Broken (18 page)

--

“Thank God, he’s alive,” Randy glanced up at the ceiling. “Thank you, God, Thank you!”

13

Cold, yellow sunlight slanted across the cemetery, stretching the shadows of the dozen police officers dressed in suits, dresses, and coats as funeral attendees. Among them mingled four uniformed officers, an obvious visible presence that they were sure would signal Randy that this was a genuine affair rather than something staged. There were four other officers placed with sniper rifles at cardinal points around the cemetery, just in case something went wrong.

Joe Blatt and Reverend Highmore were the only two civilians present at this gathering, and as Jase and Pete scanned the group and the cemetery grounds, seemed to be the most relaxed as well. On everyone else’s face tension was unmistakably written.

--

In the periphery of his vision, Sandy continued to pace the family room of the Custon home. Every so often she would stop and look at her eldest son, the expressions on her face ranging from pitiful to furious. It’d been almost thirty-six hours since he’d said a word to his mother, and just over twelve since he’d spoken at all, his most recent words having been a sobbing apology to his unconscious baby brother in the intensive care unit after a successful surgery.

The county sheriff’s department wanted to take Sandy into custody, but without Eric conscious to press charges against her, and Mike never having witnessed any of the abuses, there was, for the moment, nothing that could be done.

County also provided a couple officers to stay with them as a protective measure, relatively certain that Randy may well come to finally exact revenge against the woman he’d been killing without success over and over again for the last year.

Frowning, he rose from the arm of the couch to tower over her. “Just what the hell would you like me to say, mother? That it’s alright? That everything’s fine? That this is a bad dream? Or do you want to hear that it’s not your fault? You’re NOT to blame, well guess what, you ARE!” he shouted.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that!” she hissed.

“Or what?” he demanded, sneering into her face. “You’ll take me over your knee? Stick my face up your skirt? THEY’RE YOUR SONS!” he raged, partly fueled by his sense of failure as a big brother,
I should have known, somehow, I should have known.
“How could you do that to them? Wasn’t it enough to have half the town whispering behind their hands about what a SLUT you are?” He watched her eyes bulge wide, but couldn’t stem the tide of his fury and helplessness. “I’m more ashamed to be your
son
than I am to be Randy’s brother,” he spat before turning back toward the arm of the couch.

A spear of pressure altered the air through the family room just before the officer in the hallway crumpled, splattering a shower of blood onto the tile.

Glass shattered and Sandy screamed. Mike turned to the patio door, stunned perfectly still as his younger brother strode over the shimmering, crunchy carpet and into the room. He perched on the edge of the desk where each of the boys could remember having done their homework at times.

“What? Please
what,
Mike? Pretty please with sugar on it? Please don’t do this? Please don’t MAKE me do this? Please don’t make ERIC do this? Or US do this? Please… please
what,
Mike?”

The older man shook his head, the numbness of his shock finally wearing off, “Jesus, Randy, I’m so sorry. I should’ve known. You could have told me, you
should
have told me, or dad, or … someone,” he wept.

Randy’s head cocked to the side with half his mouth turning up in a smirk, “Riiiiight, ‘cause that would have made it all better.”

“Baby, please,” Sandy sniffled reaching for him.

Randy pressed his finger to his lips, his gun held in his lap now, like a pet, as he shook his head, looking directly into Sandy’s eyes, “Shhh. Don’t talk.” He turned his attention back to Mike, “How’s dad and Eric?”

“Do you really give a shit?” Mike asked angrily.

A chuckle bubbled up through the younger man’s throat, “Mike, I’m holding a gun loaded with hollow points. The man I’m trying to protect from one of THEM,” he motioned to Sandy, “doesn’t seem to understand the danger he’s in. Not to mention that I had to shank the one person…” he stopped and swallowed hard, the pain visible in his eyes a complete contradiction from his actions. “I had to shank my own baby brother in the gut, and I can’t get into the hospital to see him, or my father,” he pushed off the desk, stalking toward them, the anger in his voice growing with each step. “The last few days haven’t exactly been stellar, and now my big brother is questioning my sincerity? What the hell is wrong with you, man? Are you STUPID?”

In the blink of an eye, he had the muzzle of the gun pressed into Sandy’s breastbone, pushing her into Mike. “Now,” he smiled, “HOW THE FUCK IS MY LITTLE BROTHER?!”

“F, f, fine.” Mike stammered, stunned by the quick turnaround and potential for murderous violence he suddenly, and for the first time, really believed Randy capable of. “Well, not fine, but he WILL be.”

“Good,” Randy sighed, “and dad?”

“He should make a full recovery, too,” Mike nodded, sensing the younger man coming back down a bit. “Ran, what’re you gonna do? You have to think rationally here; this isn’t gonna end well if you don’t let it stop,” he half pleaded.

The motion was so casual that Mike couldn’t have anticipated it if he’d wanted to. One minute Sandy was pressing backward into him, with Randy’s gun poking into her chest, and the next, the gun was poking into HIS chest and Sandy was captive in Randy’s embrace, held by a hand on her throat.

“But I’m just starting to have fun. You don’t know how it feels to finally just,” he shook his head, “let it all go.”

He craned his neck over Sandy’s shoulder, his lips skimming her ear, “Hey, ma, remember when Eric and I were kids?” he asked with a kiss to her neck.

“Remember how you taught us all about the terrible ecstasy of anticipation?” his fingers splayed against her throat, his lips grasped her earlobe seductively.

He grinned as she shuddered.
Yeah, I still remember the signs; I still know how much this turns you on. How quickly would you get off if Mike watched? Someone new to the mix, would it thrill you more than if it was me or Eric?
He wondered, watching his big brother’s face twist, disgusted by her reaction.

“Remember how you’d sit there and watch? How you’d watch your baby suck my dick like it was an ice cream cone? Remember the first time you showed him how to fuck me? How about the first time I fucked him, huh? Remember that?” He taunted sliding the gun between her legs while he beat his hips against her backside, giving his big brother a show he’d never seen before.

“Remember the teasing,” he whispered, sliding his arm over her chest, “the tweaks,” he palmed her breast, her breath shuddering while she began to pant and he beat his hips twice more, “The slow, soft, strokes,” he taunted.

“Yes!” she shouted trembling. “Yes I remember! God, I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry! It was never supposed to hurt,” she pleaded, crying openly even as Randy burst out laughing.

“Never supposed to hurt?” he clutched her tightly. “Raped with the Porn Star Supreme so that every fucking move I made, made me BLEED for a week!”

“I had to baby, you threatened to tell on mommy,” she whimpered.

He began to shake with fury as his arms tightened around her, returning the gun between her legs, she grunted and, it seemed of their own will, her hips ground against the weapon. “Hey, Mike, you ever been in the crawl space?” he asked.

“Or what?” he sneered into Sandy’s ear, then looked at Mike. “What? Don’t tell me you never took the chains down? Are they still there? Do you still have the collar and the leash too? What if I chained YOU up down there in the dark, alone, naked with nothing but spiders to keep you company, huh? What if I left you down there for a whole weekend breathing in your own piss and shit with only a couple cups of water a day? HUH?” he snarled, gaining some satisfaction as the color washed out of Mike’s face and the older man stumbled back down to the arm of the couch.

“You really think I had friends that I’d spend the weekend with, Mikey? Huh? Did you really buy that?” he asked, no longer needing to hold her by the throat. His lips on her neck were a leash she couldn’t break. His free hand inside her top, and the piece of steel he continued to work between her legs kept her tethered to him.

“Remember the fuck train, mom?” he whispered against her neck. “I do you, Eric does me and you finger fuck him? Huh? Good times, wasn’t it?” he felt her nod breathlessly against his neck. “Hey, Mike, you want some? You wanna know what it’s like to get sucked off by your own mother? She does it real good, y’know, a little teeth, a little tickle for your prostate…” he grazed her neck with his teeth, “But sorry, mom, not even you can compare to Eric. His love is perfect, yours
always
had a price tag.”

“Oh my God,” Mike leaned down, wondering what his little brother would do if he passed out, “Randy.” he begged tearfully.

With a shake of his head, knowing Sandy was only seconds away from orgasm, he tossed her at his older brother, pointing the gun at her again as her hands slid between her legs. “Here’s a little anticipatory tension for you. I’m not done with you yet,” he assured her, then met eyes with Mike. “Tell Eric I love him, tell him I never stopped.”

Dumbfounded and speechless, Mike nodded. He caught the tail of an idea just as Randy reached the edge of the patio, “Randy! Eric would never want you to do this, you know that. If you really love him, you’ll stop and turn yourself in! Please!”

Shaking his head, Randy continued out into the back yard, tucking his gun into the shoulder holster under the jumpsuit, “Told him, can’t.”

--

Just inside the gates to the Glen Falls Cemetery, Jase and Pete stood with Captain Zegler and detectives Paulson and Rumsfeld. There wasn’t a happy face among them.

“Paulson,” Pete shook his head, trying to lighten the mood, “is there a single western or cop movie you
haven’t
seen?”

“I’m sure there’s a few, Baski,” Paulson played along with their familiar banter while Cap answered his phone, “but then, they probably weren’t worth seeing in the first place.”

“Uh huh, yeah,” Cap looked at the men around him, “he just left the Custon home. Both of the officers stationed there are dead. According to the oldest son, it sounded like he had some kind of plan or might be coming back for Mrs. Custon.” He turned his attention back to the phone, “Alright, we’ll meet you there in a few minutes, we’re just leaving the cemetery now.” He listened and nodded, “Yeah, he read it as a setup and used it to his advantage.”

“But he didn’t kill her or Mike?” Jase asked as Cap slipped the phone back into his pocket and they headed toward their respective cars.

“No.”

“Let’s go see what we can see,” Pete shouldered his partner toward the SUV.

--

Sandy nodded tearfully and wheeled away from her eldest son, keeping her cell phone out of reach, “Yes, baby, I will, I promise, mommy promises,” she sniffed, snapping the device closed, then sliding it into her pants pocket before turning to face Mike.

“You CAN’T!” Mike stormed, shaking his head.

“I
have
to Michael, he wants this to stop,” she tried to explain.

“Mom, you CAN’T! You can’t trust him! For FUCK’S sake, he threatened to KILL YOU!” he lunged, wrapping his arms around Sandy, pinning hers to her body as she kicked and writhed and screamed.

“He wants to
stop
! Michael he wants to put an end to this, he’s my baby, I have to!” she cried desperately.

“God, you stupid idiot! He’s trying to get you out of the house! He’s trying to lure you away, don’t you understand that? Were you just TOTALLY ABSENT five minutes ago?!” he stormed, “Wait till the police get here, tell them where he said to meet him,” he started.