by J. E. Taylor
Sam nodded. “Deal,” he said. “I have to know something.”
“What?”
“Did you really kill your stepfather?”
Chris looked out the window. “Yeah.”
“He was my friend.”
“He raped Anna on a nightly basis and I thought he killed her.” Chris glanced back at Sam.
Sam’s head snapped toward Chris, the anger in his eyes evident. “He wouldn’t do such a thing.”
Chris laughed. “Sam, he did, just like he carved up my face.”
“I thought that was an accident?”
“Nope,” Chris said. “You weren’t around very much, were you? The old man used to beat the crap out of me regularly, almost as often as his nightly adventures with my sister.” The bitterness in his voice filled the car.
“Jesus,” he replied. “Did he ever hit Chris or Frank?”
“He tried to hit Chris, but I always stepped in. I wasn’t about to let him hurt my little brother.” He looked out the window. “He never touched Frank or Marian.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
Chris shook his head. “Did you know he had my mom killed?”
“That was an accident. Jacob Aris loved your mother.”
Chris laughed. “My mother was going to leave him.”
“How would you know that?”
“I overheard her talking to Anna. She wasn’t happy and she was going to talk to a lawyer about getting a divorce.” He took a deep breath. “I also overheard the fight that she had with him. The next thing I know, my mother is dead.” He glared at Sam. “So don’t tell me it was an accident.”
Sam pulled off the Eastside Highway and onto 52nd Street and stopped at the curb. He looked over at Chris and sighed. “I knew she was thinking about leaving him. But he would never intentionally kill her, Ty.” He closed his eyes. “Jacob was never the same after your mother died.”
“Sam, I don’t want to hear it,” Chris said as he looked at the deserted warehouses around them. He looked over his shoulder across the highway and there was another one. “Shit,” he said. Chris, help me out, which one? He thought and looked at the three of them again. If I were her, I would use the one on the water because of the limited access. “Jacob was a poor excuse for what I became. I knew it was wrong, but I didn’t care,” Chris added as he surveyed the area again. It was getting dark and he had to make a choice. He looked over his shoulder again and saw a flash of light in one of the windows across the highway. “Until I met Jess,” he finished. “Over there.” He pointed at the warehouse behind them.
Sam nodded and pulled out, doing a u-turn in the road. 52nd Street went under the Eastside Highway and ended in a deserted parking lot next to the warehouse He parked and Chris opened the door.
“Ty?”
Chris turned, the gravel crunching under his feet, and met Sam’s gaze.
“Be careful.”
“You too, Sam,” Chris replied. “If I’m not back in a half hour, call in the cavalry.”
Sam nodded and Chris closed the door and slipped toward the building. It was dark enough so the black gi blended with the asphalt.
Chapter 35
Tom stared at Sharon when she pushed the door open. His heart dropped at the sight of the unconscious boys being carried into the room by two thugs.
She pointed at the chairs and they set the children down. She tightened the straps around their tiny arms and ankles.
“What have you done?” Tom said. He stared at his son, his heart jumping into his throat, pounding hard enough to hurt with each breath.
“Christopher Aris is dead.” She smiled triumphantly, causing Tom to snap his head toward her.
Fear got the better of him and his bladder let loose, filling the room with the sharp stench of urine and Sharon laughed.
“Goddamnit, don’t do this!” He yanked on the chains, panic overriding his senses.
The men returned with Emily and Eric, both unconscious as well and she directed them to two more chairs.
“Please don’t do this,” Tom begged and the men sent disgusted glances in his direction before they skittered out of the room.
A few minutes later, one of the men carried Jessica’s body, clad in the white dress and the diamond necklace gleaming from around her neck.
Sharon whispered something in his ear and he nodded and left the room, leaving them alone again.
Tom fell to his knees watching his wife chain her to the opposite wall. “Please don’t do this,” he begged, tears blurring his vision and cutting hot paths down his face.
“You have got to learn who’s in control,” Sharon said and stood. She walked over to the table and picked up a syringe. She put some clear liquid in the needle and walked over to the children. She grabbed Emily’s arm and slid the needle in, pushing the liquid inside her veins. She repeated this with Eric and then Jessica, leaving the two young boys alone.
* * * *
Jessica opened her eyes, her vision distorted, blurring at first and then settling into fuzzy focus. Blinking, they sharpened and scanned the layout in front of her. Chloroform. That’s what she smelled in the car and the thought coupled with the clarity of what surrounded her sent icebergs through her veins. She struggled to her feet. “Where’s Chris?”
“Dead as a doornail,” Sharon said, grinning like an evil bitch.
The impact of that statement was immediate and overwhelming and Jessica fell to her knees. Her chest constricted with pain suffocating her. “No,” she gasped. “No!” Her scream echoed off the walls followed by the harsh sobs ripping from her chest.
If he were alive, they wouldn’t be here.
“Jessie,” Tom whispered.
Eric’s head whipped around at the sound of his voice. “Son of a bitch,” he said calling the attention of everyone that was conscious to him, including his mother.
“Very interesting statement,” Sharon said staring at the four children, her eyes falling on little Tommy like she was seeing him for the first time and her gaze snapped to her husband and back as she approached the unconscious boy.
“Get away from him, you bitch,” Emily snapped from her seat.
Sharon pulled a gun and shot Emily between the eyes, killing her instantly. She put the gun back in her waistband and returned her attention to Tommy again, ignoring the shocked silence that fell over the room.
This time, Jessica couldn’t breathe at all and passed out on the floor. The reality of her daughter being killed before her eyes was too much for her brain to acknowledge.
* * * *
Eric inhaled sharply, his eyes filling with tears and he glanced at the bitch that killed his sister. He had no forewarning. No chance to try to block the shot, to put himself between the bullet and Emily and a large empty hole appeared in the pit of his stomach. The ringing in his ears finally subsided and sound returned. Her voice, grating under his skin, targeting his youngest brother.
Sharon looked over at Tom. His gaze still locked on Emily with his mouth open, eyes wide and shocked. “Is this YOUR child?”
Tom looked slowly away from Emily, his eyes meeting Eric’s for a moment before meeting Sharon’s. He shook his head.
“He looks an awful lot like you,” she said and looked over at CJ. “He’s a spitting image of Chris Aris.” She pointed, glanced at Jessica, who was still passed out and walked over to Tom. She grabbed his face. “Is that your son?” she asked again.
Tom couldn’t speak. If he said yes, Sharon would do the same thing she did with Emily, if he said no, he didn’t know what she would do.
“Please don’t hurt my brothers,” Eric said, tears streaking down his face, causing Sharon to look in his direction. Silently, he called CJ, trying to wake him but he was still out for the count. He glanced over at his sister and stifled the sob that wanted to escape his lips. Where the hell was Chris? “Please,” he said closing his eyes and hanging his head. He tried to locate Chris and came up empty. The despair that crept into his heart came c
lose to that of his mother’s. Mom, he thought as he looked over at her. She was slowly coming back to them.
* * * *
“My baby girl,” Jessica cried as she looked over at her daughter. Danny will never forgive me; she thought and then her eyes landed on Eric and the two boys.
“IS THAT YOUR SON?” Sharon screamed in Tom’s face.
“No, he’s Chris’s son,” Jessica answered, the motherly instinct to protect her children coming alive again. She stood and glared at Sharon. “And so help me God, if you harm any more of my children, I will tear your throat out with my bare hands,” she said through clenched teeth, her voice shaking with rage.
Sharon pulled the gun out and shot Jessica in the stomach. “Shut up, bitch.”
Jessica didn’t flinch as the bullet passed through her body, the path behind it healed immediately, leaving only a small circle of red on the immaculate white dress. That was two bullets. She looked at the semi-automatic gun that Sharon had and thought it held six shots in the clip. “Fuck you,” she said and Sharon shot again, this time, the bullet ripped through her bare shoulder. Jessica healed the bone and flesh within her body, but left the bullet hole facing Sharon still oozing, she still didn’t flinch. Three more, she thought and Sharon strode across the room putting the muzzle to her forehead.
Chapter 36
Chris made it into the warehouse unnoticed and stood with his back against the wall surveying the lay of the building. Chris closed his eyes and inhaled, calming his frantic heartbeat. A gunshot echoed somewhere above him and his head snapped toward the stairwell. He took the stairs three at a time and recklessly bounded toward where the sound originated.
“IS THAT YOUR SON?” Chris heard Sharon scream and his heart jumped in his throat as he hit the landing and heard the second shot almost immediately followed by the third one.
“Oh God,” he whispered trying to keep the shakes at bay and slipped into the hallway. Homing in on the exact location, he started down the hallway but froze at the click of a hammer. “Fuck,” he said and quelled the shakes, the barrel of the gun pressing into the small of his back.
“Move,” the man said and pushed Chris toward the door.
Chris obeyed and threw the door open in time to see Sharon put the gun to his wife’s head. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Chris snarled, slipping back into control.
Sharon looked at him in disbelief, turning the gun his way and pulling the trigger.
Chris already anticipated her move and ducked out of the way. The man behind him was not as lucky, as the bullet tore through his throat, knocking him back into the hallway.
He stepped in the direction of the discarded gun.
Sharon put the gun back to Jessica’s head and looked at Chris. “I will kill her.”
Chris froze and turned his head, meeting her deranged glare.
Jessica’s chest rose and fell harnessed by fury and sorrow and she cast a glance in his direction. Her eyebrows furrowed.
“Move slowly into the room and close the door behind you,” Sharon demanded.
Chris did as she said, his heart pounding so hard he thought it would barrel out of his chest at any moment. With the fear alive in his veins, he scanned the rest of the room, his gaze settling on Emily. He stopped and inhaled. My fault, he thought and blinked back the tears.
He looked back at Sharon, putting his game-face back on. “Tell me what you want?” he asked, using the smooth voice he used to use on his victims and moved further into the room.
Jessica recognized the voice, the tone, the inflection and stared at him. When he finally glanced over at her, he sent one thought her way and she gasped.
No more power, babe, it was the only way I could come back.
Sharon smiled at his question. “For Tom to see her suffer and die.” She looked back at Jessica and pulled the gun away, moving it slowly around the room until it fell back on Chris. “Now move over there.” She pointed to a pole that had wrist shackles hanging from it. “Take off your shirt and hook yourself in.” She walked over to CJ and pointed the gun at his head. “Or your son dies.”
Chris didn’t hesitate; he walked over to the pole, stripping the top of the karate outfit off and the black t-shirt underneath. He hooked his hands into the shackles and looked over at his wife, dread filling every fiber, but better she take out her anger on him than anyone else in the room. It would buy them time. Time for CJ to wake up and set things right.
Sharon placed the gun on the table and picked up something that looked like a whip with several strands on it, but at the end of each strand was a small spiked ball. She laughed as she walked over and stood behind him. She ran her hand over his perfect back.
“My, my, if I had known just how sexy you were, I might have chosen you instead of Tom,” she purred and smiled at Jessica reaching around him and running her hand over the front of his pants.
Chris turned his hips away from her and sent a glare over his shoulder. “Not in this lifetime, bitch.”
She toyed with him, waving the spikes in his field of vision and running her hand over his ass. “What if I gave you a choice? The end of the whip or the opportunity to fuck me?”
“That’s easy. I’ll take the whip any day over your twisted cunt.”
She stepped back and cracked the whip against his back.
Chris put his head against the pole but didn’t cry out even though the spikes ripped through his flesh. He glanced over at his stepson. Can you wake CJ? Eric shook his head. Chris closed his eyes as the next deluge of pain tore through his back.
“Stop!” Jessica screamed and Sharon pulled the gun, firing the fifth shot at her. This one barely missed her heart, and she healed the path again. Chris’s pained gaze met hers.
Crack after crack and he didn’t utter a sound, the pain as acute as any of the horrors he experienced and he clung to consciousness, forcing his legs to hold him as long as he could. They needed time even if it meant trading his life. The speed and power increased and Sharon growled with each hit. He was getting to her, his silence frustrating her, taunting. He caught Tom’s gaze and he stretched his lips into a sadistic smile, one Tom was very familiar with and then his legs gave out. He fell, his knees not quite reaching the ground and he bit the yelp back, breathing through the sudden ripple of pain as his back muscles tightened to hold his weight.
A sudden flare bloomed in his temple and blackness engulfed him.
* * * *
The butt of the gun slammed down into his temple along with a guttural cry of frustration and Chris slumped, unconscious.
“Sharon, please don’t,” Tom said, wondering why Chris hadn’t stopped her.
“He can’t,” Eric answered in a whisper, glancing over his shoulder at Tom. “He gave up more than just his powers too,” Eric said and a tear slipped down his cheek.
Sharon unclasped the cuffs and dragged Chris to the cross beam laid out on the floor. She tied Chris’s arms to the wood and left him there, crossing to the table and picking up three large nails and a hammer. “This was supposed to be for you,” she said to Jessica as she passed. “But I think it’s better if you watch him die like this.”
“Sharon, stop this now!” Tom struggled against the chains, watching her line the nail to the middle of Chris’s wrist.
Sharon slammed the nail with the hammer and it slid easily through the flesh and bone. Chris groaned but didn’t wake up. She slammed the hammer down until the head of the nail was inches from his skin and embedded deep in the thick wood. She repeated this with his other wrist and then walked to his feet, taking his shoes and socks off, lining his feet up on the small wooden wedge before glancing at Jessica with a smile. “Crucifixion is such a nasty way to die. You suffocate to death, slowly.” She slammed the nail through his feet and pounded the nail in as far as the others. Her breath wheezed from exertion when she stepped back, dropping the hammer on the floor.
“That ought to do it,” she said and crossed to a switch hanging near the door
and pushed the button, watching as the chains holding the cross slowly lifted. She pressed the stop button when the base of the cross reached eight feet off the floor.
* * * *
Chris hitched his breath in as the pain enveloped him. He didn’t have to look to know. This was his dream, he was going to die and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. He tilted his head back and screamed in pain and frustration, causing all eyes in the room to fall on him. “You fucking bitch!”
She pointed the gun at Eric. “Eenie,” the gun moved to CJ, “Meeny,” she pointed it at Tommy, “Miny,” she landed on Jessica, “Mo.” She grinned.
Chris fell silent, watching her. Tom was right, she was crazier than Frank.
“You aren’t Christopher Aris, are you?”
“No.”
“You’re Ty Aris, aren’t you?”
“Wrong again.” Chris smiled and slid his glance to Jessica, pushing with his feet to give his arms a break. Weakened by both blood loss and pain, what was supposed to be a slow suffocation accelerated and it became increasingly harder to exhale. The pain made him swoon a little. He shook his head to keep from passing out. He needed to wake CJ and closed his eyes, concentrating all his thoughts on waking his son. He couldn’t project them like before, but he hoped somehow, his son would hear his father calling and react.
Eric flinched at the volume of the cry coming from Chris’s mind and glanced over at his brothers. CJ was still out, but Tommy was waking up. He looked back up at Chris. “What else?” he whispered and Chris heard him, his eyes flashed the pain he felt and it wasn’t because he was nailed to a cross. Eric watched as his stepfather’s eyes drifted over to his dead sister.
My powers and my soul, Chris answered Eric with a thought and glanced over at his wife. My soul, babe, I traded my soul for you.
Jessica let out a sob. He traded his powers and his soul to come back
