Daniella “Dutch” Buchanan
Fucking hell. Thrusting my hands through my hair, I pace around the living room of the house I’m sharing with Susannah.
I fucking hate it here. Not this house, it’s fine, and Susannah is cool. No, I hate being in this goddamn motherfucking shithole. The police are clueless, trampling over the crime scene and forgetting to tag evidence. The lab techs are more worried about what bars they’re hitting up this weekend than getting the work done. And DNA analysis? I could walk back to New York quicker than they do things around here.
It’s pissing me right off, and I want to punch something. Or fuck something. I’m not quite sure which, but either one would suffice.
That hellhole of a house was swimming in DNA. And I get it, there’s no way even the city itself could have dealt with the Mount Everest pile of samples we obtained in a timely manner.
But I feel like I’m going to explode. I want, no need, to push this investigation on. Every day that I sit around waiting, as useless as an ashtray on a motorcycle, is just another day my so-called father gets away with hurting more people. I’m not a patient person, and this wait is going to kill me.
Months. That’s what they told us. This could take fuckingmonthsto sort out. Slamming a fist into the wall, I hop around, shaking it out. That was stupid, but worth it.
Fuck this shit.
“Susannah!” I call up the stairs.
“What?”
“Come on, we’re going out. We’re getting white girl wasted tonight.”
Thundering footsteps come pounding down the stairs.
“Thank fuck for that,” she replies as she blows past me.
I knew I liked her.
Chapter 20
Trey
Backing the Jeep into the driveway, I turn off the engine, sitting quietly for a few minutes to make sure no one is looking out their windows. When all remains quiet after five minutes, Rebecca and I gently close the car doors before following a path around to the back of the duplex.
Using the lockpick tools I keep in my pocket, I open the door, Rebecca hard against my back as we creep through the single-story house. My heart thumps a loud beat as I strive to remain quiet.
Loud snores come from behind a closed door, and we tiptoe in. Reaching behind me, I open my hand, and Rebecca hands me the plastic bag she’s carrying. A smile stretches across my face as I pull the chloroformed rag out, holding it tightly over his nose and mouth. Earl jumps slightly, eyes opening wide in fear before they roll up into his head. Fucker’s out like a light. This was almost too easy.
Hefting him up over my shoulder, we file back out, locking the door behind us. Rebecca goes ahead to check that the front is still clear, and I follow when she gives me the sign that it is. Dumping him unceremoniously on the back seat, we again close the doors quietly and leave the drive in neutral, so the engine doesn’t wake anyone. Once we’re a few houses down, I put it in drive, and we head back to our temporary home.
Getting him strung up when his body is a dead weight is another thing entirely. Stroking my beard, I think for a minute, then dump his body on the floor. A huff of breath leaves him, but his eyes are still closed. Good. Stripping his clothes off him, I toss them into a corner. Hauling the chains down from the ceiling, which are fixed to pulleys, I clamp them around his wrists while Rebecca leans against the wall, watching. Her eyes are gleaming with excitement, her earlier fatigue washed away with the promise of retribution.
Cranking the pulley, Earl is hauled into the air, his arms stretching above him like a puppet. His head lolls, drool dribbling from his mouth. Rebecca comes over to help, setting his feet on the platform towards the bottom of the cross. Grabbing zip ties, she spreads his legs slightly, fixing them to the U-shaped iron hooks protruding from the sides made for that purpose.
I do the same with his wrists, unclipping the chains first before binding them tightly to the arms of the cross. “Ready for some fun?” I ask her as she grins up at me, her eyes dancing with glee.
“Yes!”
I give her a wide grin of my own as I lift a bucket high. “Let’s wake the fucker up then.” Icy water slices through the air, drenching Earl as he splutters awake.
Bleary eyes open, then fly wide in fear as he takes in the room and the two of us watching him. His dick shrivels up into itself, and I boom a laugh at the pathetic-looking thing.
“Wha—” he starts, a cough taking over. “Who the fuck are you?” he addresses me.
“Me? Oh, I’m just the muscle. You should be talking to her,” I say, dipping my head towards Rebecca. “She’s in charge.”
Rebecca waggles her fingers at him, and Earl’s face goes white for a moment. “What do you want?”
Rebecca chuckles as she walks towards him. “Why, Earl. Really. Did you honestly think I’d let you go, after everything you’ve done? Did you not consider that if I was killing the others, that I wouldn’t kill you, too? After what you did to Rosalie?” She tsks, and Earl looks like he’s going to puke.
