Garrett Page 2

  Once he finally finished her letter, he’d written the rest of them, slipped them into envelopes, and was gathering what he needed for his final trip. That was when Dax called and now instead of resting in a box, he was freezing his ass off on the side of a mountain. Thankfully, that would be over soon. He saw movement near the cabin and with one hand, he tucked Jessie’s picture back in his pocket and with the other, he picked up the binoculars.

  Garrett focused them on the porch and saw Josiah Miller. He was wearing a long-sleeved flannel shirt and a pair of jeans and boots. He had a coffee mug in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He was leaning up against one of the wooden beams and looking out at the snow that surrounded him. Garrett knew it would take Miller a few minutes to see what he’d left him. He lay down in the snow behind his rifle and put the binoculars down. He sighted his scope, taking his time as Miller continued to nurse his coffee. Garrett’s finger caressed the trigger and watched through the powerful scope as Miller’s eyes grew wide, his face went pale, and the mug slipped from his fingers. The bullet tore through his head before the mug even finished shattering against the wooden porch.

  Garrett took his time packing his things up, making sure he didn’t leave anything behind, before walking the two miles down to where the cabin was and the dead man lay, to do the same. The first thing he did was take down the picture he’d stolen out of Miller’s things while he was sleeping a few nights before. It was one that he’d had taken of Dax with his gun to some thug’s head. It was black and white and big enough for Miller to see from the porch where he stood each day. Garrett would gather the rest of the pictures once the body was taken care of. He’d take what he found in the cabin to Dax and then he’d go home to Las Vegas…for one last visit before he met Josiah Miller in hell.

  2

  Paige walked out the door of the bar with the clean-cut young man. He’d bought her two drinks and when it was time for Amanda to leave, Paige had told her to go on without her. She didn’t normally pick up guys in bars, or let herself be picked up. But something about this man was just so appealing to her. He was the most charming man she’d ever met. He was articulate and intelligent and gorgeous to boot. He was well over six feet tall, well dressed, with dark, professionally styled hair and dark green eyes that made her feel like he was looking directly into her soul.

  “This is me,” he said, as he slid his muscular arm around her waist. As he lowered his mouth to hers, Paige couldn’t help but think how different he was from the other men she was normally attracted to. Amanda always gave her a hard time about her choices in men. She called them “uncivilized” and “uncouth.” It was funny how she and her sister were raised in the same home, by the same parents, but they were like night and day. Amanda had always been interested in material things, and name brands were important to her. She worried constantly about what other people thought about how she looked, what she drove, and who she dated. Paige found the men that her sister brought home to be pretentious and stuffy for the most part, and Amanda looked down her pretty nose at the ones that Paige dated. But that night, she’d been impressed with the man, and maybe even a little jealous that he’d picked Paige over her.

  His kiss was delicious, as fine as he was, and Paige felt her body respond at once. When he let her up for breath she whispered, “Would you like to come back to my place for some coffee?” She was shocked when she heard it come out of her mouth. She’d never brought a man back to her apartment on a first date…much less a stranger that she’d only just met. But he wasn’t an ex-con, or a biker, or a gambler, or a tourist on vacation without his wife. Those were the kind of guys she was attracted to for some odd reason, but even she was smart enough to get to know them before she took them home. This guy was just so different. Amanda had given her a thumbs up, even as she was leaving the bar with their friend Kellie. Paige had driven them all there, but Amanda and Kellie took an Uber to their next destination so she could stay and spend more time with Prince Charming. She did wonder briefly what her sister would think of her inviting him home, but only for as long as it took him to say:

  “Let’s go.”

  Paige drove her car and he followed closely behind in a big, black Chevy pickup. The windows were tinted black and the rims were solid, shiny silver. She could hear the roar of the engine behind her each time she stopped at a light or stop sign, and it gave her a little tingle of anticipation in her belly. She felt like a wanton woman, but it was thrilling. She drove too fast and took the curves too sharp. They made it to her little brick house on the outskirts of Vegas in half the time it should have taken them. Once they were inside the house, she had him make himself comfortable on the couch and she went into the kitchen to make the coffee. She checked her makeup and hair in the toaster and when the coffee was ready, she poured two cups, took a deep breath and went back into the living room. Prince Charming was right where she’d left him, but he’d taken his jacket off and had even kicked off his shoes. It was the first time all night that she felt a modicum of unease.

  She cleared her throat and said, “I’m glad you made yourself comfortable. What do you want in your coffee?”

  He held out his hand and his fingers brushed hers as he took the mug. She almost shivered. “I like it black,” he said, in his smooth, sexy voice.

  Paige sat down next to him and he took a sip of the coffee before asking her, “Do you live alone, no roommates?”

  Paige felt a tickle of pride as she said, “I do. I got a promotion at work about six months ago, right before my roommate moved out. I realized I could afford the place myself then, and I love living alone. The privacy is awesome.”

  He nodded and took another sip of his coffee. “That was your sister with you tonight?”

  “Yes, Amanda is my little sister. She’s two years younger than me. Kellie is her best friend.”

  “They’re headed home tonight?”

  “Yes. They share a house on the north side of town.” Another sliver of unease. Why was he asking so many questions about her being alone? Before she could let that feeling fester, he leaned over and kissed her again. As his wet, hot tongue slid in between her lips, she forgot why she was worried. He kissed and touched her so softly. Within seconds her entire body felt like it was on fire and her panties were beginning to get wet. It wasn’t until his hand slid down her throat, to the front of her blouse, and landed on her breast that her mind began to work again. She realized quickly, and painfully, that he was no longer touching her gently. He was crushing her breast and when she tried to pull out of the kiss to protest, he bit her. She could feel and taste the blood as it filled her mouth. He still wouldn’t let her out of the kiss. The taste of blood and the feeling of it sliding down her throat was making her nauseous, but it seemed to bring something alive inside of him…something dark, dangerous, and ugly.

  Paige was confused at first, then she was scared, and when he began to use both hands to rip at the dress she was wearing and press his knuckles into her thighs with painful pressure, she got angry. The anger caused a rush of adrenaline and she began to fight back. She was able to get one of her arms up, and she grabbed a handful of his dark hair and pulled. Almost simultaneously, he drew back his fist and knocked her upside the head. He put enough force behind it to cause her body to be propelled off the couch, slide over the coffee table and into the mugs of hot coffee, and land on the floor with a thud.

  She was still dazed when a big hand reached down and grabbed the front of her dress and ripped it off her body. She started to scream then, and that netted her a kick from his large foot to her head. She was still seeing stars when he followed up with a kick to her ribs. She felt and heard them crack and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. That was when he finished ripping off her clothes. She was still trying to fight, but her slaps at him were so weak that they couldn’t possibly hurt, but only annoy, and when he got annoyed enough, she got another fist to her face. She was choking on her own blood when he used one arm to flip her over onto her stomach.
He put the other arm on the back of her head and pressed her face into the carpet…and then he raped her.

  Paige lay there, with no choice but to endure the torture. She’d never had sex without a condom and the feel of his skin against hers as he violated her most intimate spaces, caused the bile to rise into the back of her throat. She closed her eyes and tried to block out the pain and prayed for it to be over. She wondered if he’d kill her when he was finished and she was surprised when she found herself wishing he would. What if she got pregnant? What if she’d never be able to make love to a man again without thinking about this disgusting man? Yes, she’d be better off if he killed her. How would she ever tell her parents what happened? They’d never look at her the same. She brought him home. She invited him to rape her. She lay there with those thoughts swirling in her brain as she tasted blood and salty tears and felt the most excruciating pain she’d ever felt in her life. At last she heard him let out a wild, animalistic grunt, and he held her hips tightly as he emptied his evil seed deep inside of her…and just like that, he was done. His weight lifted off her and she lay there as quiet as a mouse and still as a stone, waiting for him to kill her. He moved around for a few seconds and it wasn’t until he squatted down next to her that she realized he’d been up putting his shoes and jacket back on, and pulling up his pants. The pig smiled at her and his white teeth sparkled.

  “I’m taking your phone with me. Don’t go outside. Don’t go to the neighbors. Don’t call the cops. I’m letting you live out of the goodness of my heart. Do not piss me off and make me come back…because I will. I know where you live, you told me where you work, you told me you were all alone and your sister was way across town. I’m taking your house key when I leave and I will use it to come in and slit your throat if you say anything to anyone.” And at that, he stood up and calmly walked out the front door. She heard the sound of that big truck and instead of hopeful anticipation, all it stirred in her was fear, shame, and regret. She lay there, soaked in her own blood and tears and wondering if she had the courage to take her own life…

  …until the screeching sounds penetrated her brain on a deep enough level for her to wake up. She was soaked in sweat and her face was drenched in tears as she groped in the dark for her phone. She turned off the offending alarm and then sat with her knees pulled up to her chest and her head between her hands and sobbed. She’d been seeing a therapist three days a week, but instead of getting better, the nightmares had only gotten worse. The sleep medications didn’t work most of the time and when they did, she still had the horrible dreams. She turned her head and looked at the clock. It was four minutes after three in the morning. She’d made her decision the night before, left a note for her parents, called in sick to work, and then set her alarm for three. She couldn’t stand it any longer. What she was doing was called surviving, and she’d even have to add a “just barely” in front of that.

  She threw back the covers and stood in the dark, pulling on the jeans and sweater she’d laid out on the chair next to the bed, and then she slipped on her soft boots. She went out into the living room and picked up her purse. She wanted her I.D. on her when she did this, so it didn’t take long for them to figure out who she was and so that her parents wouldn’t have to try to identify her mangled body. She looked around the dark little house that she’d decorated so proudly, one last time, and then she went out the front door and pulled it shut behind her.

  Paige was afraid she’d change her mind on the thirty-minute drive to the dam, but when she pulled her car into the dark, empty parking lot, she was even more determined than she had been when she left the house. She was going to end her life in the same place where Amanda had ended hers, and maybe if she ran into her sister on the other side, Amanda would forgive her at last.

  As Paige made her way to the spot where she planned on climbing over the six-foot cement wall, she thought back to that horrible night. Amanda had been the one to leave with the handsome young man, even though Paige urged her not to. Amanda had told her to mind her own business and to “go and find another loser biker” while she “spent the evening with Prince Charming.” Paige had been pissed at her sister at first and she’d gone with Kellie to the next bar. But no matter how hard she tried to shake it, she had a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach that just wouldn’t go away. At midnight she started texting her sister. By one a.m., she was calling her. When she hadn’t answered by two, she put Kellie in an Uber home and took another one to Amanda’s house. She found the door unlocked and her sister half-dead. If Paige hadn’t found her and called an ambulance, she would have quickly suffocated from lack of oxygen, thanks to the hole that the broken ribs had put in her lungs. Or she might have bled out, thanks to the damage that his foot had done to her spleen and liver. As soon as Amanda was on the way to the hospital, Paige called their parents. By the time Amanda woke up in the ICU, they were all there. Paige had gone down to get coffee and when she walked back into the room, it was to the tune of her father lecturing her sister. “What on earth were you thinking?” he was asking her. Paige had jumped quickly to her defense, but Amanda had narrowed her eyes at her sister and said the four words that would haunt Paige until she took her last breath:

  “This is your fault.”

  Paige was able to suck up her own feelings in order to concentrate on her sister. Amanda was broken and no amount of verbal abuse was going to push Paige away. She sat with her day and night until she was physically ready to leave the hospital. She endured Amanda’s telling her that she was going to have to live a lifetime of humiliation and hurt because of her. If Paige had just let her die, Amanda said, repeatedly, she wouldn’t be suffering. Paige sucked it up even when the rapist was caught and once again her sister hated her for putting her through the ordeal of picking him out of a lineup, talking to the police and lawyers, and facing the idea of having to tell that horrible story in a courtroom full of strangers, not to mention the idea of having to face her rapist as well. Paige had been praying he’d plead guilty, but that was too much to hope for. His name was Benjamin Ewell and he was thirty years old. He came from a “good,” middle-class family in Henderson and he worked in the executive branch of one of the most successful hotels and casinos in Vegas. He hired a high-powered attorney and was released on bail. Paige was more worried about Amanda than ever when that happened, but shockingly, she seemed to be getting better. After a week or two of her sister not crying herself to sleep, or having a panic attack at the sound of a pickup engine as it drove by, Paige had renewed hope that someday she’d be back to “normal” and she could go on to have a happy, productive life. That hope ended the day they found Amanda’s body.

  Paige had only left her alone for a day. She’d run out of time off at work and there was no one available to stay with her. Amanda had seemed so “normal” that day, she’d even smiled and joked around with her sister. Before Paige left for work, Amanda had hugged her and thanked her for everything that she’d done. Paige had spent the day with a smile on her face and false hope in her heart. She got the call an hour before she left work. Amanda had climbed the barrier and jumped off the dam to her death. That was the first night Paige had the nightmare, and it had been relentless ever since. The days weren’t much better. She blamed herself, and she’d convinced herself that her parents blamed her as well. In the letter she’d told them she wished it had been her and that she was sorry for the part she’d played in Amanda’s death. She doubted that they would forgive her, but it was all she had left to hope for. The final straw wasn’t the nightmares, or her parents, however. It was the smug smile that Benjamin Ewell gave her that afternoon in court when the charges against him were dropped. Without Amanda’s testimony, the DA didn’t think he had a case. Paige had been physically ill when she watched him walk out of the courtroom as a free man, and she’d wished that she had the nerve to kill him instead of herself. But she knew that no matter how wonderful shooting him in the head might sound, she’d never be able to go through wit
h it. Living in a world with him and without her sister was what had pushed her over the edge. After tonight, Benjamin Ewell could have the world. She was finished with it.

  3

  Garrett parked the bike a few stalls away from the lone car in the lot. He eyed it suspiciously, wondering why it was there. The park was closed, and no one should be up on the dam observatory deck at that time of morning. He slid off the bike and walked in a circle around the car to make sure no one was inside. It didn’t look like a rental; it had Nevada plates and the back window was filled with little stuffed animals with big eyes. He considered calling off his plans for the night, but decided that the car could have easily been left by an employee with engine trouble or a dead battery.

  He told himself that he was only making excuses, and that made him a coward. He turned away from the car and took off his kutte. He laid it over the leather seat of his bike and hoped that the police would find it before the scavengers did. He didn’t deserve to wear it while he died. He knew that he was taking the coward’s way out, but the psychological pain in his head had become too much to bear. He hoped that his brothers would forgive him, and he hoped that Jessie would too, most of all. When he was young he had loved to read and a passage he’d read once, written by Friedrich Nietzsche, had stuck in his head, “Be careful fighting the monsters lest you become one.” He wasn’t sure if being a SEAL and fighting the monsters had made him one, or if perhaps the monster had always dwelled inside of him. But he was sure that he was tired of fighting it and he was mostly afraid that if he gave up, he’d give in.