Haven Bound

29. Austin

29

Austin

It’s been a few days since Chelsea and I moved into the penthouse suite at the Elysian, which makes it easier to have Zack keep an eye on her while I’m working. She knows that part of his job as head of security is keeping a close watch on the suites where our employees and rescued victims reside.

Chelsea is working today despite my repeated requests for her to stay in the hotel. I was pretty sure that she was going to smack me after about the sixth time that I asked, but I can’t help wanting her to be safe. Especially on a day like today when I know I won’t be as easy to get ahold of. I've been able to hang around the bakery with her the last few days, but today, that's not an option.

My father made it clear that my procrastination has to come to an end. I should have handled this target as soon as my father called the other day to inform me that there had been another report filed, but first, I needed to know that Chelsea was safe. I just hope when this is all over, I will have some time to spend with Chelsea before I have to leave again. That is if she still wants me.

She thanked me for being here to end a man’s life.

Actually fucking thanked me.

It’s time to kill Daniel Witters .

Which is why I find myself driving one of the Phoenix Legion’s SUV’s towards Rivercrest. Each of the Legion’s vehicles are fully loaded with bullet-proof windows, tracking, cameras, and an assortment of weapons hidden beneath the seats. Not that I anticipate needing much today.

If Zack’s sleuthing produced accurate information, and it always does, I should arrive at Dan’s address with about fifteen minutes to spare before he comes home. The satellite images showed that his small single-story home is located on the outskirts of Rivercrest, almost on the border of what would otherwise be considered Sutton Ridge. The property is surrounded by large trees that provide a barrier of privacy.

There are numerous reasons why this man deserves to be erased from existence flashing through my mind, and I would have gladly ended him for any one of them. But when I learned of the connection between this target and the woman who holds my heart in the palm of her hands, the reasons for why he needs to die became personal.

Absorbed in my thoughts, I almost miss the dirt access road that disappears into the trees and will take me to the border of Dan’s property. Turning at the last minute, I carefully drive down the path as far as I can while still remaining out of sight from the house. Walking a mile on foot wasn’t part of the plan, but I make quick work of it and use the time to get my head on straight for what I’m about to do.

I pause when the house finally comes into view, careful to remain in the shadows when Dan’s old blue pickup truck pulls into the dirt loop-around driveway. The black tactical gear I’m wearing keeps me hidden as Dan climbs out of the truck. He slams the door behind him. The sound echoes through the trees as he stalks towards the house. The wooden steps leading up to the front porch creak beneath his weight. I make a mental note of where to step if I decide to enter through the front door.

Once he’s inside, I emerge from the shadows and quietly walk around the side to see if there’s an alternate entrance. Large trash bins line the side of the house near the back porch, each of them overflowing with empty beer cans and various glass liquor bottles.

The home is an old craftsman style that’s in desperate need of some maintenance, but none of that will matter after today. Stepping lightly up the wooden steps to the back door, I find the door unlocked and turn the handle slowly, pushing the door open and stepping inside. I’m immediately assaulted by the scent of cigarette smoke and do my best not to cough as I struggle to breathe through the smell. I pull my Glock from the holster at my hip and extend my arm out in front of me with it in hand, stepping silently through the house as I use my other hand to slide a steel blade from my belt.

The laugh track of an old-school sitcom fills the otherwise quiet space. Following the sound and dim television lighting into the living room, I find Dan sitting on a worn-out couch with his legs spread wide as he drinks a tall can of beer, a lit cigarette balanced between his fingers. I could easily kill him right now and be on my way back to Haven Beach and back to Chelsea within minutes, but this man first needs to know why I'm here to kill him.

He deserves to feel even a small hint of the pain and fear that he’s caused other people, and I intend to give that to him. Stepping forward, my presence is almost given away by the creak of the old wooden floors beneath my feet, but I have the barrel of my gun pressed to the back of his head and my blade to his throat in an instant.

“Don’t fucking move,” I growl, applying pressure so that the gun is pressing firmly against his skull while my blade threatens to tear through the skin of his throat. He drops the can of beer, and the cigarette falls from between his lips, landing on the couch as he inhales sharply. He raises his hands into the air until they are in line with his shoulders.

“Who the hell are you?” he stammers, a slight tremble to his hands as he holds them up.

“You’re not in a fucking position to be asking questions,” I seethe, carefully maneuvering around the couch until I’m standing in front of him with the barrel of the gun now pressed against his forehead.

His eyes glimmer with fear, and a scowl smears across his face. “I think you’ve got the wrong guy,” he mumbles, unable to erase the terror from his voice.

Ignoring his comment, I lower my voice and say, “I don’t fucking think so. Does the name Margaret ring a bell? What about the name Chelsea?” I watch his eyes widen, pupils dilating in fear as those two names sink in. His breaths are coming in short quick bursts.

After today, Daniel Witters won’t be able to harm anybody else.

I begin to trail the steel blade across his collarbone, the fabric of his shirt tearing away to reveal trickles of blood rising to the surface. “I bet you thought you’d get away with it. I bet you thought that you could continue living your disgusting pathetic life despite the horrible things you’ve done, despite the agony you’ve caused,” I say. His eyes fall shut, his breath shuddering as he visibly fights back a groan of pain when I drag my blade down his chest toward his navel. I apply enough pressure for the tip of the blade to pierce his skin but not enough to cause fatal damage. Not yet anyway.

The way his body is tensed tells me that he wishes he could fight against the hold that I have him in. He’s not the kind of man who’s used to being overpowered. My voice lowers an octave, my mind sinking further into the darkness that allows me to kill without remorse. “That girl that you treated as though she was an inconvenience…” I drag my blade back up his torso, and he finally lets loose a howl of fear and agony as his blood begins to coat the blade.

“Fuck you,” he spits through the pain, dragging out each letter.

Ignoring him, I continue, “That girl you treated as though she was worthless is the woman that I cherish most in this world. She alone is my own personal haven, and I refuse to let a piece of shit like you ever tear her down again.”

His breaths are coming in rapid bursts, his chest heaving as he groans and screams and pants through the pain. “She is everything to me,” I growl, pulling the steel blade away and positioning my finger over the gun’s trigger with the barrel still pressed firmly to his forehead. “And now you’re nothing.” I fire the gun before he has a chance to release his next breath, his head flying backward as the bullet pierces his skull with ease, a crimson spray decorating the room.

A heavy weight lifts from my shoulders as his lifeless body lays spread out on the couch before me. But I can’t enjoy this, not yet. Wanting to get out of here and back to my girl as fast as possible, I move to the kitchen and quickly locate Dan’s liquor collection. Grabbing several bottles and removing the caps, I pour the alcohol over his body, the couch, and all over the floor before shattering several other bottles against the wall .

I stand at the front door and take in the scene in front of me for a moment, the lit cigarette that Dan dropped on the floor already ablaze causing flames to creep over the fabric of the couch with the alcohol’s help. I reach into my pocket and pull out a small pack of matches, striking one and tossing it aimlessly into the liquor-coated room. Flames immediately roar to life behind me as I make my way down the weathered wooden porch steps and back toward the SUV.

Walking back through the heavily wooded area to get to the vehicle gives me a chance to call Zack. He answers on the first ring. “Ready?” he asks, knowing exactly why I’m calling.

“Go ahead and call it in,” I tell him, disconnecting the call after he responds with a curt “Done”. His connections at the local fire and police departments are aware of the situation and are currently on standby waiting for his call. They must be quick to answer too because I can hear sirens in the distance as soon as I make it back to the vehicle. They’ll make sure the fire doesn’t spread beyond the house, and it will be marked as an accident. Dan’s life will simply look like collateral damage.

My phone automatically connects to the SUV’s Bluetooth system as I slide in behind the wheel, a smirk tugging at my lips as the song “Bodies” by Drowning Pool begins to filter through the speakers. The only thing I care about now is taking a shower to clean the filth off of my body and then holding Chelsea in my arms.