Page 35 of Wicked Riddles & Bitter Heartbeats (Till Death Do Us Part #1)

Chapter Thirty-Two

Atticus

I stand in the shadows beside the door, the rope wrapped tightly in my hands, ready to be around this guy’s throat. Lilah is scared, and I hate it. But it’ll be worth it once he’s dead. She will no longer have to fear this man because he will no longer be breathing.

The wind whistles through the open windows, but beneath that I make out the sound of booted footsteps on the dirty cement.

They get louder as they get closer, until they stop altogether.

I strain to listen, but I’m met with silence.

My heart beats hard but steadily. I count the beats as I wait for them to speak.

Five. Six. Seven.

“Lilah,” he finally says.

“Uncle Frank.” Her voice is stronger than I expected it to be. Much stronger than she feels.

“How did you know about this location?” he asks.

“I f-found it on a map.”

Ah, there it is. I hate hearing her sound unsure, and it nearly sends me into a blind rage. My hands grip the rope tighter. I’m getting antsy, and the darkness within me is swirling like a storm, ready to be set free.

“Don’t you think it was stupid to choose such a secluded place? If he sees your location—”

“I left my phone at the gas station down the street.”

He makes a sound of approval. “So, you’re smarter than I thought.”

There are more footsteps. Both sets. It’s not easy to keep my feet from moving, knowing he’s walking toward her, and she doesn’t want him to.

“No, that’s too close,” she says, the footsteps getting closer to me. “No!” she shouts, and I grit my teeth, ready to jump. I will not put her in harm’s way, but if we don’t play this right, it could go very wrong.

She runs through the door, right past me, and the second I see the flash of someone coming after her, I lunge.

The rope goes around his neck, and I pull as I whirl behind him.

He grunts, body jerking back like I just clotheslined him, hands going to the rope to pull it off.

I hold tighter, his back slamming against my chest. He’s putting up a good fight, and I don’t want to kill him like this.

I could crush his throat, but he deserves more.

“Lilah!” I shout when I see her just standing there, staring. She has a job to do. “Lilah, move!”

She shakes out of it, hurries to the bag to dig through it.

It’s taking all of my strength to hold Frank still. He’s a big guy. My height and maybe my weight too. There are only seconds left before he snaps out of his shock and his training kicks in. If Lilah doesn’t hurry up, this will go south.

Lilah finds what she needs, which we purposely left in the side pocket, and hurries over. She doesn’t hesitate to shove the needle into his neck. His body relaxes after a few seconds, and he slumps to the ground.

Lilah and I are both panting. Before I deal with this asshole, I go to her.

“You are okay,” I tell her firmly. Her eyes are still on her uncle, who’s lying on the ground. “Lilah.” I say her name sternly, but her gaze stays on him. I reach for her, brushing my knuckles along her cheek. She jerks back, eyes frantic. I don’t move, letting her come back to reality.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, wrapping her arms around me.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m going to take care of him.”

I hold her while she catches her breath, and when she pulls back, I give her a kiss and tell her how well she did.

It takes a lot of time and maneuvering, but we manage to get him into the chair. He’s handcuffed and chained to it. We can’t risk him getting out.

“Hopefully it’ll hold up,” I comment.

“You paid enough money for it.”

I nod, staring at him slumped over in the chair. It was expensive, but it was sturdy and so I thought it would do the job. Seems good so far, but he hasn’t woken up and started trying to get out yet.

“I’m sorry,” Lilah whispers.

I shake my head, turning to face her and holding out my arms. She walks to me, resting her face against my chest.

“No need, Kitten. You did perfectly.” I kiss the top of her head.

“I… hesitated. You could have gotten hurt.”

“I’m fine, and so are you. This is all going to work out.”

I turn us to face the window. My brother should be here any minute.

I’m not sure what makes him come alone. He very well could have brought the entire squad, and it’s possible there is some kind of plan in place to catch me. It just doesn’t feel right. That isn’t how this plays out. That isn’t how this ends.

He makes his way up the stairs faster than Frank did, and when he spots me, he stops.

Along with the address and time of when he should be here, I sent some directions. One of them was to make sure he had his gun on him. I need it for the plan. Though it’s likely he would have had it anyway, I had to be sure.

His hand is on the handle, ready to pull it out.

“No need,” I say casually. “I just want to talk.”

“Who are you?” he asks in a nicer tone than when he nearly ran me down.

Interesting.

“Before we talk about me, let’s talk about you.”

“That’s not how this is going to work.”

“Actually, James, it is. I’m the one in control here.”

Though, I’m not sure for how long. My skin is crawling and my head is getting fuzzy. It’s a good thing it’s dark because if I were face to face with him in the light, able to see how much we look alike, I may actually lose it.

“Fine. What do you want to know?”

“Tell me about your family.”

“My family?” he snaps, sounding confused. “Don’t have one.”

“That’s a lie,” I growl as I step forward, the anger swelling in my chest. I stop abruptly, my eyes snapping shut as I try to focus and keep calm.

“No, it’s not.” His tone his calm, and so I open my eyes. “My mother died some years ago. I never met my father. Never married. No kids.”

“No… siblings?” I ask, cocking my head to the side.

“Not that I know of.”

Not that he knows of?

“What does that mean?” I ask through gritted teeth. I’m barely hanging on. He’s lying right to my goddamn face.

But… what if he’s not lying? What if he really didn’t know?

I told myself that wouldn’t matter, but suddenly, it seems to matter.

“It means my father fucked anything that walked—hell, people that didn’t walk too—so maybe there’s someone out there who shares my DNA, but if so, I don’t know about them. Now, are you going to tell me who the fuck you are?”

The comment about his father, our father, catches my attention. I’ve never known anything about him. Not that I know much about my mother, but there are a few things I’ve learned over the years. My father is a fucking mystery. But that isn’t what I need to focus on right now.

I step into the moonlight, getting closer to him. His eyes narrow for a long moment, then widen.

“I know you,” he whispers.

“Do you?” I ask.

“From the hotel. You ran into me.”

“It could be said that you ran into me.”

It’s a childish thing to say, and I’m not sure why that’s my response. This is a stupid argument.

“Does it matter?”

I huff out a laugh. “No.” I take a step closer to him, and he doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t do anything to act like it scares him. “What does matter is our DNA.”

“Our DNA?” he says through a chuckle. “What the fuck does that mean?”

I grin, holding his gaze for a long moment before saying, “You know, I was sure looking you in the eye, I’d know the truth.”

“The truth about what?” He frowns.

I’m not sure how much longer I can get away with being so cryptic. He’s going to want answers, and I’m dancing around them.

“About me,” I say.

He scoffs. “I don’t know what the fuck that’s supposed to mean.”

“I wish I could believe that.” I shake my head. “How long did it take you to notice that they were for you?”

He stares at me for a long moment, then blows out a sharp breath. “Longer than I’d like to admit.”

“The final kill or the call?”

Nodding, he says, “The call.”

“Pathetic.”

“I don’t work crime scenes.”

“Good thing.”

“Look, I don’t know why you want me here.

I don’t know why you’re targeting me. I’m a nobody.

I’ve been denied promotions four different times.

I’ve been told I’m not going anywhere. I can’t get you anything, buddy.

So, if that’s what you want, you should have gone after someone else. I cannot help you.”

For the first time, I believe him. I think he really didn’t know about me. If he had, by now, surely he’d recognize me, right? We look enough alike that his brain would question it. Or maybe it has, and he has a really good poker face.

It’s time to break that.

“Tell me, James. Would your life have been better had you known you had a twin?”

His brow furrows and he stares at me with a funny look. His gaze goes all over my face, but nothing gives away that he’s realized it yet. His mouth opens as if he’s going to say something but then it snaps shut. It feels like forever before his eyes widen just enough that I notice it.

“No,” he breathes out. “You… No . You can’t be.”

“Oh, I am,” I growl, slapping my hand to my chest and leaning closer to him. “Surprise, brother .”

“No,” he snaps. “That’s impossible! I’d have known.”

“Apparently not.” I throw my arms out, then let them drop to my side.

“Because here I am. Twenty-seven years old. Just like you. Birthday November 1st. Just like you. Born in Des Moines, Iowa. Just. Like. You.” I clench my teeth together, holding his bewildered stare.

Then I add, “Tell me, brother, how did you make it to Boston?”

He ignores my question, and instead says, “How did you find out about me?”

“I was lucky enough to have been adopted by a rich family who left me a shit ton of money when they died. Money gets you things these days, and I came across a fantastic private investigator. See, I was curious about my life and where I came from. Why I was given up at all. Imagine my surprise when I found out that I had a twin who got to stay.” My tone darkens at the end unintentionally.

“I didn’t know—”

“You should have!” I shout, my voice echoing around us.

My hands clench into fists, and I close my eyes for a moment to breathe. I can’t lose control now. I need more answers, and I’m so close to getting them. When I open my eyes, he’s frowning again. In fact, he looks almost offended.

“If you think you got the short end of the stick, think again, pal. Life was hell,” he growls, stepping toward me.

Pointing a finger in my face, he shouts, “Most of my life, we lived on the streets. We had no money, no home, no fucking food. So, what? You want to cry that you were given up? At least you had a good life.”

“A good life?” I laugh, gesturing around. “Look at where I am. Look at what I’ve done!” I tap the side of my head. “I’m fucked in the head.”

“Which wasn’t caused by being given up for adoption,” he seethes. “That doesn’t make someone a serial killer. It doesn’t make them do what you’ve done.”

“Then what does!” I bellow.

The truth comes out. This is what I need to know. What I’ve needed to know this entire time.

Why am I like this?

I need answers. I am ready for answers and he is the last person who can give them to me. He is the only one who shares my DNA. He is my only chance.

“I don’t know,” he says with a shake of his head. “I—”

“Fucking useless,” I scoff, taking a step back and shaking my head.

“I don’t know because I’ve been asking myself the same question.”

Those words take a second to settle into my brain, but when they do, I stumble back. The air is knocked out of my lungs, but I manage to choke out, “What?”

He walks to me until we’re eye to eye, inches away “I’m like you, brother.”

“Like me…”

“I… hurt people.”

“No,” I breathe out. “No, you can’t.”

“I do,” he says firmly. And there is something in the way he says it that has me believing him. “It’s something I’ve been dealing with my entire life.”

“You’re a cop,” I growl.

“Why do you think I’m a cop?” he shouts. “It allows me freedoms I couldn’t otherwise get. I get away with shit. I… take advantage of what I’m allowed to do.”

“Prove it,” I grit out, moving until we’re nose to nose.

He blinks a few times, his eyes dark. “How? You want to kill someone together? Let’s go.”

The look in his eye tells me he’s serious, but he’s a cop. He’s good at pretending. He’s good at making people trust him and getting them to talk. Maybe he’s wearing a camera or a wire. Maybe he’s just doing this to get my confession or whatever evidence he can.

I take a slow breath, holding his gaze.

“No need,” I say calmly. “There’s already someone here.”

His eyes widen and he glances toward the open door just as a strong gust of wind blows.

“Take me to them.”