Page 55 of Seven Graves

“Complete…” I whispered, utterly dumbfounded and reeling. I didn’t realize I was staring at the fucking ground before her bare feet came into view and her bloody hands touched my face.

“Finish it, Malek.”

Her warm breath skated across my lips and her eyes held me fucking prisoner.

I grabbed her throat, forcefully kissing her, and I was almost shocked that she let me, kissing me back with the same ravenous sting…

until she pushed me away and backed herself back up to my car.

I stood there breathless, glancing at Bridget, who looked ready to beat me to death.

Understandably so. She’s probably at all-out war with the idea of ending our father. I’m not. I pointed at Declan.

“No matter what happens, stay here. Don’t let them outta your sight. If anything happens to either one of them, you’re a dead man.”

“I’ve got ‘em, brother. See you on the other side.”

I nodded once, and strode into the trees, not looking back.

The laces in my boots are untied again. I really did try this time, but it seems fitting that I’m about to unnerve my father with one of the biggest qualms he has with me on a pretty regular basis.

I like it. It also helps that the blood of every traitorous piece of shit in this house has put a shine on these boots that I’ve spent a long time earning.

All because of what my Daddy taught me…

It was complete silence as I passed every murderer I brought to this execution, some of them watching and waiting, some still finding shit to stuff in their pockets before the place goes up in flames.

I approached the door at the end of the hall, the buckles on my shoes clinking as I walked.

Miguel waited with his arms crossed at the doorway, smirking as he stepped aside.

There the kings sat, side by side, tied to chairs and waiting for the reaper.

Pop looked at me, and I immediately knew what Bridget and Declan saw that was off.

It’s something that I think I noticed in the diner.

Maybe even before it, the last time I was in his office.

Something’s been dying in him long before all this. I just don’t know what.

I had a whole script prepared in my fucked-up mind for Nolan O’Dell.

It’s not that it went blank as soon as I looked at the bastard…

I just don’t give a fuck anymore. I never asked for any of this.

And every word that just came out of Seven’s mouth just hit home for me.

This did happen for a reason. She happened for a reason.

Tonight…will be the last time I kill a man for any reason other than protection.

This completes the closure I needed to let go of a ghost. It completes the vicious circle of my empty life, whether Seven stays for it or not.

It ends a chapter and starts a new one that I’m determined will be brighter than what I’ve always known. This is it for me.

Seven graves.

I’m not giving Nolan O’Dell the satisfaction of last words, or a piece of my rattled mind.

Not one ounce of him is deserving of it.

I looked him in the face, holding my hand out towards Miguel, and he already seemed to know what I wanted.

His bloody machete appeared in my hand. I didn’t take my eyes off Nolan.

I walked with purpose, not giving a single shit what was about to come out of his open mouth before I swung my arm and robbed him of his last rites.

His head flew, thudding to the floor as it rolled, disappearing under a nearby curtain.

My father didn’t flinch. I turned towards him and slipped the blade beneath the rope tying him to the chair, snapping it.

“Everybody out,” I said, heavily.

I don’t actually know how many people had come in behind me, likely just to spectate after an adventure like tonight, but…

there wouldn’t be any extra ears in here for this.

I heard several sets of footsteps leaving as I dropped the machete to the floor and my father stood, buttoning his nice jacket and squaring off with me.

“How do I look?”

“If any of this is true? You look like anybody that’s ever fucking meant anything to me, Pop. Rotten, lost, and dead .” I slipped both hands into my pockets, finding Seven’s penny and rubbing it between my thumb and forefinger while we stared into each other.

“So…the cleanin’ lady. That’s where ‘ye found peace.”

“Is that why you tried to help the same people take her from me? Tried to run me through with Bridget for good measure?”

He smiled softly, and damn if it didn’t look sad…and a bit genuine. I kept my reserve. “Did it work?”

“I dunno what the fuck that means, Pop. Don’t waste your last breaths on riddles. Tell me fuckin’ why .”

He dropped his eyes to the floor, lowering his head while he turned and walked to the large window overseeing the estate.

“I knew a long time ago that takin’ over this seat would be somethin’ you couldn’t handle.

Not because ‘ye didn’t have the nerve, Malek…

but because ‘ye didn’t want it.” He pocketed his own hands and stared down at the fancy hedges.

“Our house was fallin’. When a kingdom falls…

people notice. And not just enemies. The allies start worryin’ about what piece of the pie they’ll be left with.

So, I played the board. Found the pawn that I knew would fall easy…

and I used the knight that was gonna fall hardest.”

The knight…that’s tattooed on my hand.

“‘Yer mother was such a braugh lass. So spirited and perfect. I loved her the second I saw her. You wouldn’t have made a good leader for this life, not because you were incapable.” He turned and faced me.

“‘Yer more like her than me. And ‘yer sister is the opposite. I knew you’d act out. I knew you’d protect her. I knew if I threatened to send you to Belfast, you’d kick your heels like a mule.

I knew sendin’ Bridget into the lion’s den would poke the snake…

and if I found what turned ‘yer head these past weeks…it’d light the fuse that would set you off.

You’re not a king, Malek. You’re an executioner .

And you do it well. Knockin’ the first domino always ends with the collapse of the entire game.

They didn’t know it then…and they doubted us. But we were always winnin’, son.”

My body went stiff. I felt that familiar high starting to settle in.

I tightened my fists in my pockets. “You set us up. You set us all up. You used me? You used what happened with Shavonn, the war with the houses, and anything I had left to make me happy, to drive me to bring it all down?!” I started trembling, and fuck, I probably look like a pathetic asshole right now.

“This was the plan?! To crush it all? Including our own house?”

“Wasn’t it yours? ”

…It was…but I at least have a reason…

“Why, Pop?” I took a step towards him, every part of me screaming with restraint. I wanna kill him. I want to beat him until there’s nothing left to recognize. “Answer me, you fucking coward.”

“They found it six months ago.”

“Found what .”

“They think it may have started in the liver. Could have been the lungs, but it’s spread too far to nail it down. I’ve already lived three months past what they gave me.”

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

“Liar. You’re lying.”

“It was gonna come to this either way, Malek. I’d either put a gun in my mouth, or I’d make sure this house crumbled…

and the two of you got out from under it by the time it did.

It might be what I deserve, but I’m not goin’ out that way.

It’ll be blood…or it’ll be nothin’.” He closed the space between us and gripped my shoulders.

“Get outta here. Take Bridget with you. I heard enough to know you rigged the place.

Go. Blow it. And get the fuck outta this town.

Go make the life I shoulda given you both.

The one ‘yer Ma woulda wanted. The one you all deserved.”

“…Dad…”

He pulled a gun from his pocket and put it to his temple.

“Get outta here, Malek.”

My heart was pumping faster than I could catch my breath.

I never saw Shavonn swinging from a rope, but the thought has plagued me for nearly a decade.

To be so done with life and so determined to die before being forced into a life she didn’t want , that she took the matters into her own hands.

Nobody should ever feel that low. He can’t go out this way.

I can’t walk through the freedom of the rest of my life knowing he took the easy way out.

There’s no saving him, but I can give him more dignity than this.

“I’ll do it. Kings don’t fall this way, Pop.

” His finger tightened on the trigger, and I pulled my switchblade from my left pocket.

“Lemme do this for you. Or you never actually win the game.” His lip wobbled and he slowly let go of the trigger, lowering the gun until it dropped from his hand.

I fixed the tip of my blade to his heart and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

My eyes stung and a single tear fell from his own while he clapped me on the back and pressed his head to mine.

“I never told you this. Not once. But I love you both. Live, Malek .”

He forcefully pulled me into a crushing embrace, my blade plunging into him, and his face blurred through my fucking tears as he grunted in pain.

I held onto him, feeling his weight go heavier and slowly lowered him to the floor.

By the time I laid him flat…his eyes stared forward.

I knelt there for what seemed like forever, until I felt like my legs could support me again.

And when I finally turned away, my breath caught in my throat.

A chessboard.

A very expensive one.

On a marble table near the door.

My heart felt heavy, but I inched towards it, looking over all the pieces. The pawns…like Declan. Some of the strongest pieces on the board. The knight. Like me…like Finley …that are highly overrated and easier played. The queen. The piece that overshadows all others, but often misunderstood…

And the king…

I swallowed, my tattooed hand hovering over the piece…

…and I knocked it over.

No one said a word as we stepped over bodies, trudged through blood, and kicked rubble across the floor absentmindedly.

I silently let the tears fall, deciding I don’t give a fuck if it makes me look like less of a man.

I’m a man that just became an orphan while also becoming free.

All the chains holding me back are broken…

as is the heart that was already pitch black and dead.

We walked out of the front entrance to the O’Dell compound, and I trained my eyes forward, trying not to think of my father lying next to the enemy in that room.

Three figures came into view in the dark as we inched towards a safe distance away.

They’re waiting. And one of them might be trying to hide it—but she looks awfully glad to see that I’m alive.

She hasn’t changed her bloody clothes…

Bridget lurched forward, eyes blown out and puffy, and gripped the front of my shirt in her fists. “Daddy?” Seven slowly approached behind her on bare feet.

“Went out the way he wanted…” I choked out. Her mouth hung open and her lip wobbled, and I could see every angry curse and every unending question in her devastated expression. “Got my last order.”

Leach handed me a small black remote with a single red button, and I looked over Bridget’s shoulder at Sev. Declan steeled himself, pulling Bridget against him while she broke down and I closed the gap between us, holding out the device.

“Malek…I—”

“Clean her up, Nathair Bheag…”

Her arms tightened around herself and the wind blew her knotted gray hair over her shoulders and off her face. She really does look fucking gorgeous in death. Simon waddled closer and she glanced down at him warily.

“Last job. Boom .”

We locked eyes again, and after a long silent stretch…

I saw that confidence spark back to life.

Her filthy hand covered mine, and she took the remote as we all turned around to look at the house.

A quick beep set it off, and the ground shook as the bitch exploded, starting in small blasts that surrounded the gates, and ending with three massive ones that sent the entire building into the sky.

Our deal is settled.