Chapter Twenty Five
Shannon
His worst nightmare came to life before his eyes when the door swung open, and Tuan Nguyen was standing there. Frozen and mute, Shannon stared at the devil in his doorway. “Look at you, all grown-up and fancy with your dance studio, loft apartment, and FBI boyfriend.” Tuan stepped into the apartment, and Shannon finally found his feet, walking backward until the kitchen cabinets stopped him.
“I always wondered about you Shannon—the one that got away, wondered if I’d ever see you again. He liked you more than any of the others. I daresay he loved you, but I’ve found you now, and I’m going to get rid of you like all the others.” It had been so many years since he’d cowered beneath Tuan’s menacing gaze. He snatched a picture off the top of the bookshelf against the wall by the door and only then did Shannon comprehend, only then did he see the long, jagged knife in Tuan’s black, gloved hand.
“Awwwww, so cute.” Tuan mocked him, dropping the frame on the floor, the sound of glass breaking snapping Shannon out of the haze of fear gripping him.
“Wait,” he gasped, Tuan’s words sinking in. “Get rid of me like the others? It was you. It wasn’t Bruce that killed all those guys, it was you.” It all clicked into place. Even after everything he’d been through, the pain and anguish he’d suffered at Bruce Pearson’s hands, Shannon had been hesitant to believe Bruce was a murderer. Seemed his gut instincts were right. It wasn’t Bruce; it was Tuan that had murdered the attorney’s former lovers.
Tuan laughed long and loud, throwing his head back and howling with glee. “You always were a smart little piece of shit, Shannon Dupree.”
He stepped sideways as Tuan came farther into the apartment, moving around to the other side of the counter and trying to slide the drawer open and keep both eyes on the menacing man in his home. Hands shaking, he managed to get it open far enough to grab a knife, holding it out in front of him, pointing the blade at the intruder. “Don’t come any closer.”
Oddly enough, Tuan stopped moving. The look he gave Shannon though, he couldn’t tell if the bodyguard wanted to kill him or kiss him, and it made his skin crawl. “Why did you do it? Why kill them, kill us? All they wanted to do was get away, to leave. Why kill them?” He was trying to make sense of the mind of a serial killer.
Lips snarling, Tuan’s smile was replaced with disgust and disdain. “Filthy whores, all of them, giving their innocence to Bruce without a second thought. And for what? Money, status? They sold themselves to him for what he could give them, just like you did dear, sweet Shannon. God, how I missed the opportunity to kiss your flesh with one of my blades. The noises you used to make while he broke you were exquisite, and I longed to cut you open and make you bleed.”
Oh, my, God! He’s insane…like, literally insane. Shannon spared a glance out the kitchen window, seeing the moon and stars in the night sky. Rory will be here any minute. He has to—it’s so late. But what if Tuan surprises him? What if he hurts Rory? Oh, God. No, no, no, no, no…this can’t be happening. Why is this fucking happening? Shannon fought to control his emotions, to ease his racing heart before he had a panic attack. Noise, he had to make noise. That would alert Rory that something was wrong and, hopefully, distract Tuan so he wouldn’t see Rory coming.
Darting over to the sink, he grabbed a pan from the dish drain and hurled it at Tuan, the big man lifting his arm and blocking the blow. He laughed, his feet bringing him closer to the kitchen, closer to Shannon; the sound was maniacal and eerie. “Well, look at you. Got some spunk in you now, little Shannon. Bet you could give Bruce a run for his money in the bedroom too.” The mention of Bruce and a bedroom in the same sentence with his name infuriated Shannon. He grabbed the glass coffee carafe and lobbed it across the room, snarling when Tuan sidestepped it, the glass crashing against the wall.
Needing both hands to cause maximum destruction, Shannon tossed the knife onto the counter and began an all-out assault with plates, glasses, anything he could get his hands on. Tuan was getting closer to him and madder by the second if the fire in his eyes was any indication. “No, never again. I will not allow you to hurt me ever again!” he hollered, rearing back and throwing a three-wick candle, clipping Tuan’s head.
“You’re going to pay for that in blood, you piece of shit.” Tuan growled.
A glint of metal caught his eye, the barrel of a gun, and the shadow of a man lingering in the darkness of the hallway beyond his front door. Standing there in the moment, watching the chaos that ensued, it felt like hours, standing in concrete, unable to move or stop something you could see happening before the fact. In reality, it took less than a minute for his book of life to be destroyed, the pages angrily torn from the spine.