What Have You Done(76)

“I know you know I killed Kerri. We don’t have to pretend anymore. The other day I followed you to Rocco’s place. Been following you around a lot, actually. After you left, I went back and had a talk with Rocco. He told me what he found in Kerri’s files. Said he made a copy on a flash drive and gave it to you. That’s what I need. You give me the flash drive, and I’m out of your life. I’ll leave tomorrow, and you’ll never hear from me again. I’ll be in Mexico or Canada or Argentina or whatever, but you won’t have to ever see me again, and you won’t have to worry about me getting caught. You give me the drive, I let you haul ass out of here, and I’m in the wind. How does that sound?”

Don took a breath and placed his hands on the wheel. “I don’t have a flash drive,” he said slowly. “What Rocco told you was wrong.”

“Don’t play with me.”

“I’m not playing with you. He couldn’t crack the encryption, so we scrapped the idea. What you saw was me coming out of Rocco’s place empty-handed. There is no flash drive.”

Sean shook his head and began to cry. His sobs were loud against the otherwise silent backdrop of the night in the park. “Don’t lie to me, Don! This is too much as it is. Give me the drive!”

“I don’t have it.”

Sean reached into his jacket and came away with his Beretta. He pointed it at his partner. “I don’t want to hurt you. I’m serious. I just want the drive, and we can go our separate ways.”

Don chuckled. “You really think that’s going to happen? You think I’m going to let you go after all this? You’re done, Sean. You’re going down. Now get that gun out of my face before I shove it up your ass. Who do you think you are, pointing that at me? Lower the gun. Now.”

Sean was crying harder now, the Beretta trembling in his hand. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Put the gun down!”

“Give me the drive!”

“You son of a—”

In a flash of movement, Don reached for the Beretta. Sean pulled away, back toward the passenger’s side door, and squeezed the trigger. The shot exploded in the tight confines of the car, burying a bullet in Don’s sternum. Don cried out in pain and fear. The pain was more intense than he could’ve imagined. Blood streamed from the wound and pooled onto his lap, then onto the seat.

“I don’t want to do this!” Sean screamed. “Why did you make me do this?” Don could hardly hear what Sean was saying. His head fell back as the pain intensified. He was certain he was going to pass out. He couldn’t breathe, the bullet undoubtedly having collapsed a lung. The blood was rushing from his wound. He couldn’t stop it. “You killed her because she found out about you and Vanessa,” he mumbled. “You son of a bitch. She found out about the others too, and you killed her for it.”

“Tell me where the drive is! Please!”

“That… poor… girl.”

Don was losing consciousness. The car smelled of sweat and gunpowder. It smelled like a crime scene. Like death.

Sean grabbed him by the back of the head and pulled him into a tight embrace. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want this. Please, you have to believe me. I didn’t want this. I love you.”

Sean let go, and Don fell back against his seat. He opened his eyes to face his partner. The pain was fading, which meant he’d be dead soon. Of that, he had no doubt.

“Please, Don. Where is the drive?”

“I… love… you.”

“Where is the drive?”

Don closed his eyes.

“Don! Tell me! Please!”

Silence.



Sean screamed as loud as he could. It was a sound that was a combination of fear, sadness, and rage. His body shook violently as he took out a cloth and wiped down whatever he’d touched, then used the cloth to open the door. He climbed out into the cool night air and stumbled around to the driver’s side of the car. He checked his clothes to make sure there was no blood on them. There wasn’t.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled as another set of tears broke free. “Forgive me.”

And with those final words, Sean emptied the Beretta’s clip into his partner from outside the car to make it look like a gang hit. When the clip was empty and the hammer clicked without firing, Sean stuffed the gun into his waistband, turned, and made his way to the SEPTA station, where he would hop on a train and get back to Philadelphia. In the dead of night, he hurried toward the station, but in truth, there was really no need to. No police were coming. The neighbors weren’t calling anything in.

The sound of gunfire was nothing new here.





58

An hour had passed since Don picked up Sean. Liam stared from across the street, fiddling with the change in his pocket until he was certain no one was around. Sean’s house was dark. There was no movement anywhere. He crossed the road without taking his eyes from the front door. An empty paper cup blew down the street with the help of a brisk wind that accompanied the night. He could hear the sound of an approaching car but figured it was still too far away to be a concern. He kept his legs moving.

He looked from door to window, first floor to second, confirming there was no one home. Don was with Sean—he knew that—yet he couldn’t stop shaking from the surging adrenaline.