his head to whatever is being said on the other end of the line.
“No. I have no interest in that fucking kind of justice. I’ll take care of it myself. Bring him here. I’ll save the taxpayers a ton of fucking money.”
He stiffens, his eyes sweeping over the three of us.
“You’re not in any place to threaten me, motherfucker. If I don’t get what I want, you won’t see them alive again.”
Both boys are trembling against my own shaking legs. He’s made numerous threats since he arrived, but they were mostly random mumbled thoughts. We have all of his attention right now, and the anger in his eyes tells me he has a point to prove and things are going to end badly.
“I loved her. I took a step back. She wanted Dennis. No one ever wants me, but I loved her enough that I wanted to see her happy.” A tear rolls down his cheek.
The sight of it makes me whimper. He’s beginning to break and not in a good way. He no longer feels any hope.
“He took the most beautiful thing in the world away from me, and if you don’t give me what I want, I’m going to do the same to you.”
He doesn’t even bother hanging up before throwing the phone against the wall where it shatters into a dozen pieces. He’s effectively broken any further line of communication.
I want to close my eyes to what I know is coming. The police rarely give in to demands, and if they do, it’s only because it somehow gives them the upper hand. Regardless of who is in this house, the Farmington Police would never, and I mean never, let a murderer out of jail so his brother could kill him. It doesn’t work that way. I know this, and telling by the shaking going on near my legs, the guys know this too. Milton must be too high from hours of snorting drugs to realize the truth of the situation. Hopefully he keeps believing they’ll give in so it gives the police and possibly my dad the chance to rectify this situation before it goes to shit.
“He loves you.” He’s looking at me with irritation. “And a man who loves a woman that much will do anything to protect her. Do you love him?”
I don’t know if he’s referring to Colton or my dad, but the answer is still the same.
I nod my head trying to speak and tell him that I do love him, but the gag only allows for muffled sounds.
“A man with both his woman and his son threatened is more likely to get shit done.”
Ah, so it was Colton on the phone.
He sniffs, the back of his hand swiping at his running nose.
I can’t recall how long it takes an addict to come down and need another fix, but I hope the guys act fast because even though this man has been doing enough drugs to keep a small city high for days, I don’t think he’s going to keep it together much longer.
“Do you know how hard it’s been to look at myself in the mirror?”
I don’t bother attempting to answer him as he walks to the mirror hanging on the far wall. Despite his words, he stares at his reflection as if he’ll be able to get all of his answers from the man staring back.
“I have his face. I’ve always been nicer. I’d never hit a woman the way he hit Penny.”
He must have memory failure because my face still throbs from his repeated blows.
“Yet, she chose him. They always choose him.” He spins to face me. “What is it about abusive men that makes women keep crawling back? Do you like it when men talk down to you? Do you think you can change them?”
I shake my head as he steps closer, hating the way Landon and Rick attempt to stay in front of me. I don’t want them to protect me. I need to be the one protecting them.
“Answer me!” he roars.
But how can I? I don’t understand women like that because I’ve never been in that situation, and explaining the psychology of women who stay in abusive relationships would not only be lost on his drug-addled mind, but it’s impossible to do so with a fucking gag in my mouth.
I whimper, turning my head to the side when he lifts his hand once again, only this time it isn’t his fist he’s threatening me with. The gun