Collin
He was pacing the floor of The Vault and wringing his hands. It had been over two hours since he’d left his message for Franklin at the Trifecta Lounge. As soon as he’d returned from his mission, he’d turned on the little television he’d brought in from the main house and had been watching, waiting for an announcement regarding Franklin’s confession to Julian McAllister’s murder. He wasn’t sure if it would come in the form of a press release or if he’d see a news story covering Franklin’s perp walk into the jail. He’d felt exultant at the mere thought of seeing the old man, flanked by Lexington police officers, with his hands cuffed behind his back and his head hung low in shame.
Now, however, he was growing impatient. His legs were restless, and he couldn’t sit still on the edge of the bed, staring at the television any longer. His tension was morphing into anger as his heart palpated rapidly and heat coursed through his body. Was Franklin defying him? Was that why there’d been no news of his confession? Was the old man really going to push him to kill his granddaughter?
Thinking of Mollie for the first time in a while, he looked over to the corner where she was still chained to the wall. She was slumped in the corner with a look of utter defeat on her beautiful face. Her once long blonde hair was now cropped short just past her ears. While Collin was no professional stylist, he thought he’d done a good job of maintaining her beauty with a pretty decent bob. Even with dirt, sweat, blood, and tears smeared across her face, she was still a lovely sight to behold. He was angry at Franklin for forcing his hand and making him extinguish her beauty forever. True, he’d planned on killing her all along, but not quite yet, and not in the way he was now forced to, in order to punish Franklin for both killing Collin’s father and ignoring his demands.
Collin walked over to the girl and knelt beside her. He lifted her chin gently with his forefinger and looked into her tearstained eyes. “I’m so sorry to tell you this, sweetheart, but your grandfather has abandoned you.”
Her eyes went wide as two moons, and new tears poured over her dirty cheeks. “Wha—what? What do you mean? He would never—”
“But he has. I sent him all your pretty hair with a note that told him exactly how he could save you, yet he’s refused. You see? He doesn’t care about you. He cares more about his freedom and his image than he does about his own precious granddaughter. I almost feel sorry for you. Almost.”
Collin couldn’t quite read the look on the girl’s face. She was either sad, or angry, or both. But to his great surprise, no tears fell down her dirty cheeks.
“There, there.” Collin patted her on the shoulder. “It won’t be long now. It will all be over soon. Unfortunately, I can’t make it quick or easy for you. You can thank your murderous grandfather for that.”
What happened next was so unexpected, Collin barely had time to register. Mollie lunged at him with both hands out, growling like a rabid dog, toppling him over. She was on top of him, legs straddled across his torso, clawing at his face. He held her at arms’ length, but she still managed to scratch deep gouges in his cheeks. After struggling for what seemed like an eternity, Collin finally managed to overpower her and shove her against the wall. He held her wrists tightly above her head and pinned her legs down with his knees. She was shaking her head and begging him not to kill her, and it took every ounce of restraint he had not to choke the life out of her, right then and there. But this was not how he wanted it to end.
He leaned in closer, so that his nose was touching hers. “You crazy bitch. What the hell were you thinking? You’re chained to the wall, for God’s sake.”
“Just go ahead and kill me,” she said, hatred burning in her eyes. “Just get it over with, already.”
Collin realized then what she’d been doing when she attacked him. She’d accepted her fate, but was hoping to die quickly and painlessly, and she’d hoped if she enraged him enough, he’d snap her neck or shoot her between the eyes. Anything other than the fate that awaited her, thanks to her smug, overly-confident grandfather. Too bad Collin was too smart and level-headed to be tricked into acting on emotions. After all, he felt so few of them.
He stood, walked over to the bookcase, and picked up the knife he’d placed on the shelf earlier. When he turned back toward the girl, instead of shivering in the corner as she had been since the beginning, she slowly stood, causing the chains around her ankles to rattle and scrape against the concrete floor. Collin couldn’t help but admire her tenacity, especially in the face of her impending death.
She held her chin up defiantly. “Do it, you coward. Come on. Just do it!”
Collin tilted his head. All right, then. If she was going to make it easier for him, all the better. He crept toward her deliberately, taking his time, enjoying the little game they were playing—he about to extinguish her life, she acting as if she actually wanted him to do it. He took one step, then another, and she straightened her shoulders and drew in a deep breath. The only thing Collin regretted was not getting to see the look on her face again. The one he’d seen on the six girls before her. The look of defeat he’d gotten off on for so many years. But if she wanted to play it this way, fine by him.
A loud, sharp sound like metal scraping on metal pierced the air and stopped him dead in his tracks. Collin looked up to the source of the ear-piercing noise. He was paralyzed with fear when he realized someone was trying to break the lock on The Vault’s door. How did they find him? How could they possibly have found the hidden trap door? It did him no good to worry about that now.
He rushed over to Mollie, who was also staring up at the ceiling, grabbed her by the upper arm, spun her around, and wrapped his left arm around her throat. He held the knife with his right hand and placed the tip of the blade right by her jugular vein. If this was how it was going to end, so be it. But he was not going to let Frankie have his granddaughter back. He would not let him win. If Collin was going to lose the game, so was Franklin. There would be no winners tonight.
But he had to wait until just the right moment. He had to wait until Franklin was standing before him so he could watch as the life drained from Mollie’s eyes. In that small way, Collin would be victorious.
Within seconds, the hatch opened, and Collin could see the stars and the moon above. It would probably be the last time he saw them.
“I told you he’d come to get me,” Mollie said with a spark of humor in her voice.
“Shut up. He’ll never get you back alive.”
Collin saw two sets of legs hurrying down the ladder. When they made it to the bottom, he saw that one of them was Franklin Cartwright, just as he’d known it would be. But there was someone else with him he didn’t recognize. The old man rounded the corner with a gun pointed right at Collin’s head. The other person with him wasn’t a man, he was a boy. What the hell was Franklin doing with a redheaded teenager?
“Let her go,” Franklin demanded through gritted teeth. “Or I’ll put a bullet in your brain right now.”
Collin laughed. “No, you won’t. I’d slice her throat from ear to ear first.”
“It’ll be the last thing you do. There’s no way out for you. You’re a dead man either way. The only question now is how slowly you want to die. You hurt her, I’ll make sure it drags on for days and days. So put down the knife right now.”
For the first time in Collin’s life, he was afraid. Inside, he was shaking like a leaf on a tree. His heart was beating a million miles a minute. But he wouldn’t let Franklin see him sweat. Instead, he held his head high and said, “Confess your sins, old man. I want to hear you say it.”
The old man smiled but didn’t lower his gun. “All right. Fine. I’ll say it. Yes, I killed your lowlife father. I took him to a warehouse on the south side of town, and I tortured him for two days before I finally put a bullet between his eyes. He deserved it, after what he did to all those girls. To my Addie. If you kill my granddaughter, you’ll be lucky if it only takes two days to die. Now, lower the knife, and I’ll make it quick and easy.”
“Go to hell.” Collin was trying to affect bravery, when in reality, he was scared shitless. He didn’t want to die a slow and painful death, but he couldn’t just roll over and accept his fate, either. There had to be a way out. All he needed was time to think. Time he didn’t have.
Then it came to him. He would kill the girl then turn the knife on himself before Franklin could reach him. He would die sooner than he’d hoped, but at least it would be fast and by his own hand. There was no way he was going to let Franklin Cartwright kill him like he had his father. He could take his beloved granddaughter and his power at the same time.
Collin had never once considered suicide. In most cases, it was the coward’s way out. But in this situation, it would be an act of bravery. At least he’d gotten to hear his father’s killer confess what he’d done before he died. He strengthened his grip on the knife and readied himself for the end.
“Say goodbye to your pops, Mollie.” He closed his eyes and brought the knife up to the sweet spot just below her ear. He drew in a deep breath, and for the first time since he was a young boy, Collin prayed. Dear Father, forgive me for my…
The gunshot rang out and echoed loudly across the cement walls. Excruciating pain shot through Collin’s right shoulder as he dropped the knife and it fell to the floor with a loud clank. Collin’s knees gave way, and he dropped to the ground. His left hand flew to his right shoulder as he slumped against the wall. When he pulled his hand away, it was covered in bright red blood. His own blood.
Briefly disoriented, he looked around for Mollie. He found her cowering in the corner like a scared animal. His eyes went to Franklin, who was walking quickly over to his granddaughter. The redheaded young man was standing in the same spot by the stairs, looking like he was about to pass out.
“Marty! Get over here!” Franklin shouted from the corner. “Get these shackles off her, now!” The old man had his arms wrapped around Mollie, who was shivering and staring at Collin blankly. The boy named Marty rushed over to the corner and pulled some sort of kit out of his pocket, selected a specific tool, and worked on the locks with trembling hands.
As Collin sat there trying to process what had happened, The Vault spun around him. His stomach lurched, and he had to fight back the urge to vomit all over himself. His pulse pounded at his temples. The pain in his shoulder was immense, and he felt lightheaded. He realized he was likely going to bleed to death. The poetic justice wasn’t lost on Collin. This was the same place where he’d killed several young women over the course of two years as he practiced and waited for the perfect opportunity to take Mollie. The same place where he’d planned to kill her too.
But Mollie was now safe in her grandfather’s arms, and the redheaded boy finally freed her ankles from the chains. It was all over now. He was going to die slowly, but not painfully. Though his shoulder was throbbing horribly, he felt nothing but a strange sense of calmness. He’d heard before that when someone bleeds out, they just fall asleep. That didn’t sound so bad to Collin. Especially not considering what Franklin would have done to him if Mollie had died.
“Bruno!” Franklin shouted. “Get down here!”
Second later, a very large man with a bald head came clamoring down the steps. Franklin motioned him toward the corner, and the big man silently bent and scooped Mollie up into his arms. Franklin struggled to his feet, placing his hand against the wall to steady himself.
The lights were starting to fade. Everything was growing dark. It was almost here. Death. The endless sleep. And most of all, peace. Collin had lived a tormented life, thanks to Franklin Cartwright. He’d grown up without a father, been teased relentlessly in school, and lived a life of solitude as an adult.
He’d tried to fight his demons at first, but eventually realized he had a calling. That calling was vengeance. Collin had spent years dreaming of the day he’d finally get retribution for his father’s murder. He’d accepted the fact, years ago, that he would probably not live to be an old man. He truly believed he would one day avenge his father’s death, even if it cost him his life in the process. But now, here he was, dying on a cold cement floor, watching his dream fade away. It had all been for nothing.
At least now he would be at peace. His demons had been silenced, and his soul was at ease. No more suffering. No more internal torment. It was over. Collin closed his eyes and let the darkness take him.