Chapter 32

My fingers fumbledas I struggled to open the front door, freakin’ exhausted. I’d been working overtime at the factory for the last week, plus I had picked up extra shifts at the bar. Riley had been pissed, especially because he was making good money at the restaurant so I didn’t really need to. We already had most of next semester’s tuition saved up, and as long as Dad didn’t fuck us over again, we’d be okay.

But I still found myself saying yes every time I was asked to work an extra shift. Part of it was because it was ingrained in me not to turn down money. We might’ve been okay right now, but that could turn around at any fuckin’ second. We’d learned that lesson the hard way.

The bigger part was that the longer Mr. Chase was MIA, the more freaked out I became. We had that one amazing night that I’d always be grateful Ri gifted me with, but after that things had started to go downhill. That had been a much-needed break from reality, but when I’d woken up the next morning to yet another article exposing even more atrocities that Mr. Chase had done, I was back to square one. I couldn’t be alone. Whenever I was, I panicked until I either wanted to hurt myself or get so high I forgot all my issues.

Neither of those were good options, so instead I worked. And worked some more. Since our date, I’d barely seen Riley for more than a few hours, which I hated, but I couldn’t stop myself. I only saw Jay when he showed up at the bar. He’d been staying almost exclusively at Dakota’s house, and between that and our work schedules, it wasn’t as easy finding time with my best friend as it had been only a couple weeks ago.We did try to make sure no one was ever out alone though, and for the most part, it had worked. Today, though, Jay had picked up an extra shift and Ri was also working. Even Dakota was at the hospital. So I didn’t have a choice but to come home on my own.

I finally got the door open and was about to walk in when I felt a hand wrap around my bicep. I spun around, fist already up and swinging.

My first froze midair, like an invisible wall was in the way, and I was unable to move another inch forward as I came face-to-face with Mr. Chase.

The air whooshed out of my lungs as he bodied me into the door, something sharp pressed against my neck. A knife.

No. No. Fuck. No. This couldn’t be happening.

I stumbled inside and nearly lost my balance. Mr. Chase was right there. He held me in place and pushed the knife harder. He kicked the door shut before I could even begin to get my thoughts straight.

It was too much. The knife, the man. I fought to stay in the present, but it was too hard.

“She left me! She abandoned us! And you’re just flaunting it in my face, aren’t you? But I’ll make it better. You just stay still and I’ll cut this right off so she can’t haunt us anymore.”

“Give me the knife, Mr. Cooks. We both know you won’t use it.”

My hand shook as I held the bread knife I’d nicked from the cafeteria. “I’ll slit your fuckin’ throat. I swear I will! I won’t let you touch me no more! I’m fuckin’ done. Back the fuck off.”

“Language, Mr. Cooks. You know how I feel about you speaking like that when we’re together.”

“Shut up, you sick fuck.”

My eyes flew open as my thighs hit the back of the couch. Memories of Dad and Mr. Chase were blending together. I couldn’t tell what was now and what was the past. My arm that he wasn’t holding flung back as I tried to get some purchase. I needed something to keep me here in the present.

“Did you miss me so much, Mr. Cooks, that you had to come back and ruin my life?”

I swallowed bile, his words snapped me back to reality. What the fuck was I doing? I was younger than Mr. Chase and in way better shape. Why the fuck wasn’t I fighting back?

I spit in his face, and Mr. Chase recoiled in disgust. It was enough to bring my brain back into action, and I grabbed his wrist with the knife, and bent it away from my neck and until he screamed in pain. The blade crashed to the floor.

“I ruined your life?!” I bellowed, laughing at the ridiculousness. “Me? Fuck you! You ruined mine when I was fuckin’ 12 years old!”

Mr. Chase tsked. His eyes were wild, and I knew he’d fuckin’ lost it. He was always so in control, always one step ahead of everyone else. That was terrifying enough, but this—this was somehow worse.

“Always with the language, Mr. Cooks. Remember, good boys who get help from me use polite words.”

Mr. Chase’s hand closed around my mouth, and it was so tight I could barely breathe. I tried to scream, to move, but I couldn’t. My eyes filled with tears, but I was still trapped.

“Remember, only good boys who use polite language get help from me. You want Riley to have a place to live, don’t you?”

I nodded around his hand as best I could. He lay down on top of me. It hurt so bad, but I stopped fighting, and even when he finally let go, I didn’t curse.

Mr. Chase’s hand wrapped around my throat now. I grabbed his wrist, digging into the muscle until he loosened his grip. But I didn’t get far when I felt something jab into my stomach. A gun. A motherfucking gun. Why the fuck did he start with a knife if he had a gun? I tried to get a good look, and I was pretty sure there was a silencer. That was . . . bad. Not that I expected anyone in this shithole to call the cops, but maybe with gunshots, someone would at least hear something? But now . . .

“Don’t move. You will pay for what you did to me. You could have left things alone. You and your good-for-nothing brother. The photos were supposed to be a warning to keep your mouth shut. Instead, you twisted it. Did you know the FBI is looking for me? Can you imagine? What have I ever done to deserve that? You couldn’t just be grateful for all the help I’ve given you? You would’ve been dead without me! Your precious little Riley would have never survived!”

His words pissed me the fuck off, but I couldn’t fuckin’ move. The gun was jammed into my stomach, and I was pretty sure I heard him click the safety off. Either way, I didn’t trust it. Motherfucker. I tried to think, to figure out how to get far enough away to fight back and get the gun or something, but then Mr. Chase reached out and stroked my cheek, and all resistance slipped away as I went numb.

Riley. I had to fight for Riley. I couldn’t let Mr. Chase get to him. I had to protect Riley.

Mr. Chase’s thumb caressed my lip. My stomach churned. I was really fuckin’ glad I hadn’t eaten since lunch because I’d definitely have thrown it up by now. I could taste his sweat. He was always so sweaty . . .

My eyes slammed shut. What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I fuckin’ fight back? Even if he shot me, it would be better than takin’ this. It would be worth it.

But then I thought of Riley. He’d be the one to find me dead on the floor. I would be leaving him alone. I couldn’t do that to him. I’d promised.

C’mon, Becks, fight. Fight for me.

Riley’s voice was so clear in my head, it felt like he was right there, and it was the motivation I needed. Mr. Chase pushed his thumb into my mouth, and I fuckin’ bit down.

“You little . . .” The gun moved. I grabbed his wrist with both my hands, and shoved it out of the way just as it went off.

We both froze, and I stared down. But there was nothing. The bullet had missed. Mr. Chase was still holding the gun, but before he could raise it again, I lowered myself and bodied him. It was a move I’d learned from dealing with my dad. We crashed to the floor. He gasped as the air left his lungs.

I had pure muscle on the guy, but he had to weigh at least 80 pounds more than me, and he used that to his advantage. He punched me quickly but hard in the side, and then something, maybe the gun, hit me right over the head.

I saw fuckin’ stars. But as he went to hit me with the gun again, I managed to block him. I was stronger and had the advantage. There was a shooting pain that ran up my wrist as it came into contact with the metal, but it was better than my fuckin’ head. I must’ve hit his fingers because he lost his grip and the weapon tumbled a couple of feet away from us.

For a split second, my attention was caught on the gun. That was all Mr. Chase needed. His meaty fist hit my temple on the other side, and then he was over me, his hands around my neck. I tried to reach for them, but he slammed my head against the floor. Fuck. Now there were two of him.

“I’ve never wanted to kill someone before, but I’m going to enjoy you taking your last breath. You ruined everything for me. So I’m going to ruin you. And then, when I’m done, I’m going to do the same thing to your precious little Riley. He’ll be so lost, he’ll be grateful for everything I give him.”

“Keep your fuckin’ hands off him!” I tried to scream, but Mr. Chase kept tightenin’ his hold on my hands. I started to kick, buck, scratch, fuckin’ anything, but he slammed my head again and just breathin’ became too hard.

“Get the fuck off him!”

Riley. No. He shouldn’t be here right now. He needed to stay away.

“B-butterfly,” I tried to choke out.

“This has nothing to do with you, little boy. Leave if you know what’s good for you and let the grown-ups talk.”

There was a click, and then Mr. Chase’s hands slipped from my throat.

It was too late, though, and the darkness won.

Riley

Something was off. I couldn’t explain how I knew, but before I even stepped into the apartment building, I could tell something was wrong. It could have just been paranoia. It was the first time in weeks both Becks and I had gone home alone. I’d tried calling him to tell him I was getting out early so maybe we could walk together, but he hadn’t answered. The illegally parked Tesla blocking the entrance didn’t help my nerves though. It could’ve been a delivery driver or something, but it didn’t feel like it. Cars like that didn’t stop in our neighborhood.

I pushed open the building door, since no one ever bothered to lock it, and sprinted up the stairs.

Panting, I made it up to our floor in record time. One of our neighbors leaned against the wall, smoking, but his eyes were glued to our door.

“Think your old man must’ve come by again. Shit’s gettin’ wild in there.”

I didn’t spare the asshole a second glance. As soon as I reached the door, I could hear the sounds of a struggle. And the door was unlocked.

When I got inside and saw Mr. Chase sitting on top of my brother and choking the life out of him, I lost all rational thought. There was one thing I could think of and it was to save Beckett.

The gun was like a fuckin’ beacon. I had tunnel vision. The words SAVE BECKETT. PROTECT YOUR BECKS ran on repeat. It was the only thing I could hear. I picked up the gun before either of them realized I had.

Growing up, Becks made sure I knew self-defense, including the basics on how to shoot a gun. It was fancier than anything Becks had ever taught me to shoot, and it had a fuckin’ silencer, but it didn’t matter. I knew what to do.

I thought I said something, but I didn’t know what. Mr. Chase turned to me, his lips in a sneer. I squinted. He was saying words, but I couldn’t hear them over the sound of my screams inside my head. Beckett spoke too, and I tried so fuckin’ hard to understand him, but he looked so pale, his eyes practically bulging out of his head. He was trying to fight back, of course he was, but he was too weak now. I needed to protect him.

My finger tightened around the trigger.

There was a grunt, then maybe a louder shout, and then Mr. Chase was falling. But Becks’s eyes were closing.

No. No. No.

My mouth opened. I thought I screamed, but if any sound came out, I couldn’t hear it. The gun fell out of my hand.

I scrambled forward and fell to my knees in front of Becks. There was still this fog around me, that made it feel like this was all a movie. He wasn’t moving. Why wasn’t Becks moving? Had I shot him?

No, no, no, no.

I saw Mr. Chase move out of the corner of my eye. He tried to reach for something, but I couldn’t let him. He wouldn’t touch my Becks ever again!

I tackled him from behind, my hand closed around whatever he was looking for. Something hard. I spun around and aimed right for Mr. Chase’s throat.

Beckett

My head spun as I tried to open my eyes, and it felt like someone was takin’ a hammer to my skull. What the hell had happened?

I tried to sit up, but it felt like I had something weighing my legs down, that made it hard to move. I tried to scrub my face, but my throbbin’ wrist made it hard.

Then I heard it. Well, two things really. The first was this really sickening squelching sound that I didn’t want to think too hard about. The other was cryin’. Riley. That was just un-fucking-acceptable.

Once the stars cleared enough to make sense of the situation, I kinda wished they hadn’t. I couldn’t move because Mr. Chase’s body was lying across my lower legs. Blood was everywhere.

I couldn’t even focus on that because Riley now stood over Mr. Chase, while he sobbed uncontrollably with a knife clutched in both hands as he stabbed the bastard over and over and over. He was covered in blood. Fuck, I probably was too, but I had to get to Riley.

It was harder than it should’ve been to get out from under Mr. Chase, but I somehow managed to do it. The world was spinning and bile rose in my throat, but I ignored it. I crawled toward Riley.

“Riley.” My voice was scratchy, like I’d been screaming. He didn’t respond, just kept stabbing.

“Butterfly. Butterfly, it’s okay. He’s dead. You can stop.”

He froze but didn’t let go of the knife. He wasn’t seeing’ anything, completely lost in his head.

I ignored the disgusting fuckin’ body and crawled so I was directly in front of my butterfly. That meant I was directly under the knife, but it was a chance I was willing to take.

Riley looked like he’d come straight out of a horror movie. His face was completely coated in blood, and it somehow made those bright blue eyes even more obvious. His fingers twitched, but I didn’t move.

“Riley, it’s me, sweetheart. It’s Beckett. I’m here. I’m safe. You did it. You saved me. You killed him.”

For a while, there was nothing. I didn’t dare reach out to touch him even if I wanted to. All I could hear was his sobs and the sound of my beating heart.

Riley blinked. “B-b-beckett?” He hiccupped.

“Yeah, butterfly, it’s me.”

“You’re alive?”

I snorted at that. “Yeah, I’m alive.”

His eyes cleared, but before I could grab him or block him from what he’d done, he found Mr. Chase’s body. The knife clattered to ground, just missing me, and the Riley twisted away before he started to puke everywhere.

I pocketed the knife, just in fuckin’ case, before going to Riley. I couldn’t fuckin’ stop myself. I had to touch him. I held him from behind until he had nothing left in him and the sobs started again. I spun him around so he was facing me, and he buried his head in my chest. I’d never held him so fuckin’ close. His whole body was shaking, and I was afraid he was having a seizure.

“Shhh, it’s okay. You’re okay, butterfly. You did so fuckin’ good. Thank you. You saved me. I love you. I love you so much. My good, perfect butterfly. I love you. You’re okay.”

I kept holding him tight, and muttered soft words as I petted his hair. He wouldn’t calm down. Why wouldn’t he calm down? I knew enough to know we had to fuckin’ move, but Riley was like dead weight on top of me, and I couldn’t get my muscles to function enough to go anywhere.

What were we gonna do?

It hit me as Riley finally passed out from sheer exhaustion on top of me. Luckily, my phone had managed to stay in my pocket through all the bullshit.

It took some work, but I got it out and luckily still had the number saved. I had no idea what time it was or if he was even in the country, but I had to try. If anyone knew what to do in this fucked situation, it would be him.

It was a fuckin’ miracle that he answered on the third ring. “Hello?” He sounded tired, like I’d woken him up, but I didn’t care. Please be in town or at least in the country. Fuckin’ please.

“Wesley, it’s Beckett. We need your help.”