck down.” He aimed it in Cyn’s direction again. “
You
get over here. Nobody else move.”

When Cyn didn’t move fast enough, Declan cocked the hammer. “Let’s get this shit rolling.
I don’t have all day.”

Everything happened in a split second after that. Cyn started toward Declan, and he
gave Lenny a hard shove in the direction of the fryer. Lenny lost his balance and
skidded on the linoleum floor, landing face first in the boiling grease.

Screams of pain filled the air, mingling with the scent of burning flesh and scorched
potatoes, and Marv went running to Lenny, trying to haul him out by the waistband
of his pants. Lenny kept screaming and thrashing, so Marv couldn’t get a firm grip.
Finally, he yanked on Lenny’s shirt so hard, it ripped.

They both collapsed in a heap on the floor.

“You’re gonna be fine,” Marv kept saying, trying to comfort him. “It’s not that bad.
You’re gonna be fine.”

Margaret was wailing in the corner, and Declan shook his head in disgust at the scene
in front of him. He pushed Cyn toward the back door with the muzzle of his gun. “Outside.”

Her feet started to move on their own, and she willed Marv to look up. To let her
know that Lenny really was going to be fine. That everything really was going to be
okay.

But Marv was too busy trying to hold the peeling skin of his employee’s face together.

Declan followed Cyn to the door and shoved the gun into her ribs. Propelling her toward
a side street, he walked closely beside her to hide his lethal motivation from any
witnesses.
They came to a white car, and he made her get in the driver’s seat while he kept the
gun trained on her.

He instructed her to start the car and drive. Cyn just concentrated on keeping her
eyes on the road. They passed a junkyard, and he told her to stop. “Go back. Pull
in there.”

Cyn pulled up to the padlocked gates marked
PETE’S SALVAGE YARD
. It was after hours, and they were clearly closed.

“Get out,” Declan said.

Cyn followed his instructions, discreetly looking around to see if there was any way
to escape. She almost jumped out of her skin when he suddenly shot the lock off the
gate. “Jesus Christ! Give me some warning next time. You scared the shit out of me.”

Declan laughed and roughly grabbed her arm. Dragging her behind him, he nudged one
of the heavy gates open just far enough so they could squeeze through.

Walking into the junkyard immediately made Cyn claustrophobic. It was a graveyard
for cars. Half-buried in the ground like forgotten tombstones, rusty vehicles loomed
in shadows all around her. Busted glass and bits of metal crunched beneath her feet.

“It’s quiet,” Declan said, glancing around. “I like that.” He wandered over to the
raised trunk of an old car and pushed it down. The sound of heavy metal clunking shut
echoed ominously
around them. “Unless the smell got to be too bad, no one would find a body left here
for a long, long time.”

Cyn tried to tamp down the sense of panic springing up inside her.
He’s going to kill me and leave me here.

“You should have just followed through with your plan at the gas station. That would
have made everything easier.” Declan walked back around to the front of the car and
opened the driver’s side door.

“What plan at the gas station?”

He reached under the dashboard. A second later, the latch on the trunk made a popping
noise. “To shoot yourself.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

He stood back up and said, “Trunk. Now.”

Cyn hesitated. She wasn’t going to sign her own death warrant
that
easily. But Declan shoved the gun up against her forehead.

“Do you really want this to get messy?” he said in a calm voice. “Don’t make me ask
again.”

Cyn slowly moved toward the car. “What . . .” Her voice cracked, and she had to try
again. “What did you mean, my plan to shoot myself?”

“I saw you at the gas station.” Declan gestured to the trunk. “
Go
on.” He waited until she climbed in before he spoke again.
“You had a gun to your head but didn’t pull the trigger. Couldn’t go through with
it, huh?”

Cyn shifted to her side and pulled her knees up.
I put the gun to my head? Why didn’t Thirteen tell me that?

Something sharp poked her shoulder, and she put one hand behind her to move whatever
it was. Cold metal registered against her fingertips, and she realized it was a tire
iron. A blunt, heavy tire iron.

She had to move fast. She’d dug her own grave now—but she had no intention of lying
in it.

“You’re right,” Cyn said, her fingers wrapping around the tire iron. She tensed up.
“I guess I couldn’t go through with it.” She purposefully lowered her voice. “So you
can fuck off.”

“What’s that?” Declan bent down so he could hear what she said.

“I said,
fuck off
, asshole.” Cyn sat up and swung the tire iron. It was so heavy, her shoulder muscles
screamed at the motion, but she held on and took aim at Declan’s mouth. The tire iron
connected, and a spray of blood and teeth erupted from his face.

Declan stumbled backward and landed flat on his back. The gun flew from his hand.
He made a wet, gurgling noise as he lay on the ground, and Cyn listened to him for
just a
second before her brain suddenly kicked into gear.
Go! Go! Go!

Cyn climbed out of the trunk as fast as she could. She wasted precious time scanning
the ground for the gun, but the landscape was too overrun with littered car parts
for her to find it.

Forget it, just go!

Cyn turned back around to head for the gates, but something suddenly blocked her path.

She saw red eyes first, and then the rest of him. Lips pulled back to reveal wicked-looking
teeth, massive paws, and broad shoulders. It was a guard dog. The biggest, meanest,
nastiest-looking guard dog she’d ever seen. And it was staring right at her.

Declan made a noise somewhere between a yell and a groan, and she knew it wouldn’t
be long until he got up again. She was running out of time.

Cyn stared down the dog.
Just let me go. Eat him. He’ll make a tasty snack.

As if on cue, the dog’s spine stiffened, and the hair on its back rose up.

She almost thought she saw smoke coming off of it.

With a growl that rumbled deep from its belly, the dog sprang into action and covered
the distance between her and Declan with a single leap. Declan’s groans turned to
screams,
and Cyn couldn’t stop herself from shuddering at the sound of bones crunching and
flesh ripping. Taking advantage of the opportunity, she ran as fast as she could for
the gate.

She never even realized that Declan had found his gun again and she should have been
looking behind her.

C
yn made it to the gates and squeezed her way through before stopping to catch her
breath.
I have to get to Thirteen. He’ll know what to do about Declan.