Shadow of Vengeance (40 page)

Now, one was dead and the other…a cold-blooded killer.
 

*

“Good afternoon, Puke. I trust your day is going well.”

The pledge glared at him with hatred and disdain. Regret momentarily crept into his chest. Before last night, before he’d taken the belt to the boy, there had been a glimmer of trust in his pledge’s eyes. But that was gone and it would never come back. What he planned to do this afternoon would assure that.
 

Without a backward glance, he crossed the basement and opened a small, metal toolbox. An assortment of ropes and cords greeted him. He sifted through the box until he found the thin spool of twine necessary for today’s calisthenics. Normally, at this point, eagerness would fill his body giving him a euphoric high. But his week hadn’t gone as planned. Being forced to rush through the hazing left him hollow. He’d looked forward to this particular Hell Week the moment he’d discovered his puke would attend Wexman University. Last spring, when the boy’s name had showed up on his radar, he’d thought of nothing else. He’d daydreamed about the moments they’d share together. The trusting bond he would build with his puke, and how he’d destroy it.
 

Last night, he’d allowed his emotions to gain the best of him. When Junior had set foot into the basement, he’d sobered. He’d allowed his rage to surface and with it came the realization that all would not be lost. Besides, even God had taken a day off, why shouldn’t he take two? Disposing of the pledge earlier than planned gave him the weekend to rejoice. Maybe he’d join his fellow Townies for a drink, don one of the ridiculous Bigfoot masks he’d seen students wearing around campus in celebration of the festival.
 

He pulled the twine taut. Or maybe he’d kill Junior. Once the pledge was gone, rotting in the bottom of the well with his fraternity
brothers
, he would have no use for her. She’d served a purpose, and he now realized that she also, inadvertently, had given him something else. With her fuck ups, he’d been forced to deviate from his plans. Change was something he’d never been able to accept. Twenty-five years ago, after he’d recovered and his physical wounds had healed, he’d changed. He could no longer go with the flow. Everything had to be precise and orderly. Everything had to be in his control.
 

Junior had forced him to overcome and adapt, to improvise when things hadn’t gone as expected. These were good traits to own, and ones he would carry with him when he left Bola to begin anew. That, and the knowledge that he’d come full circle. With the death of his pledge, vengeance would be served. The demon who had tormented him would suffer a fate much worse than if he’d tortured and killed him twenty-five years ago.
 

Guilt
.
 

Yes, guilt would eat at the demon’s blackened soul. Because of that sick, twisted, immoral demon, because of what he’d done to him, the deaths of his son and the other pledges were on that bastard’s hands. The puke’s father had put Hell Week into motion twenty-five years ago, now he would finish it.

Holding the stretched twine in his hands, he approached the puke.
 

“Where’s that crazy bitch?” the boy asked, then spat.

He backhanded the puke, knocking his head against the rock wall. “She might be a crazy bitch, but you have no right calling her one. Understood?” When the boy didn’t answer he went nose to nose with him. “Understood?” he shouted.

The pledge nodded, and licked the blood trickling from his chapped lips.
 

“Good. Now to answer your question—not that it’s really any of your business—Junior is busy. Just because it’s Hell Week doesn’t mean we can walk away from our daily obligations.” He pulled the twine taut again. “Besides, I didn’t
want
her here for this session of calisthenics. Do you know why?”

The puke shook his head.

He leaned close to the boy’s ear. “Because
I’m
a crazy bastard and I’m worried I might do something to her.”

“L…like what?”

He wrapped the twine around the boy’s neck. “Like this.” Pulling the twine tight, he choked the puke. The boy’s mouth hung open, he jerked and twisted his body. His eyes grew big and watery, his face, even in the dim lighting, took on a lovely purple hue. Not ready for the boy to expire yet, he loosened the twine.

The puke suddenly drew in wheezy gasps, then began coughing. When the boy’s breathing became somewhat normal, he gave the pledge’s cheek a light slap. “Better?”

After the boy gave him a quick nod, he raised the twine, then wrapped it around his throat again. The pure shock and outrage in the puke’s eyes made him giddy and reckless. A part of him wanted to simply kill the pledge now. What he had planned for tomorrow, although necessary if he were to maintain consistency, had always been his least favorite part of Hell Week. Now that he thought about it, the demon wouldn’t know if he’d defiled his son the same way the bastard had defiled him twenty-five years ago.
 

The pledge’s eyes rolled back. He quickly loosened the twine and gave the boy another slap, this time hard enough to keep him conscious. “Sorry,” he said over the boy’s wheezing. “I shouldn’t have let my mind wander like that.” He took a step back to give the puke a moment to recover. They weren’t finished…yet.

“You’re probably wondering the significance of this test. I know I did when it was administered to me.” He cocked his head and thought back to that night. The fear had been unbearable and overwhelming, but the demon had explained the reasons behind the choking. “Trust,” he said to the pledge, repeating a revised version of what the demon had told him twenty-five years ago. “I’ve asked you several times if you trusted me, and each time you’ve said yes. Last night I betrayed that trust when I whipped you with my belt. Today I will attempt to regain it.”

Holding the twine stretched, he approached the boy. “Do you trust that I won’t kill you…today?” When the boy didn’t answer, he asked, “Would you
like
me to kill you?”

The puke met his gaze, pure hatred brightening his narrowed eyes. “No.”

He cupped his ear. “No…what?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. Do you trust me?” At this point, he knew the trust was gone, along with the hope of a climatic betrayal. While he liked the newfound ability of adaptation and improvisation, tough habits were hard to break. This had been a question he’d asked every pledge. Of course they had all lied to him and told him what he’d wanted to hear. What else would they say to a man who held their lives in his hands? “Well, Puke. Do you?”

“No.”

“No? Why is that?” he asked, eager to hear the boy’s reasoning. Never had a pledge been honest. With the boy’s honesty, a small part of his damaged heart softened and he wondered if the puke’s demon father had any idea of his son’s strength. Any father would be proud to have a son like this.
He
would have been proud to have him for a son. Unfortunately, he’d ended up with
Junior
.

“You said you knew my dad.”

“That’s right.”

“Were you friends?”

He raised the twine and wrapped it around the boy’s neck again. “No.”

The puke’s Adam’s apple bobbed, moving the loose twine. “He…ah…my dad is pretty quick with his fists. I’ve taken plenty of beatings. But I always knew he’d stop. I
trusted
that he would stop.” The boy glared at him. “You,
sir
, might stop today, but I don’t trust that you won’t kill me.”

He gripped the boy’s shoulder and smiled. “You’re tough. I truly admire your strength. Truly.” Twine in both hands now, he squeezed the puke’s neck.
 

The boy writhed and yanked against his restraints. The shock in his bulging eyes gave him no satisfaction. He hadn’t lied. He admired his puke and if they’d met under different circumstances, he could see the boy as his protégé. But fate had given him Junior instead.
 

Thinking about his idiot daughter had him tightening the twine. “You’re quite intuitive, Puke. You’re also correct. I won’t kill you today.” He leaned closer and pressed his mouth against the boy’s ear. “I’m saving that and so much more for tomorrow.”

Chapter 17

“I’m so thankful Sean’s been moved out of ICU.” Rachel dropped her head against the Lexus’s headrest as Owen pulled out of the Dixon Medical Center parking lot. Relief eased the tension in her shoulders and neck, while exhaustion made her boneless and longing for a bed. “At least one positive thing has finally happened,” she added, and glanced at Owen.

He veered the Lexus and turned down the road that would take them to the Sheriff’s Department. “It’ll be great to see him out of the hospital.” He drummed his thumbs along the steering wheel. “But I wouldn’t say it’s the
only
positive thing that’s happened.”
 

“Oh, really? Prior to visiting Sean, we spent half the day interviewing over one hundred girls. I swear, I think they scarred me. If I ever have kids, I want all boys. I can do without girl drama.”
 

“I grew up with three older sisters. Trust me. I get it.” The drumming grew more rapid. “And I still don’t think that’s the only positive thing.”

When he looked at her, the tension returned. The heat and promise in his eyes caused a deep ache between her thighs as memories of last night resurfaced. “I suppose you’re right. The tech from the Michigan State Police lab did say he thought he’d have something for us later today or tomorrow morning.”

“You’re a piece of work,” he said with a grin. “Seriously. A real piece of work.”

“Yeah, well, you’re a nice piece of ass.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Guy’s aren’t a piece of ass. Women are.”

Was that true?
“Whatever. I think you like correcting me when you have the chance…because you’re usually the one who’s wrong,” she teased, her mood lighter than it had been since she’d received Jake’s call Monday morning about Sean. “And besides, correct or not, I enjoyed…ya know.”

“No, I don’t know. Maybe you should enlighten me.”

The sexy grin he wore and their teasing banter made her want to be reckless and playful. “Well…I enjoyed the way you…um…kissed me.”

“Where?”

Oh, boy
. He’d just taken reckless and playful to another level. Unused to this sort of…dirty talk, she kept her mouth shut.
 

“Chicken,” he said with a half smile and pulled into the parking lot next to Jake’s SUV.
 

“I am not.”

“Bawk, bawk.”

She gave his arm a light punch. “Okay. Fine. I’ll tell you—”

He grabbed her hand, and pulled her close. “Where?”

“Yeah.” She gripped the front of his sweater with her other hand, and leaned closer. Possessing a sexual confidence she’d never had before, she brushed her lips against his. “I enjoyed the way you kissed my lips.” Releasing his sweater, she reached for his hand then brought it between her thighs. “I especially enjoyed the way you kissed me here. Having your tongue—”

He quickly drew back and raised both of his hands. “Okay. You win.”

“But I thought you wanted to know.”

Resting his arm on the steering wheel, he looked out the front window. When he met her gaze again, another jolt zipped straight between her thighs. The look in his eyes was filled with lust and desire, sensual promises that, after last night, she didn’t doubt he could keep. “You can tell me later, after I wine and dine you at the Bigfoot festival.”

“Bawk. Who’s the chicken now?”

He chuckled. “Better than walking into the Sheriff’s Department with…never mind.”

 
Remembering how good he’d felt inside her, rocking his hips, thrusting his thick arousal until she came, she dropped her gaze to his lap. And smiled.

“I gotta get out of this car,” he said and quickly opened the door.
 

“Don’t you want your jacket?” she called after him.

“Nope. I’m good for now.”

Once she closed the passenger door, she grabbed a handful of snow. “Would this help?”

Laughing, he sidestepped her before she could toss the snow at him. “I swear you’re going to pay for this later.”

Although unsure what her punishment might be, anticipation hummed through her body. If the punishment had the same results as last night, around Owen, she was going to have to start behaving badly…all the time.

When they reached the glass doors of the Sheriff’s Department, an air horn sounded off in the distance, followed by cheering. “And so it begins,” she said and turned toward the center of town. Although only late afternoon, the winter sun had begun to dip and the lampposts lining the sidewalks were already illuminated. A handful of two and three story buildings blocked her view of the town square, but based on the cars lining the street, along with the loud cheering, she had a feeling the Bigfoot festival had drawn a large crowd.
 

“Jake said the festival will shut down by ten tonight.” Owen held the door open for her. “Hopefully it won’t be too bad.”

“Killer on the loose, missing kid, a party for Bigfoot in full swing…yeah, shouldn’t be too bad.”

“A real piece of work,” he said and followed her inside.