It's A Crime (35 page)

“
Jonathan, don’t you remember me? I’m the one who survived the fire.” Cole struggled for the right words. “The fire you set in Philly. Manayunk.”

A
look of recognition slowly crept up Jonathan’s face.

Cole was
stalling, trying to keep Jonathan’s attention on him.

“Remember
the house fire.” Saying the words turned Cole’s stomach; his desire to kill grew in intensity. “Remember the family, the family that burned inside. They all died.” The memory slowly registered on Jonathan’s face. He remembered, all right. “They all died,” Cole repeated. “That was
my
family. My mother, my father and my eight-year-old brother.” Cole found it difficult to keep the venom from his voice. “They all died…but you didn’t get me. I’m alive. I’m here.”

Chapter 37

My tears flowed freely now...fear replaced with deep sorrow. The pictures…his family all dead. Jonathan killed them…I blinked rapidly, trying to eject the tears so I could focus. I looked at Cole, his anguish clear on his face.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah
…I know who you are. You’re that little fucking kid from the boys’ home. The one that fucking doctor babied.” The glassy look in Jonathan’s eyes vanished, replaced by darkness. “Now isn’t this nice? A family reunion.”

“So Jon, g
ot the balls to finish what you started? I’m sure as hell going to finish what I started.” Cole threw down a challenge. “Or are you all about murdering
girls?
” Cole goaded him like a bully in a schoolyard.

Jonathan’s eyes seared into Cole
’s. “Fuck you…I’m an artist. You can’t see that. You’re too fucking stupid to understand. You don’t know art.” Jonathan smiled. “I paint a portrait...using the blood of filthy whores.”

“Fuck the girls
, ‘sissy boy.’ I’m your unfinished work.” Cole had his attention, but Jonathan still held the razor dangerously close to Grace.

“
That’s got to make you angry, huh? That I fucking lived. Must have stuck in you all these years.” Cole focused on Jonathan, watching every twitch, every tick. He briefly looked out the corner of his eye at me. He didn’t know how badly I was hurt but couldn’t get me away with Jonathan on guard.

Jonathan’s face flushed.
When I looked up, saw that darkness, I closed my eyes. It was done. It was over. I was going to die here in this dank little shed. I peeked at my captor again—and the razor in his hand.

“
I
will
finish you but I need to finish this one first.” Jonathan turned his head back toward me. My eyes widened in fear, and I rocked my head back and forth feebly.

“
Johnny, know one thing, you Goddamned piece of shit—you are never going to leave this place. You will die here, screaming.”

A flicker of fear crossed Jonathan
’s face, contorting his features.

“Fuck you
.” Fear coated his voice. “If I die here, I’m taking her with me.” He lifted his hand, swinging the razor dangerously close to me.

“
No…You won’t. Because if you touch her, hurt her in any way, I will make you suffer so much more than the women you murdered. I will have you begging me to fucking end you.”

“
You don’t know shit…This fucking cunt,” he said pointing the razor he held far too close to me. I shuddered. “Our whore mother.” He gestured toward himself and me, the razor inches from my face. “She fucking threw me away, like trash, like I was garbage…” Jonathan’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “She kept this one...
fucking ice princess
.” A tormented chuckle emanated from his throat. “This cunt got what was mine. My
little
sister, here. You think you can cause me greater pain. Fuck you, jerk off.”

I
closed my eyes, the tears streaming down my face. What nightmare was this? Jonathan my brother—half-brother? He murdered Cole’s family. Also responsible for all those women murdered? The bile filled my mouth and my stomach heaved. I coughed, gagging against my scarf, which was tied tightly across my mouth.

“
Johnny, you haven’t felt pain...but you will.” I thought I heard Cole move closer toward me, but I was too afraid to open my eyes. “If you hurt her, you’ll be begging all the way to hell...Think about it, Johnny.”

“
JONATHAN! It’s Jonathan. Not Jon, not Johnny...Jonathan. You think I’m a fucking moron. You think I don’t know what you’re doing. You want me to leave this cunt alone, but that ain’t happening. No...no fucking way. She is mine. I will watch the life leave her.” he paused, “You can watch if you want, but step an inch closer and I’ll gut her first so it’s real painful. Sound good Grace?”

My eyes popped open.
He looked at me. A shudder shook my body. He was my brother? No wonder he hadn’t let me seduce him. Wait—Mother had another baby? I was so confused my head was spinning. I closed my eyes again and prayed for it to end…begging whatever higher power there was to spare Cole. He had suffered so much already.

Cole
scanned the room quickly, needing to knock Jonathan off his guard. Jonathan was too far gone. He was insane.

As Cole looked at
me, positioning himself to throw his body in front of me, sparing me Jonathan’s blade, a gunshot slammed into Jonathan, hitting him in the side. My ears rang from the concussion.

“What the fuck
…? What was that…” Confused, he grabbed his side with his free hand. Lifting it, seeing his blood.

Jonathan raised the razor
to cut me, and a low rumble vibrated in Cole’s chest, the sound, primitive, animalistic. He slammed into Jonathan, knocking into him. Jonathan panicked, bringing the razor down, burying it into Cole’s shoulder. Cole lifted his fist and pummeled Jonathan’s face. Hearing a crack incited Cole to lift his fist again. This time he connected with Jonathan’s jaw. He tried once more to get the razor out of Jonathan’s grip. Jonathan swiped his arm down, cutting a deep gash in Cole’s thigh.

Cole
reached behind himself, pulled a knife out of his belt and raised it above his head, bringing it down swiftly. Jonathan moved slightly and the knife buried deep into his shoulder. Cole pulled the knife out and plunged it down again, this time, lower, into Jonathan’s chest.

Jonathan
howled in pain. An audible rush of air escaped his lungs and he started convulsing. Cole kneeled on the arm holding the razor. He pulled it out of Jonathan’s hand and tossed it. It clanged loudly as it crashed into the bucket of the wheelbarrow.

Cole
kicked Jonathan’s limp body to the side further away from me. He quickly pulled the scarf from my mouth.

Abruptly
the police ran in, weapons drawn, followed by Cole’s team. They all stood in the tiny space looking around. The medics began attending to Jonathan, still alive, though barely.

“Are you
okay? Where are you hurt?” Cole asked me, rubbing the tears from my face. He held me close to him, rocking me. I started shaking, crying uncontrollably as the relief washed over me like a tidal wave. I was clearly in shock.

“He didn’t cut me
too bad, I don’t think,” my voice was throaty, gravelly. “I think he got my arm.” I looked down at the blood running from a deep gash in my arm. “And my hand.”

Cole swept his eyes over my body.
His eyes widened then he masked his face. He began wrapping my scarf tightly around my thigh.

I looked up at Cole
. His vibrant eyes were full of fear.

“Grace, babe,
I’ve got you, it’s okay now. You’re safe, but right now we have to get you to the hospital.” He continued to hold me close to his chest.

I
shook my head, trying to clear it, “Where did you come from?” I trailed off, feeling lightheaded. “Cole, you have to help Michelle. He hurt Michelle. Please, Cole, find her.” My chest racked with sobs uncontrollably.

“
Okay, but I’m getting you out of here first.” Cole lifted me in his arms and carried me quickly out of the small shed to the waiting EMTs, placing me down gently on the gurney.

“She’s hurt
…
badly.
” It was a whisper but I heard him. “Get her to Columbia Presbyterian now.” Cole turned to the police and his team. “Another woman is hurt, petite, dark hair. Couldn’t be too far from here.” His men spread out, running in different directions.

A female
EMT tried to examine Cole’s wounds, but he pulled away.

“You’ve been injured
too, sir. We need to take care of you too.”

“
Just get her to the hospital,” he directed the EMT. He bent down and kissed my forehead. “I’m going to find Michelle. I’ll get to the hospital as soon as I can.” He squeezed my hand and released it.

I nodded.
My worry for Michelle consumed me. My heart ached, my mind racing, reeling.

“What about him?”
The detective asked Cole, pointing to Jonathan.

“
Take that garbage to Bellevue,” he instructed the EMT pushing the gurney with Jonathan’s unconscious body.

The detective grabbed Cole
’s arm. “We’re going to need to check your men to verify they are licensed to carry. We’ve already secured the discharged weapon.”

“They are my
personal armed bodyguards. They hold carry licenses for New York. You can check it out later—they’re not going anywhere. We need to find Michelle first. She’s been hurt.”

The detective
received a call and raised his radio to his face. “Got it. On my way.” Detective Hansen lowered his radio. “They found a body. Matches the description of the girl.”

A body
…I felt sick.

“Where?
”

“They are
transporting her to the hospital now. Looks bad.”

I gasped and Cole turned his head in my direction.
He walked over to me and held my hand tight.

“They’re transporting her to the hospital
now. She’s hurt but alive.” He paused. “We’ve got to get you there, now. I’ll make sure she gets the best care, I promise.” A comforting look came over his face. “Grace, she’s a strong girl. She’s got a lot of fight in her.” Cole squeezed my hand.

T
ears fell freely down the sides of my face. They were wheeling me out of the park toward the back of the waiting ambulance. A large crowd had gathered on the street watching as they loaded me into the ambulance. I closed my eyes, silently praying, and...

Chapter 38

I tried to open my eyes. Too bright. I squeezed them shut. Just trying to open them caused my head to pound unmercifully. A dull ache throbbed in my arm, another in my groin. It felt like it was wrapped in seaweed and I was slowly drowning.

“Grace
, baby,” the voice whispered. A voice I recognized, but so far away.

Leave me alone
.

“Please
, Grace. You have to wake up. I need you, baby.”

Stop. L
eave me alone.
Go away.

The pain released me and
I floated back down into the water.

“Grace, please.”
A woman’s voice cried softly, begging, filled with pain. A man’s voice comforted her.

Not now.
My head hurts.