Killing Ways

71

Joe Lucchesi’s face had transformed in such a powerful way, it cut short even Duke Rawlins’ laughter.

This is beyond thinking about. This is beyond all levels of depravity.

Ren and Joe locked eyes.

What are you thinking? How are you thinking?

Ren’s heart pounded.

You want to kill this man. I want to see him rot in jail.

Joe’s face was desolate, his eyes empty. A nothing-to-lose air radiated from him.

Duke Rawlins is ready to die now. He wants to die.

You want to kill him. I want to see him rot in jail.

Ren looked at Duke. His shaven head was slick with sweat.

WantED. WantED to see him rot in jail.

Now? Now I want to kill this man.

She stared at Joe.

I want to kill this man for the lifelong pain he has caused you. You were a good man. You are a good man. What justice brought Duke Rawlins into your life?

Duke Rawlins was looking around, he was smiling wide, but he couldn’t hide the fear that was sparking in his eyes. He kept smiling, though, and the smile broadened. He began laughing again, harder, louder, with depthless cruelty.

That was not fear in your eyes; it was relish. You are getting an even better reaction than you expected. You have run this moment through your head a million times. And the moment is here. This is everything to you. There was no fear. Of course there wasn’t. There was, simply, joy.

There was a palpable change in the air, a thickening, a dense, choking, smoking hell.

‘In my own way,’ said Duke, drawing out the words, ‘I guess I killed your wife. I did it. In my own way, I finished her off with all that scar tissue I left her. Guess I really am the gift that keeps on giving. The gift I always promised you I would be.’ He rolled his head to the side and spat out blood.

Ren looked up at Joe.

What are you going to do? What are you going to say?

Joe muttered something. Ren waited. He muttered again. She strained to hear.

‘Liar,’ said Joe a little louder. ‘Liar. You’re a fucking liar!’

Duke Rawlins shook his head slowly. ‘I’m not! I mean, I couldn’t have planned for the baby, that was a... happy accident! Soon as I saw Grace walking, though, I knew. She couldn’t have been more than two years old, in that park near your house. I saw it — she had the same skinny bow legs I had, got passed down by my mama. Didn’t you even wonder about her hair? I mean—’

‘You fucking liar!’ said Joe. ‘You liar.’

‘No!’ said Duke. ‘No! I caught it all on video. There’s a date on it and everything. Like the FedEx slip I took while I was there. You’ll see — that’ll about match up to nine months before Grace was born. And yes. There’s video evidence.’ He checked his watch. ‘The matinee should be starting right about now.’

Shaun Lucchesi was staring at his laptop. He had pressed play on the emailed video, but the screen was still black. He waited. He recognized the steps up to their old house in Bay Ridge. The door was green like it used to be. This looked like an old video. Was this some kind of joke from one of his friends? Was someone about to egg the house or something? He could see the camera move onto the front door of the house, then slide across to the front-room window. He could see the shadow of his mom moving about behind the gauzy curtains. His heart lurched at the sight of his mother. He missed her.

Then he was watching the side of the house, the air vent that went into the living room. He could see a hand doing something there, holding something up, letting it waft in through the vent. The camera was back on the window. Shaun could see the blurred form of his mother slump to the floor. He could hear footsteps as the person holding the camera walked up to the front door. He could hear keys jangling. Whoever was filming took the keys and shook them in front of the screen. It was a man’s hand. Shaun recognized his own key ring, remembered losing his keys and his fake ID on a night out in a bar. The man unlocked the front door. Shaun’s heart pounded as the man made his way into the living room. He crouched down beside his mother. He rolled her over onto her back. She was passed out, looked almost lifeless, there was no effort required to move her. The man started to push up her skirt. Shaun slammed the laptop shut.

Joe Lucchesi’s cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his jacket pocket.

Shaun’s name was flashing like an alarm on the screen.

Duke was staring up at the ceiling. Without even turning his head, he said, ‘That’s got to be Shaun. I’m sure he’s in a real panic right about now after what he’s just watched.’

Jesus Christ.

Joe was speechless, unmoving.

‘Joe,’ said Ren. ‘Joe.’ She reached out for his forearm.

Look at me. Please look at me. Look at me.

Duke was half-laughing, half-whining. ‘Ignoring your only biological child?’

Joe fell to his knees, grabbing Duke Rawlins by the neck.

‘No!’ said Ren, diving after him. ‘NO! Don’t do this. He fell. He fell. You were not responsible. This... you will be responsible. He’s not worth it.’ I can’t even say, think of Grace. Jesus Christ. Shaun? Everything is so wrong.

Joe had a white-knuckle grip on Duke’s neck. ‘I am going to fucking kill you! I will fucking kill you, you sick fuck. You fuck. You—’

Duke’s eyeballs were bulging, his face bright with compressed blood, the heels of his boots scrambling on the marble floor. The pool of blood under his head was spreading.

Ren tried to grab Joe’s shoulders. It was like grabbing rock. His muscles were rigid, boring every ounce of strength into choking the life from Duke Rawlins.

‘Don’t,’ said Ren. ‘He’s dying, Joe. He’s dying. Let him die. Let him die. We’ll walk out of here. We’ll let him die alone. Let’s leave him here to die. He can’t win. Don’t let him win.’

Joe stopped moving. Arms still rigid, he looked up at Ren, his eyes crazed, desperate, questioning, sweat pouring down his face, his eyes stinging with it. His look said, ‘Please tell me this is not the nightmare I believe it to be.’

There is a monster dying at your feet and living on inside your beautiful daughter. This is the nightmare you believe it to be.

There was a flash of movement outside the building. Joe pulled his bloodied hands from Duke Rawlins’ neck, and fell back onto his heels. Duke sucked in as big a breath as his failing body would allow. Ren grabbed Joe’s arm as he stood up to his full height. Side by side, they watched, dazed, as the doors burst open and the SWAT team plowed in. Ren looked down. Duke Rawlins looked delirious, his head moving again from side to side. He was drawing his final breaths, his face set into one final shit-eating grin.