Death Blow (17 page)

“Calm down, boy! Calm down.”

“I can’t believe you have to comfort me right now,” Barrett
said bitterly to Bill. “I killed your fucking son. I killed your son, Bill. You
should be beating the shit out of me. You should be wailing on me until I don’t
move anymore.

“Believe me, I thought about it.” Barrett knew the Sheriff
meant what he’d just said. “I—you killed my son, Barrett, you did, you killed
him, and I hate you for that, I fucking hate you for that, boy, but—I need to
forgive you. I need to forgive you as much as I can, because I need you—“ the
Sheriff swallowed hard. “I need you to get my daughter out of here, and you’re
the only one who can do it.” Barrett felt like collapsing, but the Sheriff held
him firmly. “Tell me you can do that for me, Barrett,” he pleaded, eyes burning
into Barrett’s. “Tell me you can save my daughter.”

“I—“ Barrett swallowed hard. “I can do that, Bill. I’ll do
it.”

“Good,” the Sheriff was all business now, a dazed focus
setting into his eyes. He pulled a thick envelope from his back pocket and held
it out to Barrett. “I managed to get this all pulled together this morning.”
Barrett took it and opened the flap. Inside was a thick fold of papers and two
brand new IDs, one with his picture and one with Lila’s.

“Bill…” Barrett guessed what this was but couldn’t believe
this was happening to him.

“I had to call in every favor I ever had in my entire life,
but those are complete and legit, and they’ll get the two of you outta this
godforsaken town and into a better life, one where those bastards can’t even
find you.”

“How do we—“

“You have to convince her. Tonight. You all need to be
headed out of Belle Chasse before the sun goes down.”

“She’ll never agree to it, Bill, she’ll never—“ The Sheriff
grabbed him hard again.

“If you all aren’t gone by tonight, I’m coming back here and
killing you myself, Barrett.” He stared into Barrett’s eyes, deep and hard. “I’ve
got the FBI heading to the Club around sundown to hopefully bust the joint, but
there’s no telling what the syndicate could do before then, or after even. So
tell her whatever you need to tell her, but get her out of here.” He let go of
Barrett, checked his watch, and headed for the door. “I don’t know a damn thing
about you, boy,” he said with his back to Barrett, “but I’m trusting you with
the only thing I got left in this world that I give a damn about. I wired you
nigh all my life’s savings, so she’s taken care of for awhile at least—“

“Bill, I got—“ Barrett went to confess how much money he’d
won last night, but his voice caught in his throat, and he couldn’t finish the
sentence. “What do you want me to tell her?” he asked quietly.

The Sheriff opened the door. “
If
you ever tell her
the story, Barrett, you just tell her that I loved her so much, and I wish I’d
gotten a chance to show her that.”

Bill walked out of Barrett’s house, closing the door behind
him.

Lila was sliding a top on, freshly showered, when she heard
the rumble of a motorcycle engine. It could only be one person, but she
couldn’t believe why he’d be coming to her house, or how he’d found out where
it was. She left her bedroom and headed to the back stairs, coming out of the
door just as he pulled into the driveway. He ripped off his helmet and rushed
towards her.

“Barrett, what’s going on?” she cried, immediately terrified
at the look on his face. He bounded up the steps, encircled her with his arms,
and kissed her powerfully.

“Lila,” he said when they’d finally parted. “This is the
absolute worst time I could possibly say this, okay? I know that, I fucking
know that. But,” his hands found her face, touching it gently as he stared into
her eyes, “I love you, Lila. I know we don’t know each other that well, I know
I’m fucking asshole, but
I love you
, and I need you to believe me when I
say that.”

Lila’s eyes welled up. She laid her hands on top of his and
kissed him again. “I love you, too,” she said quietly. “I almost said it this
morning, right before I left, but I held back. I wasn’t sure if it was too
soon…” she trailed off. Barrett’s face lit up, and he lifted her and held her
against him tightly. She took in his scent. He was her Barrett now.

“I love you!” Barrett said happily, loudly now. “I fucking
love you, Lila Collins.” She giggled and he spun around once before setting her
on the ground.

“But what did you mean about this being the worst time?” she
followed up. His face darkened.

“Is your dad home?”

“No, it was really weird, he went out—to drink, I assume—but
he said he wasn’t going to wait for them to come get him. What could he have
meant by that, Barrett?” Barrett pulled her by the hand back into her kitchen,
shutting the door behind them.

“I think I know who he might’ve been talking about. Lila,
listen to me—Lyle and Cassandra? They run a fucking crime syndicate, okay?” The
words hit her like a Mack truck that she should’ve seen coming for miles. Of
course they did. She was an idiot.

“The fight rings…” she whispered.

“Yeah, and gambling—probably where your dad knows them from—but
it’s more than that. They do some nasty shit on the side. I don’t even know all
the details about it, but…it’s bad, Lila, it’s real bad.” Barrett looked at her
intensely. “They’ve got a hit out on me, Lila.” Her stomach bottomed out and
sounds disappeared for a moment.

“Wh—what?” She was stunned. The last 24 hours felt like a
nightmare.

“Thankfully it was after you left, but they sent two lackeys
to my house to—“ Barrett gulped—in his mind, because he was lying, he had to;
in Lila’s, because he was scared—“and, well, thankfully they tried to come at
me from both entrances. That was the only thing that gave me enough time to
deal with them both. I knocked the guy out at the front door, and choked the
guy at the back door, just until he passed out, I didn’t…” Barrett trailed off.
He couldn’t say it, especially not as a falsehood, when he’d really killed a
man—Lila’s brother, at that—last night. “They’ll be looking for me in no time.”

 “Yeah but…will they think to come here?” She panicked.

“I don’t know. That’s what I’m saying, Lila: I need to go
right now.”

The words echoed off the kitchen walls, bouncing back into
Lila’s ears and chilling her to her core. “How? How can you go right now? How
can you manage that?”

“Fuck, I’m just leaving. I put the money in my saddlebags,
that’ll be more than enough for a good, long while. I know a guy back in
Missouri who can get me a hook-up with new identities, I called him on the way
here and I can take care of all that on the road.” He’d decided to lie about
the identities too, keep the Sheriff out of it for now. He wasn’t sure if the
story would hold up. He didn’t really have time to worry about it right now.

Suddenly, she knew what choice was in front of her.

“I’ll go. I’ll go with you.” Barrett’s face melted with
relief. She put her hands on his cheeks, staring into his eyes. She was crazy.
This was crazy. Her life had gone from nothing to too much in so little time,
but here she was. She loved Barrett. Jackson was dead. There wasn’t much in
Belle Chasse to keep her here. She would go, she had to—if Barrett was going,
she had to.

Barrett kissed her. “I was hoping you’d say that. Grab
whatever you can fit in a backpack and—“

“I don’t need anything,” she said, breathless. “Wait! Yes,
one thing.” She ran back into her bedroom and tore into her jewelry box,
finding the gold arrow necklace and putting it on. She took one last glimpse
around her bedroom and the things she’d called her own. She wasn’t sure that
she’d miss any of it.

Back in the kitchen, Barrett was standing, waiting for her.

“Wait, question.” Barrett’s blood ran cold at her words, and
he waited for a split second of deep agony before she asked, “How’d you get my
address?”

He had to think fast. “Raechelle,” he lied.

Thankfully, mercifully, Lila’s face broke into a grin. “That
bitch,” she muttered jokingly. “First she gave you my phone number, then she
gave you my address.”

“Little did she know I was stealing you away, into the
sunset.” Barrett cocked an eyebrow at her. “Speaking of phone numbers, leave
your cell phone here. I ditched mine on the drive, don’t want them tracking
us.” Lila nodded, taking hers out of her pocket and setting it on the table.

“We’re really about to do this,” she breathed.

“We really are.” Barrett reached out a hand to her. She
crossed to him and took it, lacing her fingers through his, both of them lost
in each other for a brief moment. Then, Barrett pulled her out the door, down
the steps, and onto the back of his bike. He gave her the helmet again. Lila
glanced at her childhood home—place of so many miseries for her—just before she
slid her head into its musky darkness, and Barrett jolted his bike to life, and
they sped off towards a westbound highway.

“They cleared out. Someone must have tipped them off that we
were coming.” The FBI agent scribbled something on a pad of paper. Bill slumped
against a bar stool, his head in his hands. The agent came over to him, patting
him on the back. “Don’t worry, Sheriff, all’s not lost. We can nail those
bastards yet.”

“Sure thing,” Bill said, not really hearing or seeing
anything. He’d blown it. His once chance to put that motherfucker away, and
he’d blown it. If the syndicate had known about him going to the FBI, had time
to clear out Club Malevolence and leave
not a single trace
of its
existence, then the Sheriff knew what was coming his way, too.

The FBI had taken over, sweeping for what little traces they
could find, so Bill didn’t need to be there anymore. He conversed with the
agents he needed to, laid out plans of action with the head of the
investigation, and headed back up to the top floor of the parking garage. More
agents were sweeping up there. He combed his way through them to his squad car,
got in, and headed home. He could still run, he guessed, but what was the
point? He was too old for it now. He tried to call his brother on the
drive—they hadn’t kept in great touch, but Bill thought he should call before
the letter he’d written in a hurry last night and sent this morning made its
way from Belle Chasse to Nashville, where Derek lived now. Derek didn’t answer.

“Hey, little brother. Just callin’ to say—because we hadn’t
talked in awhile. Hope you and the missus are doing well. I, uh, I sent you
something in the mail, something important. With my luck the Postal Service’ll
lose it, but…I hope it makes it to you, Derek. I really hope it does. I love
you. Well, bye.” He hung up his cell phone as he turned into his driveway. He
turned the car off and rested against the seat, breathing in the silence.
Finally, he clicked the door open and hoisted himself out, slamming it shut as
he walked up to his house. He got his keys out and unlocked his front door. The
sun was beginning to set, burning red into his eyes as he turned to close the
door behind him.

“Welcome home, sweetheart,” a female voice cooed behind him.
He swiveled quickly, drawing his gun. Cassandra and Lyle sat, side by side, on
his couch.

“Thought we might pay our old friend Bill a visit,’ Lyle
said coolly, despite having Bill’s pistol trained on him. “Tried to call the
Feds! Damn, boy. Lot a’ hassle for us, shuttin’ down the club on such short
notice.”

“Tsk, tsk,” Cassandra smacked. “And now, all the trouble of
startin’ a new one! You’re really gonna keep us busy, Bill.”

“You’re both scum,” he growled, cocking his gun. The faces
of Jackson and Lila flashed before him as he fingered the trigger.

From around the corner, Kurt appeared, too quickly for Bill
to turn in time. He grabbed the Sheriff’s head with both hands and, like he was
flicking a bug off a picnic blanket, snapped the Sheriff’s neck, killing him
instantly.

Eight hours later, in a grungy Motel 6 off I-10, Barrett and
Lila made love. Tonight, it was sedate, passionate, both reveling in the act,
enjoying the other to the fullest extent. There were no bells, no whistles: it
was enough just to be together, enough to have each other, enough to press
together, achingly slow, until their bodies took over and forced them to
finish. Afterwards they laid, tightly entwined, unwilling to part even a
fraction of an inch.

“You love me,” Lila beamed at Barrett. He laughed softly and
nuzzled her nose.

“I do.” He kissed her. “You love me.” He kissed her again.
She wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I do,” she murmured. She looked into his eyes. “Do you
think we’re safe?”

“I know we are. I’ll make sure they never find us, Lila.” He
pulled away slightly to look at her intensely. “I promise you, I swear it on my
life: they’re never going to get to us.”

She believed him. Oh god, she believed him. She pushed her
mouth to his, wanting to fill him with the love she had for him, the trust she
had in him. A lot of bad things had happened in her life, and even more of them
had happened in the last day—but, for maybe the first time in her life, Lila
could see the other side, and it looked beautiful. What was a name, what was a
hometown, what was any of it, as long as she had this incredible man at her
side, who needed her just as much as she needed him. She’d never known that,
the exchange of need; it’d had always been a one-way street for her, and not in
her direction. She’d never needed anything in her life, and that opened up
inside her like a flower, and made her grow.

“We’re going to get to California and buy a house, and start
a life, and I’m going to take care of you like only a psychopath can.” He
cocked his eyebrow at her, flashed that wolfish grin, and kissed her.

“I never did come up with a nickname for you,” Lila
whispered.

“I’m about to get a permanent nickname, and that’ll be
enough. You can call me Barrett when we’re getting down and dirty.” She laughed
loudly, and Barrett felt happiness and relief wash over him. If he could keep
her laughing like that, everything would be okay. They’d be all right. He hoped
the Sheriff could sense that he’d done his part, gotten Lila out of there. He
didn’t think the syndicate would come after them anyway—they’d never intended
to, and Barrett didn’t believe they’d waste their time on small fish and chump
change. Things would be okay.

Lila was gazing at him lovingly, and for a split second,
Jackson’s face flashed before his eyes. Things would only be okay if Lila never
found out the truth about Jackson. Was that the price he had to pay now? Would
Barrett always have to keep that buried, far and away from the woman he wanted
to share everything with? In theory, it seemed like a small price to pay for
making a clean start and living a good life. But, in practice, Barrett’s gut
already told him it wouldn’t be quite so easy for him to keep that secret.

# # #

THE END