Riding through the suburbs at night felt strange. The night and the sideways torrents of rain shrouded the houses, the trees, even the white lines of the road in inky blackness, with only the occasional, errant streetlamp to light my path. I’d never felt more like an intruder in this town than I did in those moments, like I was sneaking through the halls of a house, only inches away from its sleeping occupants, all while riding on the back of a roaring motorcycle.

I did my best to push my concerns to the back of my mind as I rode closer and closer to Delfino’s house, hoping that Lucy was still there, and more importantly, that she hadn’t been killed. Brutalized.

Or worse.

I pictured Delfino standing over Lucy as she lay on the floor, blood pooling beneath her slim frame as she stared blankly at the ceiling, focused on some point between worlds. There was a gun in his hand, or a knife—the instrument of her death changed from moment to moment, flickering, transient—but what stayed the same was the pale complexion of her corpse, no longer fair-skinned, but ashen, almost translucent, in death.

No. I couldn’t think about that. I had to believe that she would be okay, and that when this was all over, that the two of us would ride out of Pleasant Lakes to live happily ever after. I had to maintain that hope, that blind, naïve faith… or I was going to fall apart in the middle of the street, a heap of scrap metal and bones.

About a block away from Delfino’s house, I cut the engine, swinging my leg off the bike so I could push it the rest of the way. It was slower, but I didn’t want to let that bastard know I was coming—the thunder was loud, sure, but Crush’s bike was louder. I knew the second he heard me pulling into the drive, he’d do Lucy in right then and there, if he hadn’t already. I wanted to play this safe rather than end up sorry. I would have laughed at how out of character it was for me to actually plan shit out instead of flying off the handle, if the situation had been any different. If the stakes hadn’t been so goddamn high.

After a few laborious minutes of walking the bike out to Delfino’s street, I pushed it up behind a row of hedges that blocked it from view of the windows.

A thick, oppressive silence, palpable like a stagnant fog, smothered the ambient noise in a way that made my skin crawl. It was like walking through the woods and realizing just a little too late that nothing’s making sound except for you. I couldn’t even hear the song of the crickets foretelling the next day’s weather. It was as though the entirety of creation was holding its breath in anticipation of what might happen next.

I peeked around the side of the hedge, glancing quickly around toward the front door and the side of the house, my eyes snagging on a glint of chrome highlighted by a lightning strike. I squinted, focusing my gaze on the metallic glimmer to see if I could make out what it was. The longer I stared, the more the thing took shape in the darkness, and suddenly I realized I was looking at another motorcycle—one I would know just about anywhere.

It was Jackal’s.

Jackal was here.

The moment the realization washed over me, I heard the brittle sound of shattering glass and a scream from someone up on the second floor—a woman’s scream.

Lucy!

She was alive—if clearly in danger. For just a second, I allowed my heart to soar. Moments ago, I hadn’t even been able to depend on that much, but now that I knew she was still breathing—that the visions in my mind hadn’t come to pass, not yet—resolve filled me like never before.

I had no time to lose. But I needed to be smart about this. Jackal and Delfino were inside, two of the most dangerous people I’d ever met. Busting down the door was likely to make a tense situation already worse.

I remembered how Lucy and I had gotten into the church offices. She’d disapproved of my methods then, but they’d gotten the job done, at least. There were two long, thin panes of glass on either side of Delfino’s front door, and I knew if I broke one in, it wouldn’t make nearly enough of a ruckus to be heard over the scuffle happening upstairs.

I waited for thunder. Then, wrapping my jacket around my hand, I punched through the glass—unlike Lucy’s window, these shards only twinkled as they were crushed inward, like the ringing of a little bell. I brushed aside the remaining glass and put my jacket back on, then reached in and unlocked the door, letting it swing open into the darkness that lay beyond.

It took several moments for my eyes to fully adjust, but from the strange angles of the shadows, the usually immaculate interior looked somewhat askew, and by my count, more than a few items were missing. Someone had started packing.

“I ain’t just gonna be left here to die, Delfino,” Jackal’s voice echoed from upstairs. “I’m not going to let those fuckers catch me. Way I see it, you’re the only way I’m getting out of this hellhole. And little Lucy here’s my ticket to ride.”

“You probably should have thought of that from the beginning,” Delfino’s cool voice replied. “Now you’ve got to lie in the bed you made.”

“Like hell I do,” Jackal growled, and Lucy cried out again. My vision blurred, the world transforming into vague streaks in shades of red. I mounted the stairs, doing my best to keep my ascent as silent as possible.

The only weapons I had with me were my hands. And I intended to wrap them tight around Delfino’s and Jackal’s throats. The only question was who would die first. Both of them had put their hands on Lucy. Both of them had hurt her in unspeakable ways. My Lucy. The bastards…

“Let her go,” Delfino said, a crack of emotion splintering his cold baritone. He recovered swiftly enough. “You let her go—now—or I’m going to make you regret ever setting foot in this town.”

“Oh, not to worry,” Jackal sneered, “I already regret riding into your little shithole of a town, Delfino. But now you’re going to make sure I make it out of here alive.”

“You think either of us are making it out of here alive?” Delfino snorted, a kind of nihilistic amusement in his voice. “This is the end for both of us now, Jackal. I’m going to be just as much of a dead man as you are. I have nothing to lose.”

“Maybe you’re willing to kick the bucket,” Jackal chuckled, “but I sure as hell ain’t. And I don’t think that your pretty little bitch here is, either.”

Bitch? I could see Delfino from the hallway now. He had a gun. Shit. That complicated things. It complicated things a lot. I was going to need some kind of weapon too, something more than just my fists. Quietly, I unplugged the lamp sitting on a console table in the hall, then yanked the cord out of the lamp itself. Slowly, steadily, I wound it around both sets of my fingers.

But it seemed like Delfino wasn’t about to let that comment slide any more than I was. His finger dropped from the trigger guard to the trigger… but then Lucy whimpered again.

“I told you not to hurt her,” Delfino gritted.

“Since you ain’t gonna help me,” Jackal hissed, “I don’t think I’m particularly beholden to what you want. Given the circumstances, I think you’re beholden to what I want. So here’s how it’s gonna work. I’m gonna take your car. My bike’s a little obvious, as far as modes of transportation go, so I think the way to go is somethin’ more… subtle.” He laughed, followed by another sharp cry from Lucy. “I’m going to take this little cunt with me—as insurance—and then—”

Delfino squeezed. An explosion echoed.

Jackal dropped.

Lucy screamed.

But it wasn’t fear. Not just fear. This was pain, too. Terror, and agony.

My blood boiled.

No more waiting. I’d wasted enough time already. I was going to do what I did best. I was going to destroy this motherfucker.

I charged, slamming into Delfino from behind, knocking him to the floor. He reared up, predictably, but before he could turn around I slid the cord around his throat and pulled, twisting for leverage. A furious roar choked off as the wire tightened against his trachea. I didn’t let up. I wanted to hear the fucker gag and wheeze.

Delfino got his hand up, squeezed his fingers up under the cord, and won himself a breath for his effort. He made it onto his knees and shoved us both backward, out of the room and into the wall of the hallway behind us.

The console table tipped over. The backs of my shoulders made awful indents in the drywall. My broken ribs screamed and I loosened my grip enough for Delfino to duck out of the garrote. My fingers were still tangled in the wire and I couldn’t get them out quick enough to block his fist. My whole skull vibrated with the blow.

Get him down, the survival instinct in the back of my mind said. You get him on the ground, he’s done for.

I finally managed to get the cord out of my hands, and when Delfino struck at me again, I pushed his fist away and jabbed him hard in the eye socket. He reeled and I tackled him around the waist, his head striking the doorframe as he went down. He was dazed. I took full advantage of that.

I straddled him. Brought my fist down as quick and as hard as I could, over and over, while holding him by his shirt with my opposite hand. I felt his pulse quicken, heart slamming against his chest almost in time to the downward swing of my punches. Blood bloomed at his nostrils and lips. One eye blackened, already swelling shut. His cheekbone crumpled, but I didn’t stop. He brought his arms up to defend himself, but I shoved them aside.

Then one hand grabbed my face, tilting my chin back. As I struggled blindly, Delfino jammed one of his fists into my side. Right into my broken ribs.

I sucked in air as my vision flashed white. Delfino used his grip on my face to throw me sideways. I rolled, doubled, and a second blow—this one a sharp kick—made me heave.

Shit!

“You thought you could just charge in here and take me out?” Delfino asked, a rueful laugh the undercurrent to his words. He stood, slowly, spitting blood onto the hardwood floors. “Who the fuck do you think you are, you little shit?”

His next kick got me right in the sternum, and I screamed. At this rate, my entire ribcage would be a fractured mess—though I wouldn’t really have to worry much about that if I never made it out of this room alive.

“I think I’m the guy that’s about to kick your ass,” I said, my voice strained from the assault I’d taken to my ribs. That made Delfino laugh even more, a smile splitting his face.

“You know,” the old man said, shaking his head, “I think I might have liked you, Richards, if you weren’t such a fucking pain in my ass. But I don’t have time for this.”

The mobster slowly, almost casually, stepped closer as I lay there on the floor, trying to breathe through the pain running rampant in my torso. At first I didn’t know what the hell was coming next as he stared down at me, steely eyes assessing me, weighing me, finding me wanting. I watched as he lowered his foot onto my throat.

“I’ll make time, though,” he said as my hands started to scrabble at his ankle. “To kill you nice and slow…”

I did my best to pull him off of me, put up one hell of a fight, but despite my being somewhat stronger than the old man, he definitely weighed more. Already I could feel my windpipe closing, the strain of my hyoid bone as he began to apply pressure. He’d either break the bone and collapse my windpipe, or hold his foot their long enough for me to suffocate. I really wasn’t excited to find out which one it would be.

I tried to gurgle out some kind of protest, but as I looked up into his eyes, I could see that I wasn’t dealing with a reasonable, calm Delfino. This was the Delfino that had always been lurking beneath the surface, the cold-blooded killer who’d run a town full of mobsters for the last decade.

But then another gunshot gave Delfino pause.

I sucked in a breath as he removed his foot from my throat, the air rattling its way down to my lungs, expanding them painfully against my bruised and broken bones. Gathering the wherewithal to raise my head, I saw Lucy standing beside the broken window that Jackal had used to make his entrance. The gun was in her hand now, and she had it pointed right at Delfino. In the confusion, I’d forgotten all about it.

She’d missed, clearly. Delfino was still standing, looking none the worse for wear, despite what I’d done to him. But she’d gotten his attention. He wet his bloodied lips.

“Lucy,” Delfino said, his voice calm and assuring, “give that to me.”

“Shut up,” she hissed. Her hands were trembling. They shook harder as he took a step over the threshold toward her. “Get back!”

“You’re not going to shoot me,” he said, looking into her eyes as he held out his hand for the weapon. The manipulator had returned, and I watched as the expression on Lucy’s face shifted, though to what emotion, I couldn’t tell. Even as lightning flashed, illuminating her pale complexion, the look there was… strange. I just couldn’t place it. And that scared me more than anything else.

“You’re going to give me the gun,” Delfino continued. “You are going to hand me that gun, now, and all of this is going to be fine.”

“Just put it down, Lulu,” I said weakly. My voice was scratchy, hoarse, and my pleas were interrupted by a hacking cough that made me feel like I was going to retch. “You don’t want to have this on your conscience. You’re not a killer.”

“No,” Delfino said. “You’re not like us.”

I hated being lumped in with him. More than I could say. But what I especially resented was the reason why he was doing it. It was a ploy to make Lucy think of me and Delfino as one and the same. A desperate attempt to transfer her affection for me onto him. To make her show mercy.

It almost made me want to take back what I’d said and tell her to do it. But I couldn’t let Lucy bear the burden of that stain on her soul.

“You don’t need to shoot him to save me, Lulu,” I told her instead. “Please. Don’t…”

Her eyes turned toward me, her lips trembling as she glanced between Delfino and me. His hand was still outstretched, reaching for the gun, only inches from pulling it from her hands.

“I’m not saving you,” she whispered, sliding her gaze back to Delfino. I watched the light dim behind her eyes. “I’m saving myself.”

He lunged. “No—”

The muzzle flashed. Point blank this way, Lucy didn’t miss a second time.

Delfino took one, two, three steps backward before collapsing onto his back, his eyes fixed and staring at the ceiling, just the way I’d imagined Lucy lying there in my waking dreams. I watched the light go out in his eyes, too. Watched the man’s soul leave his body.

With a sob, Lucy dropped the gun one final time, onto her bed, before she too sank to the floor.