Echo(93)

My hands tingle in fury as I listen to his admissions. I can’t even see straight as my desire to kill that piece of shit sparks to life. This man, my f*cking father-in-law, was yet another man who had a hand in my father’s death and the destruction of my life.

“Later, when Bennett was older and acquired his first production plant, his father convinced him to partner with me. We knew it would serve as a better cover for laundering the money. Bennett trusted me as a longtime family friend, took the advice of his father, and the rest is history, until you came along and f*cked everything up with your stupid charade.”

I sit in silence, trying with everything I have to control the anger exploding within me as I process what I’ve just heard, realizing that all of us are linked in one way or another. There was a time I was the one in control and able to manipulate people into my puppets, but I know now I was never in control because I never truly knew the cast of characters I lured my way into.

“But I will admit,” he continues, “I’m impressed with your efforts, even though you failed miserably.”

“Who says I failed? You’re stuck down here with me too. You’re not free.”

“I will be.”

I can’t contain my chuckle, and when it grows, Richard fumes, “What’s so funny?”

“You.”

“Do tell.”

“You’re so focused on yourself, that you’re shadowing the fact that, in a very twisted way, I won.”

He cocks back the hammer of his gun, the snick of the metal sounding when he does, and then points it straight at me, but he doesn’t intimidate me.

“Don’t you see?” I say in total control. “I want you to pull that trigger. So no matter what you do, I win.” I take a hard swallow before going on, telling him, “It was you. You’re right, I did get myself tangled up in something that was much bigger than me, but the root of everything, which I thought was Bennett, is actually you. And because of my stupid scheme, your family is now tainted in Bennett’s blood through your son, your whole cartel is falling apart, and your freedom depends on the money of a man who’d rather see me dead than alive.”

His eyes narrow in a murderous glare, but I don’t stop, adding, “And if you think you have him fooled by threatening to know about his involvement with Bennett’s murder, you’re wrong. If anyone is to be pegged for that crime, it’s you, the leader of one of the largest international gun trafficking rings, using Bennett as your cover.”

Richard pulls the gun away from my face, but doesn’t disengage the hammer.

“You’ve got it all figured out, don’t you?” he taunts. “You think you have me played, telling me you want to die to take the pleasure away from me? You say I can’t hurt you, but I think you’re lying.”

“Kill me or don’t kill me, I don’t care.”

“I think you do.”

I then wrap my hands around the barrel and place it back on my forehead, stating firmly, “I don’t.”

Agitation streaks in the lines of his face now that I’ve taken his bargaining chip away from him. He gains nothing from killing me, not even joy because he knows I won’t beg for my life.

Richard drags the gun down my face, along the bridge of my nose, over my lips, and then slips it into my mouth.

I knew my sanctuary would be in death, and I was ready to be released into the oasis I’d been longing for. But even though I was ready, it didn’t mask the fear of having a loaded gun with the hammer cocked inside my mouth. One slip and that chambered bullet would fire. I can still taste the steel of his pistol on my tongue if I think about it hard enough. Can still feel the way my heart ricocheted off my ribs. I had been close to death before, but it was always in my control. Not this time. This time I was on Richard’s watch. He would say when. He would be my executioner.

I remembered hearing the voices—my ballasts. Daddy, Pike, and even Carnegie, they were there with me while I rested on death’s lips, waiting for its kiss. Their words of courage to guide me from evil sang in my head like a melody of deliverance, but it wouldn’t be enough, and I was about to find out why.

Richard uses the gun to guide me down on my back while he pushes it into my mouth. With his free hand, he rips the buttons to my pants open, demanding, “Take them off. You’re not going to rob me from feeling gratified.”

Idiot.

He’s stupid to think that he can degrade me for his pleasure by f*cking me. I do as he instructs, kicking off my pants while he fumbles with his own. I don’t offer any fight when he shoves his pants down just far enough to pull out his dick. Nudging my legs open, he sits on his knees while holding himself in his hand and slapping it against my * a few times.