Rules of Survival(70)

He stopped in front of us. “I’ve done a lot of things—most illegal. Which one are you referring to?”

“You killed my mom.”

“She got exactly what she deserved,” he snapped, stomping his foot against the concrete. The beam of light from upstairs fell across his face, giving him an almost inhuman quality. “She stole my heart and my money, and then to top it all off, threatened me.”

He might have been waiting for us to ask questions so he could continue his little monologue, but I refused to give him that. Unfortunately, he continued anyway. If he was the one who’d been chasing us, then he’d been saving this up for a long time.

“I loved Melissa. From the first moment I saw her, I knew she had to be mine. We met in high school when we were fourteen and started running the con. It was little stuff at first. Identity scams. Credit fraud. Stuff to pay for nice dinners and exotic hotel rooms, but she wanted to go bigger. She was always looking to ‘trade up.’ She pulled in that shmuck Patrick, and that’s when things fell apart. I got so tired of hearing her go on and on about how smart he was and how we’d never be where we were if it weren’t for him.”

Mick started to pace.

“Every idea I had—she needed to run it by him first. When she told me she was pregnant and wanted to quit, I was thrilled. I was finally going to get her all to myself—and then she had to ruin it. She mentioned him and the plans she had for all of us. Well”—he snickered—“I kind of lost it. I’ll admit I acted a little rash and things got a bit out of control, but, well… You know how love is.”

This guy was insane. “Something tells me whatever you think you felt for her, it wasn’t love.”

He ignored me.

“So I went along with one last job, figuring it could kill two birds with a single stone. It was one final score to set us up for a long time, and the opportunity to get rid of Patrick once and for all.”

“How would that get rid of Patrick?” And then I understood. “Oh my God. It was you. You killed Bengali’s son. You were going to frame Patrick.”

“I left for five minutes. Five f*cking minutes! No one was supposed to be there for hours.”

But someone was there. “Mom came back, didn’t she?”

He stopped pacing and nodded, expression furious. “She found the kid and screwed it up. Put her prints all over everything in the room. I came back and, while she was distracted, managed to plant a small piece of evidence. Patrick’s wallet.”

“And she just believed you?” I found it hard to believe, even in her younger years, that Mom would ever be that gullible.

“No. Patrick was an angel in her eyes. He could do no wrong. We ran, and she took the wallet with her. God forbid her precious Patrick be implicated. She needed more convincing—and luckily, he took care of that for me.”

Shaun balked. “He took care of it?”

“Later that night we met up outside town to decide what to do. The cops were crawling all over town and a witness had seen Melissa fleeing the house, covered in blood. Bengali had also reported one of his accounts was completely cleared out. It was all over the news—along with Melissa’s picture. Patrick confronted her. It was funny, really. He came at her like a madman. Never gave her a chance to get a word in. He accused her of killing the kid and taking all the money.”

“And what, she didn’t defend herself?” I snapped. Mom would never let anyone attack her like that. The woman I knew would never take that from someone.

“That bastard was her weakness. The accusation in his eyes. The fury in his voice. Melissa was devastated that he believed it all so easily. That he had no faith in her.”

No faith in her. And maybe that’s why Mom had never told me the truth about her past. Because the harsh reality of it had already cost her someone she’d obviously cared about. Maybe she was worried about what I’d think.

Suddenly I hated myself for second-guessing her.

“Once I got her away from him, I was able to convince her that maybe the reason Patrick had attacked her so viciously was because he really was guilty. The kid was dead and the money was gone. His wallet had been at the scene.” Mick smiled. “Eventually she just began to believe me.”

“And it was you,” Shaun growled. “You killed the kid and stole the money just to get rid of Patrick?”

Mick shrugged. “Guilty.”

“That’s all good—in a twisted, douche-bag way—but it doesn’t explain why you killed Melissa.” Shaun prodded.

“She never really let go of him. Every once in a while, she’d become obsessed with finding out the truth. Then, one day, she did.”

Now I understood. The information the letter mentioned must have been the proof she had against Mick. It would clear her name, and if the cops could actually find him, free mine, too. “She found evidence, didn’t she? That it was you, not Patrick. That you’d planned the whole thing.”

“And then she stole my money and ran.”

“Your money? Dude. You stole it,” Shaun said with a laugh. But Mick was lost in recollection.

“When I realized she was gone, I went crazy. I looked everywhere.”

“You have to be the sickest shit I know,” Shaun said. “And believe me, that’s saying something.”