Page 90 of Falcon

“Technically, they’re not…”

“Shut up, Falcon,” Farell ordered, and I snorted.

Minutes became an hour, then four more passed. Farell had contacted SWAT, and they were ready to breach.

“I want my Ma,” Rawson suddenly yelled.

“We can call her,” Farell called.

“Do it.”

“Think he’s getting ready to surrender?” I asked. This didn’t sit right.

“No, the fuckers’ going to suicide by cop,” Farell replied. He nodded to a nearby deputy.

“Go get Wanda-Faye down here.”

Another hour passed, and I kept Calamity updated. He was strangely quiet, and I was surprised he wasn’t here. Finally, a car rolled up with Wanda-Faye. She stared with hatred at all of us.

“Wanda-Faye, you need to talk Rawson down. He’s stopping us reaching Dawson,” Farell said as her gaze latched onto Dawson. He’d stopped twitching hours ago.

“My boy,” she gritted out.

“Make Rawson surrender, and we’ll be able to get Dawson help,” Farell pushed.

“Fine.” Wanda-Faye was rigid. There was pure hate in her eyes, and my gut tensed. Shit, this was about to turn dark.

“Rawson Beauregard!” Wanda-Faye bellowed.

“Ma!” he called back. “I didn’t mean to kill Merle; he was screwing us over.”

“Shut your mouth. Get your ass out here,” Wanda-Faye ordered.

“Not until you understand. Merle was a rat, and Lawson planned to hand himself in. Thought the cops would go easy on us for what we did to Dawson’s cunt. I had to silence him. He was turning snitch.”

“Said quieten down, boy,” Wanda-Faye snapped.

“And Dawson, he wanted to tell the pigs it was me that beat his woman. Dirty bastard. Who sticks it to a brother, Ma? They all pushed me to kill them, you understand, right?”

“I know you killed family, Rawson. Murdered your own blood,” Wanda-Faye shrieked. “Get out here and die like a man! You piece of shit!”

“Crap,” I muttered.

“Wanda-Faye, leave!” Farell ordered, but the bitch was up and running her mouth.

“Should’a drowned you at birth. Always knew you were a wrong-un. Mean-spirited, just like your daddy. I didn’t beat the badness outta ya!” Wanda-Faye screeched, her eyes on Dawson’s lifeless body.

“Ma!”

“That’s my baby!” Wanda-Faye yelled, and a sob tore from her. “Should be you lying there, Rawson.”

There it was: the trigger. Rawson burst from the cabin, firing madly.

Deputies and SWAT opened fire, and he went down in a hail of bullets. Silence fell, and I glanced across at Wanda-Faye staring at Rawson’s body with sheer hatred. With a muffled sob she began staggering towards Dawson, but a deputy caught her and restrained her.

Wanda-Faye turned with despair in her eyes, which became hate again when she saw me.

“Tell that slut she’ll pay for my boys’ deaths. She’s behind this. Myka will learn what grief is,” Wanda-Faye promised.