A Necessary Evil(32)

For the first time in Collin’s life, he was afraid. Inside, he was shaking like a leaf on a tree. His heart was beating a million miles a minute. But he wouldn’t let Franklin see him sweat. Instead, he held his head high and said, “Confess your sins, old man. I want to hear you say it.”

The old man smiled but didn’t lower his gun. “All right. Fine. I’ll say it. Yes, I killed your lowlife father. I took him to a warehouse on the south side of town, and I tortured him for two days before I finally put a bullet between his eyes. He deserved it, after what he did to all those girls. To my Addie. If you kill my granddaughter, you’ll be lucky if it only takes two days to die. Now, lower the knife, and I’ll make it quick and easy.”

“Go to hell.” Collin was trying to affect bravery, when in reality, he was scared shitless. He didn’t want to die a slow and painful death, but he couldn’t just roll over and accept his fate, either. There had to be a way out. All he needed was time to think. Time he didn’t have.

Then it came to him. He would kill the girl then turn the knife on himself before Franklin could reach him. He would die sooner than he’d hoped, but at least it would be fast and by his own hand. There was no way he was going to let Franklin Cartwright kill him like he had his father. He could take his beloved granddaughter and his power at the same time.

Collin had never once considered suicide. In most cases, it was the coward’s way out. But in this situation, it would be an act of bravery. At least he’d gotten to hear his father’s killer confess what he’d done before he died. He strengthened his grip on the knife and readied himself for the end.

“Say goodbye to your pops, Mollie.” He closed his eyes and brought the knife up to the sweet spot just below her ear. He drew in a deep breath, and for the first time since he was a young boy, Collin prayed. Dear Father, forgive me for my…

The gunshot rang out and echoed loudly across the cement walls. Excruciating pain shot through Collin’s right shoulder as he dropped the knife and it fell to the floor with a loud clank. Collin’s knees gave way, and he dropped to the ground. His left hand flew to his right shoulder as he slumped against the wall. When he pulled his hand away, it was covered in bright red blood. His own blood.

Briefly disoriented, he looked around for Mollie. He found her cowering in the corner like a scared animal. His eyes went to Franklin, who was walking quickly over to his granddaughter. The redheaded young man was standing in the same spot by the stairs, looking like he was about to pass out.

“Marty! Get over here!” Franklin shouted from the corner. “Get these shackles off her, now!” The old man had his arms wrapped around Mollie, who was shivering and staring at Collin blankly. The boy named Marty rushed over to the corner and pulled some sort of kit out of his pocket, selected a specific tool, and worked on the locks with trembling hands.

As Collin sat there trying to process what had happened, The Vault spun around him. His stomach lurched, and he had to fight back the urge to vomit all over himself. His pulse pounded at his temples. The pain in his shoulder was immense, and he felt lightheaded. He realized he was likely going to bleed to death. The poetic justice wasn’t lost on Collin. This was the same place where he’d killed several young women over the course of two years as he practiced and waited for the perfect opportunity to take Mollie. The same place where he’d planned to kill her too.

But Mollie was now safe in her grandfather’s arms, and the redheaded boy finally freed her ankles from the chains. It was all over now. He was going to die slowly, but not painfully. Though his shoulder was throbbing horribly, he felt nothing but a strange sense of calmness. He’d heard before that when someone bleeds out, they just fall asleep. That didn’t sound so bad to Collin. Especially not considering what Franklin would have done to him if Mollie had died.

“Bruno!” Franklin shouted. “Get down here!”

Second later, a very large man with a bald head came clamoring down the steps. Franklin motioned him toward the corner, and the big man silently bent and scooped Mollie up into his arms. Franklin struggled to his feet, placing his hand against the wall to steady himself.

The lights were starting to fade. Everything was growing dark. It was almost here. Death. The endless sleep. And most of all, peace. Collin had lived a tormented life, thanks to Franklin Cartwright. He’d grown up without a father, been teased relentlessly in school, and lived a life of solitude as an adult.

He’d tried to fight his demons at first, but eventually realized he had a calling. That calling was vengeance. Collin had spent years dreaming of the day he’d finally get retribution for his father’s murder. He’d accepted the fact, years ago, that he would probably not live to be an old man. He truly believed he would one day avenge his father’s death, even if it cost him his life in the process. But now, here he was, dying on a cold cement floor, watching his dream fade away. It had all been for nothing.

At least now he would be at peace. His demons had been silenced, and his soul was at ease. No more suffering. No more internal torment. It was over. Collin closed his eyes and let the darkness take him.





Chapter 17




Mollie



As she sat shivering in the front passenger seat of her grandfather’s Cadillac, Mollie held her hands in front of the vents to warm them. She was still trying to process everything that had happened. It played in her mind like scenes from an old-fashioned slide show. The door to The Vault opening and moonlight spilling in. Feet clamoring down the steps. The tip of the knife digging into her throat. The loud bang that percussed throughout the dungeon.