On My Way To You (Broken Love Duet 2)
“Let’s talk about this, brother,” he calls out. He still didn’t row the window down, but it shattered so there’s nothing to hinder me from hearing him.
“Did you give Callie time to talk about things before you raped her, Mitch?” I ask, and remarkably, my voice sounds calm—and cold as steel.
“Reed, you know how women are. Callie—”
“Did you give her time to beg when you were stabbing her?”
“I—”
“How about when you were punching her over and over? Did you give her time then, brother?” I spit the words out. Mitch doesn’t say anything this time. Maybe he knows that no matter what words leave his mouth, it’s just going to make the situation worse for him. “Did you gave her time to talk when you told her you were going to let her bleed out and die?” I yell.
“Reed, this is not you. This is not who you are. You can’t kill your own brother,” Mitch cries, clearly nervous and more than a little scared. Good. He should be scared. I want him as terrified as Callie was when he left her for dead. Hell, or even when he tried to burn her alive in her car. When Katie told me all of the details that Callie had given her, I got physically ill.
Mitch must be stopped at all costs
“I’m not the man I used to be, Mitch, and that’s on you,” I respond, starting the truck again.
“Reed, you don’t want to do this,” Mitch says. He’s trying desperately to get the door open.
“Tick tock, Mitch. Tick tock,” I growl. I don’t know if he can hear me, but I really hope he does. Next, I lay on the gas, and I ram his truck. I lay on the gas until the already damaged guard rail gives way. Then, I back up and repeat the same thing. I do it over and over until finally, Mitch and his truck go careening over the damaged guardrail and lurches over a large embankment. Only then do I get out. I let my lights remain on as I look over the hill. Mitch’s truck has rolled down the ridge and is currently lying on its top. Relief hits me when I see fire begin to pop up around the wreck. I would have gone over the hill to finish the job, but this is more than fitting. I watch as flames begin to leap to life around the wreckage. I keep watching until it’s engulfed and the gasoline in the tank causes an explosion. I just keep watching until I’m convinced there’s no way he could survive. Once that’s done, I hop into my truck, turn around and head toward Macon.
When I’m almost back, I call Mr. Johnson and tell him it’s done. He’ll understand because we talked about it earlier.
“Meet me at my house,” he says, and I hang up without responding, pressing down on the gas pedal.
Maybe I should have regrets. Hell, a decent man would probably himself in. Instead, I am going back to Macon feeling lighter than I have in years.
When I get to Mr. Johnson’s, he’s already outside waiting for me. He steps off the porch and opens the garage door, letting me pull inside. He flips the lights on and closes the door behind us. I get out and for a moment we do nothing but survey the damage silently.
“Do you need to go to Callie?” he asks, not looking at me. Somehow, that makes all of this easier.
“No. Jeff and Katie are staying there tonight with her.”
“Then let’s get this done. The damage isn’t as bad as I figured it would be.”
“The push bar came in handy,” I answer.
“There’s still no way we can get it painted by morning, but we can have it ready. If lady luck is on our side, we can have it painted by tomorrow evening and at least make sure your ass is covered.
“You don’t have to get involved in this,” I tell him, wanting to give him an out.
“If it was Eloise that had been done like Callie, I would have done the same thing you did. I reckon what you did tonight was hard on you, but if you ask me what I think about it all, I’m going to tell you that evil needs to be stopped, and that boy was pure evil.”
I nod.
“Let’s get moving. We need to protect you. Your brother has claimed enough of your life. That needs to end tonight.”
I nod again, my throat so tight that I’m not sure I know how to respond. Then, Mr. Johnson goes and makes it worse. He puts his hand on my shoulder and slaps me on the back.
“Eloise and I were never able to have children. You and Callie were as close as we could come. You deserved better than the man you had for a father but—”