Montana Falls (Red Diamonds #5)

Chapter Fourteen

T he tank rumbled beneath me; the vibrations coursing through my arms as I gripped the controls, trying to keep the damn thing steady. Lincoln sat in the same seat beneath me, smirking in the small mirror opposite, like he was about to say something annoying. I could feel it coming. I just knew my bunny would find a way to pretend that I wasn’t doing an expert job driving my pretty new toy.

“Careful, brat,” he teased, bracing himself as we smashed through some rusted metal sheeting. The noise was deafening—metal screeching and bending as we tore through it like it was made of paper. “You trying to kill us before we even get to John? That’s what it feels like.”

I shot him a look over my shoulder, one hand firmly on the controls as the tank lurched forward. “It’s not my fault they left this thing to be here for a decade to rust. Maybe if it wasn’t so ancient and silly like you, it’d be easier to drive.”

“Or maybe,” he said, his grin widening, “it’s just your terrible driving and you should have let me take control on my own so we don’t run over Price or something.”

“Shut up,” I snorted, pressing harder on the accelerator. “I would never hit any of you. Well, I would hit you . But only when we play that game of chicken you owe me and you lost.”

The tank surged forward, smashing over rubble and debris like it was nothing. The power of it was exhilarating and I honestly felt like a god. The best sort of god that was all evil and violent, and who nothing could stop. Not the jagged rocks, not the rusted pipes, not even the crumbling remains that were scattered across the ground. We rolled over everything, flattening it like it wasn’t even there.

A minute inside the tank certified my thoughts about buying one.

A few minutes in it, and I was sure I’d end up using one as my daily vehicle of choice.

Lincoln was still laughing as time passed, and my skills became more apparent. “You know, you’re supposed to avoid the obstacles, not hit every single one.”

“I’m aiming for them, actually,” I shot back, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Adds to the fun if I pretend you are a brick and murder you, bunny.”

He snorted, and I could see him adjusting the turret controls on the dashboard, preparing for when we’d get close enough to John to shoot his weaselly brains out.

Which was going to be sooner than expected.

“Wait, I see something…” The ruins stretched out ahead of us like a maze, but suddenly John’s silhouette darted through the shadows of a wall, just ahead. He was running, scrambling up the side of a half-collapsed building like a rat fleeing a sinking ship.

“Where?!” Lincoln tensed up beneath me.

“To the left!” I replied, my pulse spiking as I slammed the tank forward, the treads grinding over the uneven ground, sending dust and debris flying everywhere.

Lincoln squinted, leaning forward to get a better look. “He’s climbing up that scaffolding on that big wall at the back. You think we can get closer? I don’t want to blow it all up and accidentally murder my brother or something.”

“Okay, bunny,” I grinned, adjusting the controls to navigate through a tight cluster of rocks and metal. The tank rumbled as it crunched over the obstacles, and I could see John glancing back toward me, looking the tiniest bit apprehensive.

I wasn’t surprised it took the addition of a tank for that bastard to fear me.

“Turn a bit to the left, then stay still; I think I can shoot near him. But prepare to run when I do.” Lincoln ordered, and I did as he asked, even if I pouted at the idea of getting out of my new toy.

A second later, an explosion echoed through the air, shaking the ground and sending chunks of the wall flying. John yelped loud enough for me to hear, losing his grip on the scaffolding and stumbling. He barely managed to catch himself on a lower ledge, but that was fine.

I didn’t want him to die yet. I wanted to play with him first.

“Let’s go hunting for an O’Malley.” I laughed to Lincoln.

We both jumped out of the tank, the cold, damp air hitting me as my boots hit the ground. My heart was still pounding with adrenaline, but it wasn’t just from the chase. It was the thrill of the hunt, the knowledge that we were finally going to catch John and that he truly had nowhere else to go.

He was all alone. His gang was nowhere in sight. His wife was dead. His sister had abandoned him for her shitty stalker games.

He’d underestimated me again, enough so that he hadn’t noticed my trap and now he was stuck in it.

Lincoln and I hurried, our footsteps loud against the rubble. John saw us coming and did his best to run, but he didn’t have anywhere left to go. He tried to duck behind another section of what was left of the precarious scaffolding, but we were faster, cutting him off from both sides when we began our climb.

I hated climbing, but for this? It was worth it. The workout I’d been part of today was going to be the best one I ever had. Even with the added harsh rain and dull, dark sky.

“Why are you running, John?” I called, my voice like a song as my hair was quickly plastered to my face. “You’re not afraid of dying, are you?”

“I don’t fear you.” He scoffed as he vanished behind a piece of tarp, and I hurried to gain purchase on a piece of the wooden platform until I could pull myself upright and stand.

“Why not? I’m the one ruining your life.”

There was a creak behind me and I span on my heel as John lunged at me, swinging wildly with desperation. I dodged to the side, feeling the wind from his fist, as it barely missed my face.

We repeated the fight we’d had not so long ago, only this time he didn’t have the upper hand. I did. And I made real good fucking use of it.

Before I grabbed my gun, I moved in, throwing a punch at his side. He grunted in pain but managed to twist out of the way for just a moment. He swung at me again, and this time his fist connected, hitting me in the shoulder and sending a sharp pain shooting through my arm. But I didn’t back down. The rush of adrenaline drowned out the pain, and I grabbed him by the collar, shoving him against the nearest section of crumbling brick, hard enough that I hoped he saw stars.

“You fuckin’ bitch.” He blinked through his daze, and I knew I only had a second to act.

Huffing, I pulled my gun out of the back of my jeans, finger aiming for the trigger, ready to blow his brains out and laugh…

Only the ground beneath us shifted, a low rumble that sent a shiver down my spine. I knew the ruins were old, unstable, and the recent explosions had probably weakened the structure even more. A part of me registered that I’d fucked up the scaffolding we fought on with my bombs and fighting, too.

I hadn’t really thought about it collapsing, though.

Before I could react, the ground gave way beneath my feet, crumbling in an instant. I felt the world tilt, my stomach dropping as I slipped, and John came with me, my gun going flying. The splintered edge of the ruined plank cracked even further, and I was falling faster than I could stop, the air rushing past me. Panic – a mild bout of disgust at myself - surged through me, but before I could scream, I felt a hand clamp around my wrist.

Lincoln.

His grip was iron-tight as he stopped me from plummeting to my doom like a fool and hauled me back up with a curse.

“I’ve got you, princess.” He promised, pulling me up onto solid ground. Or as solid as another wooden plank could be.

“Fuck, bunny.” My heart was racing, my breath coming in quick gasps as I scrambled to my feet, my hands shaking. “Have you got a kink for heroism?”

“Only when it’s for you.” He kissed me hard and fast, before nudging his chin over the edge of our platform. “I couldn’t let my girl die in such a terrible Telenovela way. You’d never forgive me for it.”

I looked down to where he pointed, my stomach flipping as I saw John’s messed up form. He’d gone tumbling down through the scaffolding, his body looking like it had been bounced off every sharp object in sight until he’d hit the ground with a sickening thud, his body nearly motionless among the rubble except for one tiny thing.

He’s landed on a piece of metal bar. Something from inside one of the broken walls.

Something that now protruded from his chest, making blood spurt out of him in bright splashes of red that should have made me far more spitefully happy than I felt.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence, the weight of what had just happened sinking in. Then Lincoln’s grip on me loosened, and I staggered back, still breathing hard and shaking.

“You okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” he asked, his voice rough but steady.

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just… just fine. Nothing hurts too bad.”

My voice sounded funny, and I had no idea why.

Lincoln glanced at me; his expression unreadable. “I’ll go down and check he’s dead, then. You get Caro’s cleaner’s here and then come follow; but be extra careful.”

I didn’t reply. Instead, I let out a long, shaky breath, the adrenaline finally starting to wear off. The thrill of the fight had been snatched away from me as quickly as the floor had, for one unchangeable reason.

The motherfucker had just taken the easy way out.

John had gone and died in a fucking accident and not when I brutally murdered him or after months of torture.

“He’s alive still!” Lincoln shouted, a second after he got to the body, and I hurried to peer down towards him, as I pulled my phone out to send a quick text to Caro that he instantly responded to.

“A lot or a little?” From where I stood, I couldn’t hear anything that wasn’t shouted. Not a single breath or whisper from either Linc or John. But I could see as Lincoln got closer, and pulled a knife out of his boot.

One with serrated edges and enough violence intended behind it that I felt just a smidgen better about things.

At least I did until John said something. I watched his mouth move, albeit slowly. I saw the way Lincoln’s entire body went stiff. And I watched the cruel smirk that slipped onto John’s face, right before he shuddered, taking his last breath.

It was really that simple. That quick. One second he was gasping, the next he was still and wide eyed. He was dead and I… I felt nothing. No sense of relief. No justice. Just nothing.

I’d wanted to torture him like how he had ordered his men to torture me and my mama. I wanted to make him hurt far more than I ever had. But I hadn’t. He was just… just dead. From a fucking fall . A lucky little thing for me. An accident for him. An altogether far too easy ending for such a monster.

I wanted to scream.

Instead, I forced myself to climb down the scaffolding carefully and made my face stop scowling as I jumped onto the ground, forcing down my irritation and concentrating on the fact the prick was still dead.

He was dead and dead was surely best, right?

“Lincoln.” I said his name with a frown as I caught him just standing there, staring at John’s dead body and not moving. “You okay?”

He flinched almost and hurried to turn around.

“I’m fine.”

“You sure?” I cocked my head at his odd tone. “What did John say to you? You look… you look funny.”

Lincoln shook his head, still staring with that strange look in his eyes and the weird vibe in his posture.

“Nothing you need to hear now. Just his usual insults and stuff.” He blew out a breath and came toward me, wrapping his arms around my body.

He pulled me closer, and I rested my head on his chest, letting the thunder of his heartbeat calm me as he held me tight.

“Promise?” Whatever nastiness had been spilled from a dead man’s tongue was no doubt pointless. Nonsense. Just a thing designed for him to leave one last mark of his cruelty in the world.

“I’m okay, princess. How can I not be? John’s dead.” Lincoln laughed without humor, his body vibrating against me. “That piece of shit is dead . Nothing else matters right now.”

He was right. John was dead.

We hurried to reunite with the rest of our family, all of us celebrating and happy. Soon enough Caro and his cleaner’s turned up, disposing of John and whatever evidence we left behind, as though he had never been there in the first place.

He would get fed to pigs. Or burned in a funeral home. Perhaps even chopped into little pieces and taken out to the middle of the ocean for a shark. Regardless of how it happened, it was over. John was dead.

As we headed back to the car together, we did nothing but celebrate and laugh at the undeniable fact our mission was going brilliantly. We had knocked another piece off our board – another dozen pieces, if you included the Vice King pawns, who would quickly fall apart without their evil leader. And now there was only one left. Only one piece left to take.

The O’Malley reign was about to come to an end any day now. I could feel it in my bones.

It was about fucking time.