Make You Beg

“I don’t know, man,” Dax answers, getting out of his car parked next to mine. “My father called me and said he needed to see me.”

I frown. “Law was the one who messaged me.” Looking around, I add, “Where is Rellik?”

“He said he would meet us here.”

The sound of a blaring radio has us stopping to turn around and see Rellik’s car pull into the old gates and park by us in the middle of the field. He gets out and fixes his bow tie awkwardly. “Scout, may I speak to you for a second?”

I frown. “About what?”

He places his hands into his front pockets. “I just … need to talk to you about something.”

Dax sighs. “My dad is blowing up my cell.”

“Go ahead. We’ll be right there.” I wave him off, turning to walk toward Rellik. “What is it?”

HENLEY

At some point, I’ve fallen over onto my side to the nasty, bloodstained concrete floor. My eyes are closed, my breathing has slowed now that I’m able to breathe through my mouth since Law removed the tape. My chest still feels tight, though. That weight getting heavier and heavier.

“Wake her up,” Mr. Monroe calls out.

“Come on, doll.” I hear Law sigh as he grips my arm and moves me to sit up on my bruised knees once again. The pants I’m dressed in are stained from the blood that’s dripped from my face. Which is odd because last I remember, I was wearing my black evening gown. Law must have changed me.

“About time!” Mr. Monroe claps.

“Dad, what are we doing here this late?” I hear Dax ask, and fresh tears instantly prick my eyes.

“I have a gift for you.” Mr. Monroe slaps him on the back, and then I watch them both come into view as they enter the Graveyard.

It’s weird being here without anyone else. The voices echo in the atrium and large, open space. It’s has an eerie feel to it when a massive crowd isn’t gathered around like on fight nights.

“Dad?” Dax comes to a stop. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Giving you what you deserve.” He gestures to me. “Your revenge.” His face falls. “And not the kind you guys have been playing. Sex isn’t revenge, Dax. Haven’t I taught you that whores enjoy being fucked?”

“Dad … what?” He takes a step back, and I bite my lip to keep in a whimper at his betrayal. I don’t know how they did it, but he managed to kill Brenda and make it look like an accident. Then convince me that I was going crazy in the process. Dax looks at Law, who stands beside me. His stance wide and arms crossed over his chest, head held high and jaw sharp. He looks more like a bodyguard rather than a high school kid. “What the fuck are you doing, Law?” he yells.

“It’s time,” Law says.

“No!” Dax shouts, throwing up his hands. “I won’t …” He turns to face his dad. “What the fuck have you done?”

“What have I done?” he shouts in Dax’s face. “I have done everything for you. I have spent millions to keep you out of prison because of her!” He points at me. “Now you either get rid of her, or I’ll fucking do it.”

“I am not what she accused me of!” Dax screams back, making it somewhat believable. But I shove those feelings down. He did it! And there was proof. “I am not a rapist or a murderer.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “You’re right.” I go along with the show he’s putting on. My voice is rough, but it gets their attention.

Everyone turns to face me.

“Doll …” Law whisper-growls in warning so no one else can hear him.

I know. Don’t mention the paper. “You’re not those things. I’m so sorry,” I cry, the tears rolling down my face like waves.

“A little too late now,” his father snaps. “She has caused too much damage. Nothing she can say or do will get back what she put you through. This has to stop. And it won’t until she is no longer an issue.”

“Killing her isn’t the answer,” Dax argues.

“Do it,” I say.

All heads snap in my direction again.

Dax’s eyes sadden, but his jaw clenches. “No, Henley …”

“Shut up, doll.” Law growls under his breath once again.

“Do it!” I snap. I’m pretty sure I’m dying right here before their eyes. I’m having problems breathing. I have known what it feels like to be loved and to be hated. Honestly, they’re both just as brutal, leaving scars that will never heal.

“I’m not going to shoot you!” he shouts.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

VAN RELLIK

SCOUT LOOKS DOWN at his watch as I go on and on about the game the other night, trying to think of things to talk about because Law has me fucking biding his time. Why? I have no fucking clue. I always seem to be the last to know about anything.