Unlovable (43 page)

His face was flushed, and he was
sweating profusely now. “His phone’s dead, besides, we both know
he’d probably end up killing himself trying to get here in this
weather. Please, Maggie, with 9-1-1 being backed up, it’ll be
faster if you drive,” he said, clutching the front of his shirt. My
eyes darted to the window. The small thunderstorm had blossomed
into a full-blown monsoon. “The key’s on the hook by the back door.
Go get the Roadster and pull it around to the front. I don’t think
I can make it all the way to the back garage.”

I grabbed the black rectangular key,
and punched the complicated code into Booker’s security system. I
ran down the pathway to the back garage, darted through the narrow
hall, passing by the samurai swords. I entered the garage, quickly
tapping the garage door opener, and scurried over to the car.
Before I could climb in, someone jumped out of the shadows. My
breath caught in my throat.

“
This was just too easy,”
spewed an oily voice; it was one of the Dreser brothers. He was the
smaller, less evil looking of the two, not that there was much of a
difference. The first thing I noticed was the blood red eyes
embedded deeply beneath two bushy eyebrows; he was high. I also
noticed the little silver gun from before, held tightly in his
hand.

“
Where’s Booker’s
Granddaddy?”

“
He’s not here,” I lied. “He
wasn’t feeling good so Booker took him to the hospital.” I tried
subtly to head back toward the hallway.

“
Take another step, girlie,
I’ll kill you right this minute,” he said, his voice was as smooth
as silk and deadly.

He leisurely skirted around me,
licking his lips and smiling. I slipped my hand into my pocket and
wrapped it around my cell phone. My only thoughts were of Sam. I
had to get him some help. But who should I call?

“
Get your hands where I can
see them. Oh, and hand me your cell phone,” Bill said.

“
I don’t have a cell
phone.”

“
Yeah, right. Then what are
you clutching in that pocket of yours?” he snapped. “Hand it over,
now!”

I pulled my hands out and slid the
phone across the garage floor. It stopped at his feet, and he
crushed it with his massive foot. “Car keys,” Bill said, wiggling
his fingers. I tossed the box to him and he dropped it to the
ground, crushing it also into a wad of unrecognizable plastic and
circuitry.

“
Do you know why I’m here?”
I didn’t answer him. “My father wants us to avenge our brother’s
murder,” he said, smoothing his ugly black shirt. “Me and Alan are
also hoping to boost heroin sales for daddy dearest while we’re at
it. There is a lot of potential in Port Fare. Of course, if Alan
doesn’t stop killing those young girls just for the sport of it…”
He shook his head in disgust.

“
Just for the sport? He
killed all those girls just because?”

“
What can I say? The guy’s
ruthless with a knife, always has been,” he shrugged. “He’s amazing
to watch once he gets started.” Sickened, I leaned against the car,
praying Sam would stay inside and not come looking for me. “Alan
ordered me to kill the old guy, Sam. He’s going to be real upset
that I got to kill you instead of him. He thinks you are just about
the prettiest little thing he’s ever seen,” he said, grinning.
“You’ve made it hard for him to concentrate on our assignment.
Maybe now with you out of the way, I’ll have an easier time keeping
him on task.

“
Remember
the night in the park? Alan swears you saw him. He watched you
sitting there all by yourself, wanting you so badly. When we
learned you were involved with the scum cop, it was a like a bonus.
He could kill you
and
cause the cop pain.”

A chill ran through my body, I was
never going to see Seth again. The monster began walking toward me.
“Please, please don’t do this,” I pleaded.

“
I wonder if my brother
Jeffery begged your MET buddies before they killed him.” The smile
abruptly disappeared from Bill’s face. He started circling around
me once more, his withered tongue slithering across his
lips.

My eyes traveled around the garage,
searching for something, anything, I could use to defend myself
with, yet in my heart, I knew the effort was fruitless. I saw a
section of two by four, two feet in length, next to Booker’s
woodworking tools. Bill followed my gaze and walked over to pick up
the board.

“
Thanks, girlie. I was
hoping to use something other than my gun.” He slipped the gun into
the pocket of his black slacks. “They’re too easy, you know what I
mean. Just aim and shoot, then the fun’s over.”

He preferred to beat me to death with
a chunk of wood? My only hope now was to keep him talking. Maybe
Booker would be his normal over-protective self and check on his
grandfather again.

“
Your brother Jeffery was
killing children,” I blurted out. It wasn’t the most brilliant
thing to say to a savage killer, but my mind was a complete
blank.

His red eyes flared. “Do you have any
idea how hard it is to be the son of an infamous drug smuggler? The
pressure can drive you crazy! Jeffery had to build up the clientele
or lose his ranking in the family business. He was tired of being
dad’s muscle, like Alan and me!”

Bill mopped up the sweat that had
gathered on his forehead with his jacket sleeve. “Jeffery was sick.
He didn’t have a choice. He… He had a nervous condition.” He ran
his fingers through his greasy hair. “He couldn’t handle stress.
Children are weak and easily manipulated,” he said, shaking his
head.

“
Jeffery was a coward.” I
spun around to see Sam leaning against the door with one of the
samurai swords in his hand. He looked horrible. He was pale, and
his face was shiny with perspiration. “Your brother was the worst
type of human. To prey on children is sick and depraved, he
deserved to die.”

“
You deserve to die, old
man!” Bill was enraged by Sam’s words and ran straight toward him.
Sam hoisted the sword up, and the crazed killer stopped.

“
You lied to me, girlie.” He
shook a stubby finger at me. “And you, old man, are too weak to
kill me with that so put it down.”

“
Not happening. Put down the
piece of wood and your gun, then we’ll talk.”

Bill laughed. “On second thought,
pops, I like your spunk. It would be a shame to kill you off right
away. I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. I’m going to allow you a
few more minutes of life by killing girlie here first. You get to
experience the pain of seeing someone you care about die, and I get
to beat the life out of a liar,” he said, his face tight. “It’s a
win-win situation, for me, anyway. And out of respect for the
elderly, I’ll even kill you with my gun.”

He started back toward me, but Sam
stepped between us. “No deal, scum.” He still had the sword pointed
at Bill, except his pencil-thin arms shook violently under the
weight. Bill continued walking slowly toward us.

“
You can’t do it, old man,”
Bill reiterated. “You can barely lift the sword.”

“
If I’m incapable of killing
you with this, why are you sweating so badly?” Sam asked
defiantly.

“
I’m ashamed to admit it,
but I hate pain. You can’t possibly kill me with that thing, even
so, you might get a lucky poke in.” He took another step toward
us.

Sam’s arms finally gave
out, and the tip of the sword clanked against the concrete garage
floor. In my mind were Booker’s pain-filled eyes from earlier, his
words
I just can’t lose him
ran riot through my head. I had to do something,
this evilness was not going to kill Sam, not if I could help
it.

“
Wait. If you let him go
back inside, you can have me, I won’t put up a fight,” I said,
hoping he’d bargain.

“
Maybe I like the fight,”
Bill said, adding a brutal grin.

“
Okay, I’ll fight you with
my last dying breath. However you want it.”

“
However I want it?” I knew
by the sickening grin on Bill’s face we were no longer talking
about my dying quickly. My soul cringed with thoughts of the
sadistic torture he was going to inflict on me.

I took a deep breath and whispered,
“Yes.”

"NO!" shouted Sam.

“
Alan’s going to regret me
coming here instead of him. Old man, leave.”

“
Not going to happen,
freak!” Sam stepped in front of me again and raised the
sword.

“
Sam, you’re all Booker has
left. Please go.”

“
I’m an old man, Maggie. My
time is up.”

“
Please,” I said
weakly.

“
I’ll stab him with the
sword, you jump in the car and go.

“
He crushed the key, I
can’t. Besides, I’m not leaving without you.”

“
Fine. Run into the house. I
can keep him busy enough for you to get inside and turn the
security code on, including the electrical current.”

“
No,” I pleaded once
more.

He ignored me. “I’ve already called
the police, they should be here any minute.” I listened, but there
were no sirens. The weather was still slowing everyone
down.

“
Hey, old man, I can hear
you!” Bill looked at Sam as if he were some stupid creature. “I can
kill you and the girl,” he said, patting the gun in pocket, “in
less than two seconds. Actually, this lovely creature has planted
some rather exciting thoughts into my head. Slow torture is such a
lovely way to die,” he cooed. “Put the sword down, you old fool,
and I swear you won’t feel a thing.”

“
I don’t think so. Why don’t
you come and get it, chicken? ”

“
Maybe I should just use my
gun, you stubborn old fool.” Bill stood there, fingering the gun,
then slid it back in his pocket. “Na, too easy! 2x4 it is,
Pops.”

Bill sauntered toward us, taking two
steps forward, and one back, playing Sam like a cat with a mouse.
Sam hoisted the sword back up. His arms immediately began shaking
again under its weight, causing him to topple over onto one knee. I
went to reach for the sword when Sam looked back and winked at
me.

It was a trick!

Bill leapt at us, the two by four
raised high above his head. Sam lifted the sword with all the
strength of a 20 year-old man, and shoved it into Bill, impaling
him through the chest. Clutching at the sword as blood gushed
out of his wound, Bill fell over sideways with a loud guttural cry
escaping his perverse lips. He twisted franticly on the ground
before he finally stopped breathing.

Sam dropped to the ground at almost
the exact same moment. “Maggie, call 911.”

“
I thought you already
did!”

“
I lied.”

I ran in and grabbed the phone,
calling for help as I went back out to Sam. “Hold on, please don’t
die. Booker needs you.” I cradled him in my arms while my tears
soaked his shirt. I told him over again what Booker had said
earlier, as if I could somehow guilt him into living. Booker
arrived in less than two minutes.

I briefly explained what had happened
while he lifted Sam up and placed him into the police car. He then
ran over to his POC car and removed a small handgun from the trunk,
handing it to me as he ordered me to get inside and stay there. He
was beyond angry, and I didn’t protest. I immediately set all the
alarms and called Seth.

32

I sat on the floor of the
living room, with the gun at my side and my arms wrapped tightly
around my knees, rocking back and forth.
Where’s Seth? Why doesn’t he answer his stupid cell
phone?

I’d called the hospital to find out
what was happening with Sam and slammed the phone down in
frustration when the receptionist wouldn’t tell me anything. Only
after I heard the back door open did I realize it’d gotten dark.
Grabbing the gun, I darted behind a cabinet. A familiar shadow
passed through the door and headed straight toward me, pinning me
to the wall. Seth! I buried myself in his chest. A hand came down
firmly over my mouth, squelching my voice.

“
Is there someone else in
the house?” Seth whispered in my ear. I shook my head and he
released me.

“
Why are you back already?
Why didn’t you call me?” I shouted my questions at him in a
flurry.

“
The trial ended sooner than
I thought so I took an earlier flight home to surprise you. Booker
called this afternoon to let me know you were staying with Sam.
What exactly went on here?” His eyes focused on the gun in my hand
as I gave him a quick rundown. He was on the phone before I
finished. He must have gotten the same obnoxious receptionist
because he slammed the phone down, muttering under his
breath.

“
Is the body still in the
garage?” he asked, walking toward the door.

“
No, the coroner came an
hour ago.”

Booker’s car pulled up before Seth
could ask any more questions. He walked in and sank down onto the
couch. His face was stoic.

“
How’s Sam?” Seth asked
cautiously.

“
Dead,” Booker answered
coldly. I dropped to my knees in silent tears.