Page 117 of Ruger's Rage
Marco grows more agitated with each step, trying to dig his heels in as Maddox and Ounce force him upward.
By the time we reach the third-floor landing, sweat beads his forehead, eyes darting wildly between us. "Whatever you're planning, stop and think," he pleads. "I'm a businessman. We can make a deal."
"A businessman," I repeat, the word tasting foul. "Is that what you call yourself?"
"I have money, connections?—"
"I'm not interested in your money or your connections." I move closer, invading his space. "I'm interested in justice."
Fear widens his eyes. "Justice for what?"
"For Tildie. For the baby she never got to hold."
All color drains from his face. "That was an accident. I never meant?—"
"Bullshit." My voice echoes in the stairwell. "You pushed her down a flight of stairs when she was five months pregnant. You killed your own child because she dared to consider leaving you."
"She was being unreasonable," he argues desperately. "I just wanted to scare her, to make her understand?—"
My fist connects with his face before I even realize I've moved.
Blood spatters from his nose as his head snaps back.
"Understand what?" I demand, grabbing his shirt. "That you owned her? That she had no right to her own life?"
He spits blood, glaring at me. "You don't know anything about us. About what we had."
"I know everything I need to." I release him with a shove. "I know you controlled her, isolated her, made her believe she was nothing without you."
"I loved her!"
"No," I say quietly. "Youpossessedher. There's a fuckin’ difference."
I move him toward the edge of the stairwell, the long flight of concrete steps stretching down into shadowy depths below us.
Understanding dawns in his eyes. "You're going to kill me."
"Yes, I am."
"She'll never forgive you," he tries, desperation making his voice crack. "Elizabeth has a soft heart. She'll hate you for this."
A cold smile crosses my face. "Tildie's stronger than you ever gave her credit for. And if she hates me for killing you, well, that’s a gamble I’m willing to take."
"Please," he begs, all pretense gone now. "I'll disappear. Go overseas. Never contact her again."
"Like you promised last time?" Bloodhound interjects. "When you tracked her across state lines?"
Marco's shoulders slump. "What do you want from me?"
"Nothing," I tell him honestly. "Not a damn thing. This isn't a negotiation."
I nod to Maddox, who cuts the zip ties binding Marco's wrists. Marco immediately rubs his raw skin, confusion crossing his features.
"You're letting me go?"
"Not exactly."
I turn him to face the stairwell, my hand firm on his shoulder.
