Page 54 of Between Brothers

“Shut up. Your bawling and squealing isn’t becoming of a future inmate. You wanted to be my dream, my every thought, my fantasy. Look at you now… Boo hoo, King left one little fucker leaking.” I scoffed and shook my head, “You disappoint me. I thought you were ride or die material. I really believed you were perfect. Thought you had the whole Ol’ lady mentality, and here you’re as fragile as a doeling.”

I gave my best imitation of a baby goat, the sudden shrill sound making her come off the floor a little with how hard she flinched.

“Fucking pitiful.”

“I didn’t have anything to do with this. You can’t frame me for this.” She wasn’t protesting, so much as she was pleading.

“I never said I was telling a soul, I was just letting you know what would happen if you ever found yourself so inclined. Now, take your shirt off.

She slowly blinked, a full body tremor coming over her.

“Take it off, or I will,” I calmly advised.

She snatched the shirt over her head and threw it at me.

“Good girl,” I condescended.

“What are you going to do to me?” she meekly asked.

“Not a damn thing. I’m going to keep this, in case you decide to loosen those lips for anything more than what you’re made for.”

She kept blinking at me like she wasn’t catching on.

“Why? What good is my shirt?”

“I told you it’s covered in gunshot residue. It’s all the proof I need to convince people that you helped me do it. Imagine if Forty found out before the cops…” I glanced toward the crimson puddle spreading away from Paxton’s lifeless form. “That was his only son.”

“I’m not going to tell,” she frantically promised.

“Oh, I know. If I doubted it for a minute, you’d be lying next to him, sweetheart.”

The horror in her pretty eyes was worth every second I wasted spelling shit out for her.

“Get the fuck out of here, and remember…” I fisted the shirt and waved it at her. “I’ll always have this.”

She moved in that stunned way, shakily shuffling toward the exit.

I felt like a genius as I followed her out, mounted Roy’s bike, and finally headed home.

The living room was dark, making the red light of the oversized digital clock stand out as I entered.

It was five minutes until nine.

Not bad, all things considered. I hadn’t anticipated being done until well after midnight.

“The fuck are you looking so smug for?” the ol’ man sneered, drawing my attention to the looming shadow in the kitchen.

I gravitated toward him fully expecting to see Roy sitting pretty at the table, but his usual spot was empty.

“Well…” Birdman pressed, his tone growing impatient.

“Well, what? I fucking handled my business. Where the hell is he?” I tipped my head toward Royal’s place.

“She’s dead?” He didn’t beat around the bush; he wanted concrete confirmation.

“No,” The minute the word left my mouth his face crumpled with disgust, and he swiped the air like I was wasting his time, until I furthered, “I left Paxton cold and leaking, though.”

His gaze snapped to mine, and I knew he was looking for some sign of fuckery.