Blood Is Thicker Than Water (A New Adult Dark Thriller Series of Mystery and Suspense) ( free series of thriller, mystery, suspense and horror) (Next Of Kin Book 1)

by Aray Brown

  “You ain’t nothing.” The short man said, disgusted.

  “Is she dead?” The slim man asked.

  “She will be. You’re way overpriced.” He replied, looking at her like she was trash.

  The short man doused her with gasoline and withdrew a lighter. He felt he was doing a service to the community by ridding it of human waste.

  “What are you doing?” The slim man asked.

  “Cleaning up.” The short man said, firmly

  “You’ve gone too far this time.” The slim man replied, snatched it from his hand.

  The short man swung at him and took back the lighter.

  “You can never go too far.”

  Suddenly they broke out in a fight. The slim man tackled him. He had finally grew tired of his antics and felt guilty for every one of their dirty deeds. He wasn’t afraid of him anymore. Just as he moved toward Isabel’s body, the short man engulfed her body in flames and then pummeled him to the ground.

  “Stop it man you’re going to kill em!” The tall man exclaimed.

  “Get ya own ride home old yella, fucking pussy!” The short man said, spit on the ground. They hopped in the car and sped off, leaving them behind in the dust.

  The slim man got up, put one hand over the busted rib and trudged to her scorched body. He extracted his coat and shielded her body, then watched the flames die out. He reached for her purse, retrieved her cell and called for help.

  “911, what’s your emergency?”

  “She has burns all over her body.”

  “May I have your name please?”

  “Todd.

  “Todd, does she have a pulse?”

  “I don’t know.”

  22.

  The doctor’s prognosis; Isabel wouldn’t survive during the night. She was severely burned and badly beaten.

  The nurse rifled through Isabel’s purse in search of identification. She found Medina’s number and called her immediately.

  “Isabel Kraygen?” Price asked, heart thumping.

  “She’s in ICU, room 206.” The receptionist said.

  Price scurried to the elevator, pushed the second floor button, and then flew past the hospital staff to the room where a seasoned Lieutenant was questioning Isabel. Half of her body was wrapped in gauze. Price listened outside.

  “Tell me what happened?” The lieutenant asked.

  “I just finished my set. I work at The Black Tiger.”

  The middle–aged man scribbled on his notepad.

  “You think I deserve this don’t you?” Isabel asked, cold stare.

  “What happened next?” The lieutenant changed the subject.

  “I was in the parking lot and three guys cornered me. They beat me up and forced themselves on me.” Isabel said.

  “Have you seen them before?” The lieutenant asked.

  “No.” Isabel said.

  “Would you recognize em if you saw them again?” The lieutenant asked.

  “Their faces are burned into my skull.” Isabel replied.

  “That’s all for now.” The lieutenant said.

  “That’s it?” Isabel inquired.

  “We got the DNA samples from the rape kit to analyze. Oh and one of the guys saved your life. We have him in custody. These creeps rarely have a conscience. Call me if you need anything else.” He said, turning the knob.

  “What happens to him?” Isabel asked.

  “If he cooperates and turns the rest of them in, he’ll get a reduced sentence…I’ll be seeing ya.” Sticking a cigarette in his mouth, he lit a match.

  She was mesmerized by the flame. The middle-aged man lit up, blew out the fire from the match, and then made a quick exit.

  Outside, Price hid around the corner.

  “Lieutenant.” Price cried out.

  The middle-aged man halted.

  “What can I do for you?” He asked, the cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

  “My name is Medina Price. I’m her sister.”

  “And?” The lieutenant asked.

  “Her car was stolen. The person who did it might be involved.”

  “Nonsense, it was a three-man job. They worked her over pretty good too.” The lieutenant took a long drag from the cigarette.

  “I need you to put an ATL out on her car.” Medina said.

  “It’s probably being sold for parts by now.” The lieutenant replied.

  “What if it was your family?” Medina asked.

  “I never met ‘em and you’re wasting my time.” The lieutenant finished his nicotine fix for the day, squished it with his shoe.

  “But--“

  “I’m sorry Price; it’s out of my hands.” The lieutenant interrupted.

  The middle-aged man turned around, walked in the opposite direction. His pace escalating from slow to fast.

  “How are you holding up?” Price asked.

  “I’m still alive.” Isabel said.

  “You didn’t deserve this.” Price replied.

  “Maybe I did.” Isabel said, feeling like she was nothing.

  “No--“

  “How was Annalise? Was she kind?” Isabel interjected.

  “Yes.”Medina said.

  “He used to be kind. You may not understand this, but on some level I loved him. I loved it. It’s amazing what you can get used to when it’s all you know.”

  “Issy--“

  “I never thanked you for coming to get me.”

  “You would’ve done the same for me.”

  Seeing Isabel’s weakened state almost broke her. Her fiery vexation burned brighter than the sun. She blamed Phil Saxton and blamed the system.

  Isabel was lost and she didn’t know how to pull her back from the brink.

  The doctor slowly removed the gauze, taking off every little piece until there was none. He looked at her partially burnt face in the mirror and gasped at the sight of it. Her face was everything to her and it was gone. Isabel averted her eyes. She didn’t want to go through life being a monster, a freak. She was emotionless. There were no more tears to cry. No anger, nothing. They broke her.

  An experience like that had a tendency to change you for the worse and that was where she was headed.

  When Isabel became well enough, she went down to the police station to make a positive ID. Medina came for moral support.

  The lieutenant greeted them and put them in a closed off room, placed a photo montage in front of Isabel. The twins studied the faces very closely as if they could see the criminal’s worst fears.

  “Take your time.” The lieutenant reassured her.

  Isabel pointed to the pictures on the far left and described them in vivid detail.

  “It was them.” Isabel said, motioned.

  “Are you sure?”The lieutenant asked.

  “Yes” Isabel said.

  “Okay. Thanks for coming down. You’re real brave.” The lieutenant said.

  “Funny, I don’t feel brave.”

  “Do you know how many women don’t press charges because their scared? These two men will be going away for a long time, thanks to you.”

  Isabel never forgot what happened, still had reoccurring visions of it. What made it worse was there were no witnesses.

  They ruined her. She could’ve made something out of herself. She had the power to be what she wanted. But it was too late for her. The world had chewed her up and spit her out.

  23.

  Medina wanted justice for those that had suffered, for her. She wasn’t going to rest until she got it and no prison sentence was going to satisfy her.

  “I don’t want any part of this.” Ava said, uneasy.

  “Duly noted, you’re still going to help me right?” Medina asked.

  “If this comes back to me, I’ll be kicked out of the precinct and thrown in jail.” Ava said.

  “It won’t.”Medina said, assuring.

  Ava was a Detective aiming to make her own way in a man’s world. She hated men, although she had to put on a facade in front of her
colleagues.

  Much to her surprise, Medina didn’t have to do much persuading.

  The arraignment was at 0800. Medina was prepped and waiting in the DOC truck.

  “I have no respect for people who think they’re above the law. Up until now you’ve been lucky. Your victims were too scared to come forward, but not this time. This time you’re gonna pay with your lives, without the possibility of parole.” The judge decreed, banged the gavel.

  “Get this trash out of my sight.” The judge added.

  The judge ordered them to pay Isabel’s hospital bills and thirty thousand dollars in restitution.

  The officer cuffed them and led them to the truck where Price awaited their presence. She was disguised as a Corrections Officer. Price had on a matching cap that concealed her face.

  They climbed in the back. Staring at their faces in the rearview mirror made her more furious. They won’t know what they did to her.

  “What are you gawking at?” The short man said.

  “Nothing.” Price replied.

  “You look familiar.” The tall man said.

  A male guard hopped in the passenger seat. Price plunged the key in the ignition, rammed the engine as hard as it would allow and took off,

  “Maybe I should drive.” The guard said.

  Price ignored her.

  “Where are you taking us?” The tall man said.

  “Shut up convict.” Price said.

  “You passed the off ramp. This isn’t the way. Where the hell are you going?” The guard asked.

  Price extracted the pistol strapped under the seat and put a bullet in his head. The prisoners were nervous. Price squinted her eyes at them.

  Price parked in a cold dark place across from a ditch.

  “Get out, now. Move it!” Medina said, aiming the revolver.

  “Okay. Calm down.” The short man said.

  “You don’t talk.” Medina said, pressing the gun against his temple.

  The two men walked along the unknown path at her command.

  “Who are you?” The short man said.

  “What do you want from us?” The tall man chimed in.

  “Satisfaction.” Price pulled the trigger. Blood and brains were splattered all over the road. The tall man fled. Price shot him in the back, then got the gas can from the truck and poured it over the bodies. She dropped the lighter and watched them burn. That’s for Issy, and for what we both lost. She thought.

  Price swapped the license plates, and then hurled the DOC truck underwater with the fatalities inside.

  Isabel attached the rope to the window casing and placed the noose around her neck, then clambered up the wooden chair to the top; pretended she was scaling a mountain.

  Isabel’s life aspiration was to be greater than her parents. Unfortunately she didn’t get a choice. It was stolen from her.

  The voices in her head were overwhelming. She couldn’t take it anymore.

  Suddenly the chair burst into thirds.

  Isabel’s dangling body was still…

  Her stomach was slit open and the guts were spewing out.

  Upon opening the door, Price shrieked with terror in her eyes. She didn’t expect to see what she saw. Price became hysterical. Why! The temptation to pull out her eyes from the sockets was too great.

  To die in such a way is abominable. It was too much. Price felt alone and like someone had ripped her heart out of her chest.

  It had been them against the world, now it was just her.

  She stared at her monstrous face as mascara ran down her cheeks. It left her breathless.

  In hindsight, Isabel was consistently envious of Medina and of her life. She would give anything to trade places and lead the life she wanted.

  Isabel’s suicide wasn’t her own. She had help to push her off the proverbial cliff. Price blamed the two men in the DOC truck, Phil Saxton and every other corrupt social worker in the city.

  Most importantly she blamed the man was responsible for all their heartache; the gunman that started it all—the squirrely man that had watched their every move. Price had regained her memory and it was their miscue in which this happened. It would be their cross to bear.

  Price looked at Isabel again. Her eyes gave the illusion that she was being watched. I have no one left. She’s a fucking coward.

  Isabel wanted to die.

  But she still had unfinished business.....

  Price would soon face the unexplainable.

  An enormous flash of light came over her. Price looked in the mirror, got hold of a knife and made a wide slit in the middle of her stomach. She swathed the noose around her neck and mounted the chair as men’s voices vibrated over and over in her head.

  You’re still a hoe. A hoe never stops being a hoe. You ain’t nothing. Is she dead? She will be.

  Price felt dead inside.

  The chair gave way and snapped in three different places. Price could feel the noose strangling her tighter and tighter. She gasped for air...

  Isabel’s angelic eyes ran across her mind, thereby ending the horrid reenactment.

  24.

  Price lay on the floor coughing, getting her bearings.

  She knew it was far from over as a single hot tear coursed from her cheek. Price felt everything that was buried deep inside Isabel. The pain was too unbearable to overcome.

  Price passed out…

  Isabel’s spirit left her body and stared down at her. The spirit came closer and closer…

  Price recovered and had no recollection of what took place. She chalked it up to her lack of sleep. Price hadn’t slept since her sister was in the hospital. She got a whiff of her perfume and gazed at the casing to find Isabel’s stock-still corpse mocking her. It’s all in my head. It has to be.

  Price shut her eyes, then returned her gaze…

  Isabel’s carcass was gone…

  * * * * * * * * *

  “One more drink man, c’mon.” Darius begged.

  “You’re cut off.” The bartender was firm.

  “Help a brother out.” Darius pushed.

  “You’re not my brother. Do yourself a favor and sleep it off.” The bartender said.

  Darius swallowed the last drop from the glass and heaved it at the man’s head. The bartender ducked. The glass shattered the mirror behind him.

  Annoyed, he kicked him out of the tavern and chucked his keys in the gutter as a small form of payback.

  Darius trudged in the humble abode, fumbled upstairs to the twin’s room. The room was silent and Price was sound asleep.

  Darius grabbed her by the hair and kissed her. Price kissed him back.

  “Issy.” Darius said.

  “Issy’s dead.” She said, aimed the revolver at his testicles and opened fire.

  Price wanted to bathe in his blood. A sadistic grin highlighted her face which made Darius mortified. Price shot him in the chest.

  “What, you don’t recognize me?” She asked, watched him struggle until the end.

  She reveled in it, called it saving another girl’s life. The power she had in her hands was hard to resist.

  Darius wasn’t worthy of forgiveness. In her eyes he deserved to die.

  The last minute leading up to his demise, Darius saw her grainy looking face and dark and ominous eyes. It was as if she was possessed.

  Price got a damp rag and cleared the blood from her brown skin. She smiled.

  25.

  February, 2012

  Price was enlisted in Rockland County Police Academy two weeks after her twin’s brutal death. She wanted to join the law enforcement like her mother and dreadfully wanted to forget her past. It was a matter of survival for her. She reflected on Isabel.

  Isabel wanted freedom so bad yet she didn’t live long enough to enjoy it. As much as Price denied it, she carried the burden with her.

  Mimicking the officers in training, Price aimed the rifle at the target and emptied the clip. Price was adamant about being the best in the class and making it fo
r Isabel as well as herself.

  “All guts, and none of the glory.” Jordyss said over her shoulder.

  “Jordyss? What are you doing here?” Medina asked.

  “My father got transferred. Figured I’d enlist. Where’s your other half?” Jordyss asked.

  Medina lowered the weapon and looked at her barrenly.

  “She’s extinct.” Medina said, revisiting the post.

  “Don’t act like a stone wall; I know Issy was important to you.” Jordyss said.

  “Now she’s six feet under. We’re all dying. It was just her time.” Medina reloaded the rifle.

  Price’s disposition had changed overnight. Her cold and distant behavior had Jordyss mystified.

  “Don’t you miss her?” Jordyss asked.

  “Shoot first, talk later.” The instructor glared.

  “She’s better off. She was born to die.” Price blasted away.

  “What happened to the girl I used to know?” Jordyss asked.

  “She got smart...and realized this world didn’t belong to her anymore.”

  February 10, 2012

  "Blevins, you got a visitor." The guard barked, opened the cell.

  Maize shuffled down the dreary halls, looked at what his life had come to. He had a lot of time to think, about Zoe and the gruesome murder. About the man who took away his bride. Maize mourned her death every day of every passing hour, of every minute he was locked up. He wondered if the real killer was still out there and if he took another life. Who he was and why he did it. Maize obsessed over him night after night. Imagined what he looked like and what kind of man he was. What kind of life he lived and if he had a family.

  Maize sat in front of her, eyes wandering for a bit.

  One word entered his mind. Zoe. He tried to forget about her. Price bore a strong likeness that didn’t help the cause.