Open Wounds (Harbour Bay #2)(40)

Michael swallowed, trying to dislodge the large lump in his throat that threatened to choke him, his mouth suddenly as dry as a cotton ball. Liquid fear ran cold through him, chilling him from the inside out.

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Coleani?”

He hoped the old man wouldn’t hear the quiver in his voice. He ruthlessly pushed his nerves aside and held his head high to meet his eyes. His heart almost gave out at the unforgiving stare he received.

Coleani sat back in his chair and regarded him while he fidgeted under the scrutiny. “You messed up, Mikey,” the older man told him, disappointment in his voice. “Now I have the cops coming to the restaurant asking me questions.”

A shiver raced down his spine as if someone had just walked over his grave. He fought the second shiver the image evoked.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Coleani, I am. I didn’t expect them—”

Coleani held up a hand, signalling silence. “You must now answer for your mistakes, Mikey. I will not bail you out of this. You must pay.”

He let out a deep breath. He would gladly go to the cops and tell them his part in Kevin and Carl’s murders, just so long as they protected him from Coleani.

“I’ll do anything you want. I’ll surrender to the cops. I’ll confess and accept my punishment. I swear I won’t utter one word about you,” he promised. Twenty years in prison would surely be better than certain death. Maybe Coleani would be lenient, but he reminded himself if there was one thing that couldn’t be associated with him, it was leniency.

Coleani regarded him coldly, a look that could turn grown men to stone. Michael lost control of his bladder, feeling the warm liquid running down his leg and smelled the ammonia wafting up to his nose. Tears burned in his eyes and for once he knew true heart-stopping fear.

He barely had time to react when caught movement out the corner of his eye. He half turned towards the man who’d just entered the office when the trigger was squeezed and nothing but darkness followed.

***

The body fell to the floor, dead weight. A neat round hole in the forehead. Blood and brain matter had splashed across the plastic sheet in a macabre pattern. Wayne Burton stood staring down at the body with distaste as he holstered his weapon.

“Well done, Wayne,” Coleani praised him. “Now get that disappointment out of my sight.”

Wayne nodded, surveying the damage he’d just caused before bending over and wrapping the plastic sheet around the body. He had done this before, so many times that he barely had to think about it, the actions merely second nature.

He had work to do tonight, and there was plenty of darkness left before the sun came up. Plenty of time to get rid of the body. He lifted it over his shoulder like a sack of flour, stopping only when he reached his car. He opened the trunk and placed the trash inside before driving to the local lookout. He dropped the body into the harbour without a second thought or a twinge of guilt.

The kid had failed Coleani, and that was unacceptable. He was lucky to have gotten off easy, and the kid never saw it coming.

As Wayne waited for the body to get swallowed up by the water, he thought about what Coleani had told him before the kid had shown up. Kellie Munroe was alive and stirring up trouble. Years ago, he hadn’t bothered to check the newspapers for details on the teen’s death. There had been no need to because she should’ve died. It was certainly not for lack of trying on his part.

But she was nothing if not resilient. He had watched her from afar all those years ago. Nothing brought her down. No matter what life threw at her, she’d just soldiered on and persevered. Wayne remembered how hard she’d fought.

What kind of woman was she today? Full of fire and self-importance, he assumed, just like twelve years ago. A slow one-sided smile crossed his face. He would enjoy seeing her again. Like a fine wine, she would only improve with age.

A slow burn of anticipation spread throughout his body at the possibilities and he hardened in a painful rush. She’d always had that power over him, even as a teenager. He had often lain awake at night, wondering what it would be like to have her. His dreams had been nothing like reality.

He remembered every detail of that night. How she’d fought him until he’d finally overpowered her. She had no idea how the fight had his blood burning hotly in his veins, making him want her all the more. He still couldn’t believe he’d missed. She should be dead. But he wasn’t concerned. His freedom was proof he’d defeated her. Anticipation ignited a blaze inside him. He would see her again, and he looked forward to it. He’d never been able to recreate that fire, and knew she was the ingredient that made it so fine.

As a young man, he’d crushed on the blonde angel, fantasised about being with her, for her to look at him and see him. But that was all it would ever be—pure fantasy. She couldn’t appreciate his kind. When Coleani had ordered her to be put down, he’d been overjoyed.

To taste her again would be bittersweet.

This time, he would finish the job he’d started twelve years ago.

He would make sure she died this time.

Satisfaction filled him, knowing he had a second chance, and he would take the memory of her to his grave. He reminisced over her futile struggles beneath him and grinned savagely. She would fight him harder this time, and the warrior in him revelled at the idea of taming her.

Soon, my dear, I will be with you again. But first I’ll let you wonder when and where I might show myself.