sakura
After I wrapped my feet in gauze and cleaned up the bloody mess in Callan’s bedroom, I peered out the back door at Georgina, who lay in a puddle of her own blood near the bar. My throat dried. I hadn’t meant to hurt anyone, but she had deserved it.
She … she had hurt Callan. She’d stabbed him, then tossed him into the pool!
Probably thought that her daddy would take care of him and dispose of his body, but she didn’t know that her father was dead. Part of me wished that I would’ve kept his head, so I could thrust it into her face and laugh at her horror.
I disappeared back into the house, hurried to the garage, and searched for rope or honestly anything I could use to tie her up. I didn’t want her escaping or running away if I ended up bringing him to the hospital. She would blab to the mob or maybe her brother and get us both killed.
Once I finally found some rope—that wouldn’t be enough to restrain her—I took an empty hose sitting on one of the shelves and a bundle of wire. Hell, I wasn’t sure what I would do with this, but I needed to restrain her as soon as possible, especially before she woke up.
When I had all the materials, I dragged a dining room chair into Callan’s bedroom and dropped the rope, hose, and wire at the foot of the bed. I walked out onto the back patio, my feet aching from the glass wounds, and stared down at Georgina’s body. She was still breathing.
Unfortunately.
Blood seeped from the mallet wound in her head. I gulped at the damage I had done, then at the bloody meat mallet. My stomach twisted into knots. I curled my hands underneath her armpits and dragged her from the bar to the back door, then into their bedroom.
She was much lighter than Callan, so tiny, like Mom, and I wouldn’t put it past this bitch to be on hard drugs or even popping pills.
After I lifted her body to sit in the chair, I circled the rope around her ankles and the chair legs. Then, I cut the rope with a kitchen knife, pulled her wrists behind the chair, and tied them together, using the remainder of the rope. I didn’t have time to go buy more, and I didn’t even know if this would keep her restrained.
Maybe I should ask Poison. They’d know, right?
I shook my head.
I grabbed the hose and bound her torso to the chair as many times as I could until the hose ran out, and then I tied the ends of it. And because I hated her, I took the wire and tied her neck to the chair too. She’d have a fun time, trying to escape this.
Bitch.
Once I finished, I collapsed back onto the bed and took a couple of deep breaths, sweat rolling down my forehead. I lifted my gaze to her and stared at the bloody woman, my heart racing. In pleasure and in fear.
Less than a damn hour ago, I had been searching for Callan. Now, I had rescued him from drowning, knocked his wife out, and tied her to a damn dining room chair in the middle of their room! If anyone found out … I would be screwed.
Absolutely screwed!
The thought of calling Gunther for advice crossed my mind. His parents had been in the mob and probably shown him how to … restrain a body. Get rid of it. Maybe? He would have some knowledge of something, right?
But not having a phone was killing me.
I could try dragging Callan’s body to my car, but I feared I would hurt him even more.
Screw it. I had to do something.
And just as I stood, Georgina’s body twitched.
I narrowed my gaze and glared at her. How was she waking up already? I had hit her so hard. She didn’t deserve to breathe another breath in this world after what she had done to Callan. I glanced over my shoulder at Callan, who was now bleeding through his gauze.
Tears welled up in my eyes. This wasn’t fair.
She deserved to die. Not him.
The knife I’d used to cut the rope glimmered under the dim room light at Georgina’s feet. I stared at it for a couple of moments, my brow furrowing in pain. I had never killed anyone ever. I had never thought about taking a life before tonight.
But Georgina … had nearly killed my Callan.
Who knows if he will wake up? My hands balled into fists. What if he doesn’t?
I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t.
I pushed myself off the bed, walked to her body, and grabbed the knife.
I had to.