Redemption (Book 3) The Fixer Series (16 page)

Alexi and I took a seat across from Mandy and ordered our food.  I don't think he was quite accustomed to American food, let alone Mexican food, just yet.

"I know, Mandy.  He is a keeper, that's for sure."

I got up and excused myself, "I need to use the restroom, I'll be right back."

My conversation with Mandy wasn't like it had once been.  I use to be at ease talking with her about things, but so much had changed.  I had changed.  I didn't know what to say
, anymore.  It's as if my words were stuck and I could no longer convey what I was thinking or feeling.  I felt socially retarded. 

I
now only felt comfortable around people in my tight, little circle.  That couldn't be good. How was I going to interact with my peers when I went back to work?  I was beginning to understand what it was that Dylan was concerned about all along.  I had regressed, while everyone else had grown and moved along.  Dylan understood, because he understood me.  Just as he always had. 

I sat in the stall, contemplating how I could get out of this meeting.  This should have been a fun time for me, but it ended up being a reminder of where I'd been.  I pulled my phone out of my pocket and unlocked the keypad. 

Missing you.  I love you. ~ Brooke

I waited for a response, but I didn't expect that I'd get one right away.  I knew Dylan was busy in meetings all day, but I needed to just hear him say... 

My phone chimed.

Princess
, is everything okay? ~ Dylan

It's fine.  Just missing my husband. ~ Brooke

Where's Alexi?  Isn't he supposed to be at lunch with you and Mandy? ~ Dylan

Yes, don't worry, he's here.  He and Mandy are in the restaurant talking.  ~ Brooke

And, where are you, Brooke? ~ Dylan

Promise not to laugh? ~ Brooke

I'm not laughing, as a matter of fact, I'm kind of pissed. ~ Dylan

Oh, knock it off.  I'm fine.  I'm in the bathroom.  Do you really expect him to come into the bathroom with me? ~ Brooke

Whatever it takes! I'm not going to lose you again. ~ Dylan

You're overreacting, you know that?  But I still love you
, anyway. ~ Brooke

I love you, too.  I have to get back to work, so if you need anything, CALL ME! ~ Dylan

OK ~ Brooke

I pushed my phone
back into my pocket, washed my hands and joined Mandy and Alexi.  My food had been delivered, but I wasn't hungry.  My nerves had kicked into high gear. I felt queasy, knowing what I was about to face within the next couple of hours. 

"Is everything ok
ay, Brooke?" Mandy asked. 

"I'm good.  Just not feeling well, that's all."

"I'm sorry, maybe we should do this another time when you're feeling a little bit better.  Alexi and I were just talking about maybe going out on a double date with you and Dylan, sometime.  You know?  So we can get to know each other a little better.  What do you think?"

"That sounds nice.  Let me talk to
Dylan about it and see what he has open."

"That would be great!  
The four of us would have so much fun.  I was thinking, since you're not feeling well, if you want to leave, I can drive Alexi back to Dylan's after lunch.  That way, you don't have to stick around here."

Alexi's eyes grew big.  "No!" he said, shaking his head.  "It's nothing personal, Ms.
Sommers, but I don't think Mr. Prescott would like it if I let his wife go home on her own."

"Same Dylan, eh
, Brooke?  He's still having his goons babysit you?"

"Not funny, Mandy.  You know how he worries, and after everything that's happened, can you blame him?"

"No, I guess I can't.  Can you imagine what he's gonna be like when you two have kids?"

I suddenly felt very sad at the mention of kids.  I hadn't told her about the baby, so I couldn't expect her to understand, but her words hurt. 

"I'm sure he'll be a great dad, Mandy.  He'll do whatever it takes to care for his family just as any father would."

I looked over at Alexi,
"We should go.  I'm really not feeling well.  Mandy, it's been great seeing you.  We'll have to do this again, soon."

I paid for our lunch, then stood, placing a kiss on Mandy's cheek.  "Take care, Mandy, I'll be in touch."

We walked out the door and left.  I told Alexi that once we were home, I was going to lay down for a couple of hours, and asked him to relay the message to Tristan, as well.  He agreed, and I headed to my room to prepare for war. 

It was only one o'clock in the afternoon, and I was already feeling exhausted from the emotional baggage of the day.  I quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, before heading to the garage.  I took another look at my car, wondering if I should take it or the truck to throw everyone off.  I knew Dylan hadn't opened my letter yet, because when I texted him, his reaction was still calm.  Once he read what I had to say, he'd be in full panic mode.   I needed to move quick
ly, before he suspected anything. 

I opted to go with the truck for several reasons.
  The main reason being that Dylan and Tristan would never suspect that'd I take it.  And, where I was going, a sports car would be impractical and stand-out like a sore thumb.  I grabbed a hammer from the toolbox sitting against the wall, and looked under the back driver's side just above the tire.  The little, black device was live, tracking the whereabouts of the vehicle.  I took the hammer and hit it, until it was in smashed into tiny, little pieces.  I was free to go, without the worry of anyone finding me. 

The truck was much bigger than what I was use
d to driving, but where I was going, it didn't matter.  I pulled into the gas station just off the highway, and placed a long, blonde wig on my head in case there were security cameras in the area taking my picture.  It was a damn good disguise, and one I was grateful for as I entered the store to pay for my gas with cash. 

I had thought about this day for a long time, thinking it would never come.  Now was my chance, and I couldn't fuck it up or things would never be the same.  Not for me, Dylan...no one! 

I filled the gas can and carefully placed it in the back of the truck, paying extra attention to not spill any.  Emotions overtook me as I sat with the truck, idling.  I was scared, terrified, actually, knowing that what I was about to do went against everything I'd ever been taught.  As I sat there, I realized it wasn't prison that I was afraid of, because I had been living there pretty much my whole life.  No, I was afraid of letting the one person in this world that loved me, down. 

I wiped a tear that threatened to fall, buckled my seat beat and headed out east.  If everything went as planned, I'd be home just in time for dinner. 

Spring was in full swing out on the eastern plains of Colorado.  Nothing really ever changed out here, except the weather.  Barren land
was what always greeted you when you were driving on these dirt roads.  I remembered them well from the many trips that we'd made out here to the farm when I was a kid.  I hated it then and I hated it, now.  Like I said, some things never changed. 

Two hours
was all it took if you wanted to disappear from civilization.  You could do whatever you wanted, since your closest neighbor lived ten miles away from you.  I should know.  I walked it one time and calculated my steps.  Ten fucking miles.  It often made me wonder what was going on in those houses, why the need to live so far away from everyone.  What secrets did people hide, when no one was looking? 

If you really wanted to know, you really didn't have to look too far.  I
wasn't saying that every house out there had shady shit going on in it.  There were a lot of damn good people that lived on farms in the boonies, but what I was saying was that
I
always questioned, why the need to live so fucking far away from your neighbors?  Why not two miles?  Why did it have to be ten? 

The closer I got, the ang
rier I became, until I saw the house.  I panicked at first, thinking I should turn the truck around and go home.  But then I remembered, if I didn't do this, I'd never have peace in my life.  I didn't need to write Thomas a letter, asking him why he did all of those terrible things to me.  No.  He wasn't worthy of my time or energy, which is why I wrote to Dylan, instead. 

Shrinks.  They think they have all the answers to everyone's problems.  I guess that 's what had caught me off guard the most when Dr. Marks had given me that assignment.  I understood the reasoning
behind his request, but it felt like I was being victimized all over again, and I had vowed that'd I never be a victim, again. 

My heart was pounding in my chest as I pulled into the driveway.  The house looked the same, but was in need in repairs.  It occurred to me that no one had probably been out to the place in years. 
 

  I pulled the gas can out of the back and walked around the house, making sure to saturate and splash the gas on the ground close to the house.  I wasn't there to talk or play games, I was there to kill.  To end the life of a person that had made me feel worthless pretty much my entire life.  I went back to the truck and grabbed the gun from my purse, carefully tucking it behind my back. 

I wiggled the door handle on the front door, and walked in.  I could see a man sitting in a chair from the entryway of the house.  As I walked a little further in, I saw Thomas sitting at the table drinking a bottle of Vodka.  Some things never changed. 

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he spat at me.

"I'm here to kill you," I answered
feeling determined.

He laughed and evil throaty laugh.  "You've never been able to kill a fucking thing in your life.  You
ain't gonna kill me."

I remained calm.  "Well
, you see, Thomas, that's where you're wrong.  You don't really know me at all, but I know all about you."

"Go fuck yourself, Brooke.  Shouldn't you be at home taking care of that rich, little asshole you married?"

"I should be, but much like me, his father was a piece of shit too!  And, guess what?  He killed his father, just like I'm going to kill you."

"I knew his old man, you know?  He was a good man."

"I know all about your relationship with him and the Governor.  None of you were, or are good men."

"You think you're so smart with your college education and all your money, but you don't know shit!"

"I know that you three assholes had me kidnapped, brainwashed and sold into slavery.  Yeah, Thomas, I know all about you.  And once I'm done taking care of you, no one will ever find you or miss you.  I'll be doing the world a favor."

 
He scoffed at me, "What do you think you're gonna kill me with?  Your bare hands?  You're a stupid, little girl, Brooke.  Go home."

"I'm not going anywhere, until I finish what I've come to do."

I pulled the gun out from behind my back, and aimed it straight at his head as my hands shook from fear and anger. 

Thomas
laughed at me.  "That gun isn't even loaded," he said, taunting me. 

I pulled the trigger and missed, my hands sh
aking more.  A tear escaped my eye as the smell of gunpowder scented the air. 
Oh God, I
can't believe I missed.  Oh fuck, if I don't kill him, he's going to kill me, instead,
I thought, as my stomach began to churn. 
No, I can't get sick now...I have kill him, for all of our sakes. 
 

"I told you
, you couldn't shoot me.  You're a lousy fucking shot, you stupid bitch!"

I brought the gun up and aimed at his head again. 
I gently placed my finger on the trigger, and squeezed.  The gun fired loudly, jerking me back and gunpowder, once again filled the air, but this time I didn't miss.  I watched him slowly fall out of his chair and onto the floor.  I'd hit him square in the forehead.  There was blood and brain matter splattered all over the kitchen.  It was the most disgusting thing I'd ever seen.  I didn't bother checking to see if he was dead, because I knew he was. 

I was in shock, crying hysterically because I had just killed a man, a man that I'd once loved and trusted.  It took everything I had to pull myself together, because I had to ensure that no one would ever find out what
I'd done.  I let hate and anger consume me, so I could finish the job.