Broken World | Novel | Angus

by Mary, Kate L.

  Angus forced out a grunt he hoped passed for agreement.

  The bald dude laughed harder. “Get yourself a drink, watch the show,” he’d jerked his head toward the stage, “and relax.”

  Angus could only nod.

  The bald asshole had slapped him on the back for the third time, and Angus tightened his fists until his bones felt on the verge of breaking. The asshole was still laughing when he walked off, and Angus watched as he’d called out greetings to a few men he passed. He’d patted others on the back just like he had with Angus, and even stopped to shake one guy’s hand. He acted like a politician on election night.

  Angus had shaken his head and turned his back to the guy, then gone to the bar.

  It was strange going behind it instead of placing an order, but they’d been told that was the way things went, so he’d done it anyway. He sorted through bottles, not recognizing half the stuff, before settling on whiskey and grabbing a glass. He’d taken the whole bottle back to a table and hadn’t skimped when he filled it. His nerves were shot, and if he didn’t figure out a way to calm down, he was liable to explode.

  Angus had sniffed the stuff before taking a sip, surprised by how much smoother it was than the shit he used to drink. He’d seen the stuff in the liquor store, but it had been about five times more than he could afford to throw away on booze, so he’d never tried it. He’d been missing out.

  He’d thrown the first glass back quickly, then refilled it, but took his time with the second one. He glanced around as he sipped it, taking in his surroundings. He’d been sitting at a small table by himself, but he was the only one on his own. Everyone else in the room was busy socializing, either playing cards, drinking, or chatting as they watched the two women dance. It was bizarre how festive the mood was.

  Angus had never considered himself a moral person. He’d rob, cheat, or lie if it helped him get out of a sticky situation or got him what he wanted. He’d stolen from nearly every job he’d worked at, and back in his twenties, he’d even gotten fired from one job—on a farm—when he got caught screwing the boss’s wife, something he hadn’t lost a moment of sleep over. Hell, he and Axl had even stolen a car and held up a few convenience stores when all the virus shit started. They’d needed supplies so they could get the hell out of Tennessee, and since they were flat broke and the world was going to hell, it had seemed like the perfect solution. What was happening in the Monte Carlo, however, was unthinkable to Angus. Using people. Taking advantage of someone weaker. It was a coward move, and it made his blood boil. He’d been tossed aside too much in his life, first by his dad, then his mom. Then his fucking dad again.

  He was shaking when he lifted his glass to his lips, and he hadn’t even had a chance to take a drink when a guy slid into the seat at his side.

  “You mind?” he’d said in a slight Hispanic accent.

  Angus had minded.

  Before he could respond, though, the guy had looked at him and smiled, waving to the stage. “It was my idea. Good, no? I figured some of the girls would be willing to do a little extra if they got to spend time out of the room. The boss was impressed.”

  The guy had looked impressed with himself.

  He was young, in his twenties, and small. Average-looking and forgettable. Yet there had been something in his brown eyes that made Angus immediately dislike him.

  “You just get here?” the guy had asked.

  He’d had his own glass, and he hadn’t hesitated to pick up the bottle sitting in front of Angus and pour an inch of liquid for himself. If Angus hadn’t disliked him before, he would have loathed him after that.

  Angus swiped the bottle up and added more to his own glass. “Just got here yesterday.”

  “You have a chance to sample the merchandise yet?” the guy asked, his eyes flashing with unconcealed excitement.

  Angus had ground his teeth, taken a breath, swallowed down some whiskey, and forced himself to reply in an even voice. “Was with Hadley Lucas last night.”

  The guy had seemed genuinely impressed. “Big man, already. Nice.” He clinked his glass against Angus’s. “I was with the group that brought her in. She and the blonde,” He made a sizzling sound and shook his hand. “Hot piece of ass. You know what I’m saying?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Angus had somehow managed to get out.

  Under the table, the hand not gripping his glass had been clenched into a fist.

  The guy’s smile widened, and he held his hand out. “I’m Carlos.”

  “Angus,” he’d replied, taking the guy’s hand with the one that had been gripping his glass. It was nearly impossible not to crush his bones.

  “Nice meeting you.” Once he’d released Angus’s hand, Carlos turned to face the stage, grinning widely. After only a second, though, he looked back at Angus and stood. “Anyway, I was just passing through and wanted to introduce myself. I got things to do, though. You know? Need to keep the boss happy so he can keep me happy.” He’d elbowed Angus like they were old friends. “See you around?”

  “Yeah.” It was the only thing Angus could get out.

  Carlos started to walk away, but almost as an afterthought said, “We’ll compare notes after I get a night with Hadley Lucas.”

  He’d winked then headed off without waiting for a response, chuckling quietly to himself.

  Angus had silently seethed as he watched the man walk away.

  Carlos had crossed the casino, but to Angus’s surprise, he didn’t go out the main door. Instead, he continued across the room, eventually pausing to look around before ducking through an employee entrance and disappearing from sight.

  Without considering why he was doing it or what was going to happen when he caught up with the guy, Angus had thrown the rest of his whiskey back and gotten to his feet so he could head after the asshole, leaving both his glass and the bottle on the table.

  Like Carlos, he took a moment to look around when he reached the door, and once he was certain the men in the bar were too busy having fun to notice his actions, Angus had slipped through the door, letting it shut behind him. A long corridor had stretched out in front of him, barely illuminated by the dim bulbs that must have been emergency lighting. The hall was lined with doors—all of them open—and it was totally quiet and empty feeling. Still, Angus kept his eyes and ears open as he started walking, peering into each room he passed. They were all empty and seemed to be offices of some sort, and it looked as if most of them had been recently ransacked. Drawers hung open and papers were strewn about, and a few desk chairs were even lying on the ground.

  Angus walked farther, pausing when he’d reached another hall so he could peer around the corner, looking first right and then left, trying to decide which way to go. He wasn’t exactly sure why he was there, but the anger burning inside him hadn’t allowed him to turn back. He wanted to find the little prick who’d helped drag Hadley and Vivian to the casino. Wanted to watch him suffer. Wanted to be the one to make him suffer.

  The hall was quiet and seemed empty at first, but when he glanced to the right a second time, he’d caught sight of a plume of smoke billowing from a nearby open doorway. Angus headed that way, moving slowly so he didn’t alert anyone to his presence. There was no talking, but what sounded like shuffling of papers had floated from the room with the smoke, telling him someone was definitely inside.

  He’d paused when he reached the door and peered inside. Carlos was digging through the desk, his back to the door and a cigarette between his lips as Angus moved into the room, his knife already drawn. He hadn’t even realized he’d pulled it.

  Angus eased the door shut until it was open only a crack, then he’d taken a step closer to Carlos. “Turn around, asshole.”

  The other man startled and spun around in alarm, his hand reaching for the gun tucked in his waistband. When his gaze landed on Angus, though, he’d relaxed and dropped his hands. The moron.

  “You scared the shit out of me, man.” Carlos pulled the cigarette from his mouth and put it
out on the desk, his gaze moving over Angus curiously. “You need something?”

  Instead of responding, Angus had made his move, slamming into Carlos and forcing the guy’s back against the wall. The other man’s eyes widened when Angus raised his knife and pressed the blade against his neck.

  “What the hell, man?” Carlos shook his head. “What are you doing?”

  Angus didn’t have an answer to that question because he still hadn’t acknowledged what he’d gone there to do.

  “That girl,” he said instead, his voice low and menacing, “Hadley Lucas. She’s my friend.”

  Carlos didn’t seem to be able to comprehend what Angus meant. “You’re the one who screwed her. I only brought her here.”

  “I didn’t screw her.” Angus pressed the blade harder against Carlos’s neck, and a drop of blood bloomed where the point had broken the skin, drawing a hiss of pain from the other man. “I came to get her. To save them.”

  Carlos was panting now, and blood was trickling down his neck and soaking into the collar of his white t-shirt. His gaze had moved past Angus like he was hoping someone would swoop in and rescue him, but there was no one around. No one to stop Angus from gutting the asshole like the pig he was.

  “Please,” Carlos had said when he was once again looking at Angus.

  “I bet they said the same thing,” he’d replied. “Bet they all do, don’t they? Bet they cried and begged, and I bet you didn’t give a shit. Tell me I’m wrong.”

  Carlos swallowed, and the blade had dug into his neck a little more. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry don’t fix what’s already been done.”

  Until that moment, Angus hadn’t known if he could go through with it. He’d always been hard and mean, but he’d never thought he was a cold-blooded killer. Thinking about Hadley, though, about how broken and scared she’d been the night before, had made up his mind for him. Monsters like this didn’t deserve to live.

  “This is for Hadley,” he’d said, then he drew the blade across the guy’s throat and stepped back.

  Angus watched as Carlos’s eyes widened in fear and shock. He fell to his knees as blood poured from the cut Angus had made. There was so much it looked like a faucet had been turned on, not even slowing when Carlos lifted his hands to his neck, covering the wound. His shirt was saturated in no time—the floor in front of him, too—and in seconds he was on the floor, still holding his neck as if trying to staunch the flow.

  He went still, his hands limp at his sides, his brown eyes wide and lifeless, his skin several shades paler. Still, Angus hadn’t looked away. He’d expected to feel a little guilt for taking a life, but as he stared down at the asshole who’d dragged Vivian and Hadley to the Monte Carlo, all Angus could feel was satisfaction.

  He wiped the blade of his knife on the guy’s shirt before finally turning his back on the body.

  Angus didn’t bump into a single person on his way back out to the casino, and no one seemed to notice him as he returned to the table he’d vacated only five minutes earlier. Acting as if nothing had happened, he slid back into his seat, filled his glass once again and sat back. He’d been amazed by how much better he felt.

  Less than ten minutes later, as Angus was nursing his fourth glass of whiskey, Axl appeared in the doorway of the casino. His brother had paused for only a moment, his gray eyes scanning the room, and when he caught sight of Angus, Axl had charged over. Jon was behind him, appearing as concerned as Axl looked pissed, but Angus couldn’t make himself care.

  “Where the hell you been?” his brother asked when he’d stopped in front of Angus.

  “Here.” He waved his glass in the air, and some of the brown liquid had sloshed over the rim, landing landed on the table. “Grab a glass and sit down.”

  Axl was seething when he leaned toward his brother. “You think this is a joke? I been lookin’ all over for you.”

  “We got plenty of time.” Angus kicked the chair across from him, and it had scooted out, forcing Jon to jump back so it didn’t slam into him. “Sit down before you make a scene.”

  “He’s right. We’ve got hours to kill, and it doesn’t hurt to blend in,” Jon had said, his gaze moving to the bar. “I’ll get a couple glasses.”

  Axl was still glaring at his brother when Jon walked away.

  “Don’t look so pissy,” Angus had said. “We’re all gonna be okay. I promise.”

  “You can’t promise shit, and you know it.”

  “I can promise that I’m gonna do whatever it takes to get us out of this.” He’d already proven that.

  Axl had shaken his head in disgust, and the expression had only intensified when he glanced toward the stage. The two girls were still dancing, now totally nude, and the men watching were busy throwing lewd comments at them instead of tips. When Axl looked back at his brother, Angus could see the accusations in his eyes. Could see the revulsion.

  “You come down here to watch this?”

  Angus tensed, his glass poised in front of his lips. “What’s it to you if I did?”

  He didn’t even know why he’d said it, or why he hadn’t told Axl the truth. He just knew the look of repulsion in his brother’s eyes had brought all his defenses, all his bitterness, to the surface. She used to look at him like that. Their mother. Like he was garbage she couldn’t wait to throw out.

  Axl must have been too angry to talk, because he’d said nothing, and they were still glaring at each other when Jon came back with two glasses. He put them on the table and took a seat, then grabbed the bottle. The air was still crackling when he poured an inch of liquid into each glass.

  He pushed one toward Axl. “Sit down and drink. You look like you’re planning to start a war, and it isn’t exactly blending in.”

  Axl obediently took a seat, but he’d pushed the glass away. “Don’t drink.”

  “Well,” Jon had pushed it back, “pretend.”

  Axl ground his teeth but wrapped his hand around the glass anyway.

  The accusations in his eyes hadn’t faded, so Angus looked away and gulped down more of the whiskey. Warmth had begun to spread through him, and combined with the knowledge that he’d gotten some revenge for Hadley, he was relaxed. Calm. Certain everything was going to work out just fine.

  Angus hadn’t even realized he was staring at the women until Axl hissed, “I find out you touched Hadley last night and I’m gonna beat the shit out of you.”

  Angus’s gaze snapped to his brother, and he tightened his grip on the glass. He had the urge to throw it at Axl, but at the expression on his face, the look of utter desperation, his anger had melted away and he relaxed.

  “Didn’t lay a finger on her,” he said.

  Axl held his gaze for a few seconds longer before looking away, shaking his head in obvious disgust. It was clear Axl didn’t believe him, and a voice in Angus’s head told him to tell his brother the truth. To let him know how utterly disgusted he was by the things going on in the Monte Carlo, and how much he’d wanted to kill the men who’d dragged Hadley away that morning. How he had killed another man.

  For whatever reason, though, Angus hadn’t been able to say the words, and he’d gone back to drinking instead, letting the silence hang over them like a dark cloud.

  Even all these years later, Angus couldn’t make himself feel sorry for what he’d done. He had a lot of regrets about his life, but killing that asshole in the Monte Carlo and leaving his body to rot wasn’t one of them. No, he hadn’t killed the man in self-defense, but that didn’t mean what he’d done was wrong. If Angus hadn’t killed the guy, he might have raped more women, might have brought more in to be raped, might have tortured or abused other people down the road. Some people didn’t deserve to live, and even if it meant Angus went to hell for playing executioner, he would never regret his actions.

  “Just ’cause the guy wasn’t threatenin’ me,” he said to Naya, who hadn’t uttered a word since asking the question, “don’t mean he wasn’t bad. He was the worst kind of pe
rson.”

  Something shuffled in the darkness. “I believe you.”

  Angus nodded even though she couldn’t see him, then rolled onto his side. “Should get some shuteye.”

  Again, the rustle of Naya moving broke through the silence. “Goodnight, Angus.”

  “Night,” he said, then he closed his eyes and allowed himself to be pulled into unconsciousness.

  Chapter Nineteen

  It was going to be another short day, Angus could tell.

  They’d left the house only an hour earlier, but already Naya was limping. She didn’t complain—which was to her credit—but since they had no clue where they were going or how long it would take to get there, there was no point in pushing themselves, and Angus made up his mind to stop as soon as they found a semi-comfortable place. Hopefully, they would before long.

  Fall was moving in faster than he’d thought it would. Normally by this time of the year, he’d be traveling south to escape the cold, but they were much farther north than he liked. He wasn’t exactly sure where they were, but halfway through the day the toe of his boot caught on something covered by weeds, and he stumbled. The metallic click that had echoed through the air made him pause, and he knelt, brushing the weeds aside so he could get a look at the sign. When the words came into view, faded from time but legible, Angus couldn’t help smiling.

  ST. LOUIS 416 MILES

  “What are you looking at?” Naya asked.

  She’d stopped a few steps in front of him and was looking back, her eyes squinted against the bright sun.

  “Just a sign,” he said.

  He gave the words another glance before standing, the smile still on his lips.

  Naya studied the sign like she would be able to decipher the significance, shaking her head after a second. “You’ve been there? St. Louis?”

  “Once,” he said as they started walking again. “Long time ago. Back in the beginning of all this.” He glanced her way, his smile widening as he remembered. “My brother and me drove through there on our way west. Held up a few stores.”