Killing Freedom Read online

  Jared pulled the safe door open, twisting at the key wedged inside. It didn’t matter if it was planted—he just needed to get to it, get away…

  Something shuffled behind him as his hands gave way, his body crumbling to the floor.

  As he turned around, behind the purple spots and pulsating spiral of light, he saw Cindy looking down at him, completely static. Her eyes were wide and puzzled.

  ‘I was right,’ she said. ‘I was right about him—Brian!’

  The whole house crumbled around Jared as Cindy disappeared from the office. Then darkness and the muffled sound of a door closing, and footsteps…

  Chapter Twelve

  The first thing he noticed when he opened his eyes was how much the light hurt.

  He was on holiday with Faith. Cindy and Brian were there too, somewhere. Carl was on the beach building a sandcastle—no, Carl wasn’t there.

  Where was Carl?

  The sound of heavy footsteps rattled against the hard floor, his head thudding as his eyes adjusted to reality. No holiday, no beach, no Faith. Just him, all alone again.

  Brian stepped into the room. Jared tried to move his arms but they seemed to be stuck, something sharp digging into his wrists. His legs lay flat in front of him.

  Brian paced around the room muttering things under his breath and shaking his head. He didn’t make eye contact with Jared. Top button of his white shirt: undone, tie slung halfheartedly over his back.

  He was holding Jared’s phone in his hand.

  ‘You see, when Cindy told me about you acting weird, I really didn’t think anything of it. I guess I was just fucking stupid. Seeing the good in you, whatever.’ He shook his head.

  Cindy had suspected him. Of course she had. Was it the bathroom trick? The towel outside of the window? He was supposed to be a professional, for God’s sake. Now Raymond would never forgive him. He’d got himself into this mess and there was nothing else he could do. He wouldn’t have anyone to care about anymore. ‘Plea—’

  ‘Shut up,’ Brian said. ‘I’ve let you into my home again and again. I’ve… I’ve trusted you to go through my documents. You exploit my good nature, you—I’ve let you sit around my table, give fucking gifts to my son? Why, Richard? Why?’

  Jared’s head pounded as Brian’s words rose in pitch and force. ‘It—it was never personal,’ he said, with a pathetic whimper.

  Brian scoffed. ‘Never personal? How the fuck can you have the arrogance to say it’s not personal? What, does that help you or something? Help you carry out your little games? Talk to me.’

  The Richard persona was useless. Dead. There was nothing he could salvage from that anymore. ‘It does—I guess it does help. But you… Brian, you and your family… I guess what I’m trying to say is, you were different. I didn’t… I didn’t want to do it. I mean I had no choice. I thought about doing it with the wine and that night but I couldn’t. I couldn’t because you’re… you’re good people and I’m thankful for that.’

  Brian stared into Jared’s eyes with pity and shook his head. ‘You’re fucking crackers, man. Like, you’ve seriously lost it. You’re telling me you’ve grown a conscience in the last minute? Is that right?’

  Jared closed his eyes together. ‘I don’t know. Maybe. That night—when my sister got hurt—I think I realised what I really wanted.’

  Brian nodded sarcastically. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘Right. Well I’ll let you explain that to the police. They’re on their way. They should be here soon.’

  Jared’s body went limp with the inevitability of it all. There was nothing else to it now. He’d be arrested and Raymond would leave him in there to pay for what he’d done. Or he would have Jared hunted down in prison. Have him tossed into a cell with a bulky bloke. He’d find another Jared—someone who wouldn’t falter or let him down.

  Brian walked over to the door, Jared’s phone still in his hand. ‘Tell me one thing, though, and have the dignity to answer me, okay? If—if you have an ounce of respect for us, you’ll tell me, right?’

  Jared nodded. There was nothing else he could do but nod, tied here to a metal bar, his false sense of self completely liquidated.

  ‘If you and your friend were planning to rob us then why did you bother getting to know us first?’

  Jared’s head spun. ‘Planning to rob us.’ There was a silence in the room as the pair of them stared at each other. A sense of dread worked its way up through Jared’s body. ‘Wait—did you say planning to rob?’

  Brian shook his head, faint smile on his face. ‘Don’t play dumb with me now. The texts, the drink spiking. And I saw the way you eyed up that safe over there. It’s pretty obvious what you had planned. You’ve as good as admitted it to me. Fucking insane.’

  Jared’s mind raced. ‘You’ve, no wait—you’ve got it wrong. Did you say… Wait, when did you call the police?’ He was shouting now, shuffling about as the wires dug into his wrists.

  Brian frowned. ‘Not that it’s any of your business, but they should be here at around seven-ish. That gives you…’ He looked at his watch. ‘Another minute or two.’

  Something wasn’t right. The tension welled up in Jared’s chest, his heart racing. ‘Wait, something’s not right. I’m—I’m not a robber, I’m—well, please, you need to get out of this house.’

  Brian narrowed his eyes. ‘And why would I do that?’

  He heard the sound of a car engine somewhere outside and he knew what it meant right away. He battled at the ties round his wrists and kicked out his feet but it was no use.

  ‘Brian, please. I’m not a robber, I’m…’ he closed his eyes. ‘I’m a killer. I was sent here to kill your family because—because I work for Raymond DiBlanco.’ The car engine stopped and two doors slammed. ‘I can’t go into things, and I don’t have time, but I’m telling you this because if you don’t hide or get out of this house right now, you’re in serious trouble.’

  Brian tried to force a bewildered laugh as the sound of footsteps approached his front door. ‘You—you’re what?’

  ‘Brian, just get out of here right now.’

  The doorbell chimed through the house as Brian’s face collapsed in realisation. He did nothing but stare at Jared, his body completely still, the weight of it all enveloping him.

  ‘I’ve got it,’ Cindy called.

  Then the sound of the door opening, a man’s voice.

  ‘Sure, if you’d like to come thr—’

  A blast tore through the silence.

  And then another.

  Then something heavy cracked against the floor.

  Jared and Brian could only stare at each other, Brian’s eyes bulging out of his skull as he dropped Jared’s phone.

  The smile of power that had so recently crossed his face still twitched at the corners.

  Feet shuffled around outside the study door as Brian finally stepped towards it, still staring into Jared’s eyes.

  ‘Wait,’ Jared said, the words barely escaping. ‘You can’t go out the—’

  ‘Don’t you fucking dare tell me what I can or cannot do in my house,’ he said. ‘You come in here, you… you try to steal my money, and now my… Cindy.’ His eyes widened in realisation. ‘My baby. My baby.’ He gripped his hands around the handle of the door.

  No. They couldn’t come in here. Brian was making a mistake—a huge mistake. Jared pulled at the wire around his hands, but it was no use. Brian didn’t know what these people were like.

  Brian opened the door and was greeted by a chorus of cheers. He stared at the floor in disbelief, the unmistakable mound of flesh in front of him completely still and bleeding out from the stomach.

  He dropped to his knees as the footsteps marched towards him. ‘What the fuck have you—oh, Cindy, please… please.’ He dropped his head onto her chest, sobbing. ‘Why? Please, Cindy. Please. Why?’

  Jared could only watch. He tried not to speak. He’d seen how these men operated; he’d even worked with them at times. They enjoyed it. He clenched his jaw and
held his breath. Please don’t notice me. Please don’t come in here.

  A man dressed in black stood over Brian, who kneeled by the study doorway, and thumped him on the back of his head with the butt of his gun. Brian’s head cracked with the impact as he flew towards the floor. The man reached down for Brian before poking his head into the study.

  When Jared saw the ginger beard covering his face and the perfect bald head, he realised how much danger they were really in.

  ‘Well, well,’ the man said, stepping into the study. ‘Who’d have thought Jared Colwright would end up getting in this much shit one day, huh?’

  Jared collapsed against the wall. There was nothing he could say or do to reason with him other than hope he got off lightly—hope to whatever god there was up there that it was quick and not as painful as some of the acts this man had committed in the past. ‘Do what you’ve got to do to me, Frank. Just… please, think about this family.’

  Frank laughed, leaning back and scratching his matted beard like he always did. He laughed a lot. Jared had worked together with him for years. Frank wasn’t a thinker like Jared; he was more interested in torture and playing games with people. Some people got kicks from sex, cars, cocaine. Frank got kicks from seeing a glimmer of hope in a victim’s eyes before gouging their eyes out. He let the killing take over him, control him. The more extreme, the better—he’d proven that in Burma.

  No, not Burma. Not now.

  ‘So you just expect me to let you go? Let this family walk? That’s how it works to you, is it? Just because you’re Raymond’s little favourite, eh?’

  Jared shook his head. ‘I don’t expect anything from you, and I’m not going to beg.’

  ‘Good,’ he said. ‘Good. Well we’ll have to… let’s say, up the stakes a little bit, won’t we? You see, I like a beggar. I just like that. I’ve never seen you beg before. I want to see you beg. Just give me a bit of it.’ He smirked at Jared, rubbing his tongue across his teeth. ‘Johnny, bring the fucker through.’

  More shuffling in the corridor. Brian began to move again as somebody yanked him to his feet, pulling him away from Cindy’s body. She lay motionless on the floor, her hand resting against her stomach.

  Carl’s little sister.

  Brian winced as two of the men dragged him into the room. One of them tugged at his blood-mangled hair where the gun had cracked against him, and he yelped back to full consciousness. Frank grabbed his arm and threw him on to the ground, resting his black boot on his back. ‘Brian. Your name’s Brian, isn’t it?’ he asked, leaning down towards his body, on all fours.

  Brian mumbled and whimpered, moving his head around.

  Frank nodded at one of the other men, who pulled him up to his feet, holding a gun to his back. ‘Speak up, man! I’m trying to give you a chance here. Your name is Brian, right?’

  ‘Ye—yes it is,’ Brian said, unsure of where to look.

  Frank smiled and gestured for one of the other men to walk over to Jared. The other man was shorter and a little scrawnier than the other three. Jared backed up against the wall as much as he could as the man tugged his head back, exposing his neck.

  Frank pulled out a handheld video camera and slipped it around his wrist. ‘We don’t have long but we made sure we got here nice and early so we could fuck you up a little bit.’ He shoved the camera into Jared’s face. ‘That’s only fair, right? So, ladies and gentlemen, for tonight’s entertainment…’

  ‘Please, Frank,’ Jared said. His heart raced. He couldn’t help but beg. ‘Please. Just let him go. It doesn’t have to be like this.’

  Frank chuckled and kissed Jared on the cheek. ‘You clearly don’t know me as well as you thought you did, sunshine.’ He stepped back towards Brian, who struggled as the two men behind him held his arms behind his back. ‘Brian, that man over there came into your home and disguised as someone else all because he wanted to kill you. Your wife, your kid—all of you.’

  Brian tried to throw himself at the camera but didn’t get far. The men behind him pulled him right back. ‘You… killed my fucking girlfriend. You killed my fucking baby.’

  Frank nodded and tilted his face sympathetically. ‘Look, man—shit happens. If you’d answered the door, we could’ve got this done with. If shitface over there had done this properly, it would’ve been a lot easier. We could’ve dealt with your bitch in a… in a different way. That’s disappointing, but what happens happens.’

  Brian tried to throw himself at Frank again as Jared watched on, tied to the pole. Everything seemed to unfold in fast-forward, a high-definition dreamlike quality about the room. Just finish it. Finish it.

  ‘What I want to do is give you an opportunity,’ Frank said. ‘An opportunity to change things and to sort out your problems.’ Frank scratched his beard again before pulling a pair of small scissors out of his pocket. They were the kind of scissors one would cut their nails with. One of the ends was blunt and there was visible rust forming around the handle.

  Frank circled Brian with the camera, dangling the scissors from his middle finger. ‘Now before you get any crazy ideas, I want you to hear my proposal: This man here—Jared—is going to be let off the hook. Fucking sick, I know. I don’t think he should be allowed to do this again. I’m with you on that. Completely fucking sympathetic towards you. So you can put that right, or at least, help put it right.’

  Jared’s fists clenched as Frank dangled the scissors from his finger. He tried to speak but his throat was completely numb. Deep breaths. Deep—One, Two—deep breaths. He fumbled around with his hands behind his back but the man behind him smacked him in his cheek, the taste of metal working its way into the back of his throat.

  ‘You see, I don’t think Jared here should be able to close his eyes when he does all the shit he does. He should see what he does, right? It’s only fair. You with me, man?’

  Brian’s jaw shook, his cheeks dripping with sweat. ‘I’m not doing anything for you.’

  Frank shut his eyes and nodded, letting out a laughing sigh. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘Right, I figured you’d say that. It could have been a lot easier, but hell—your call. Which is why we’ve got some… let’s call it an incentive for you.’ He swung towards the door with his camera as the man behind Brian grabbed his arms and constricted his movement. ‘Bring him in,’ he shouted.

  There was more shuffling outside as everyone turned to face the door.

  No, he couldn’t. He was supposed to be… no. No.

  Carl was being pushed into the room by a man much bigger and wider than him. A blindfold rested against his eyes, a little smile across his face. He looked completely calm, in a zombiefied trance.

  Brian threw himself towards the door as Jared’s entire body went limp. The man behind Brian pulled him back again. ‘Carl,’ Brian said. ‘Carl, don’t—don’t you dare touch him. Don’t you dare let them touch you, Carl. Please, Carl.’

  In Carl’s hand, the little Ferrari Jared had bought him, tight between his fingers.

  Frank turned the camera back to Brian. The excitement was growing in his eyes as he sauntered about the room. ‘Now listen, listen, man—nothing will happen to your son if you do what we say.’ He placed the scissors into Brian’s palm.

  ‘Carl, please… please don’t—don’t let them touch you, Carl.’

  ‘He’ll have trouble hearing you,’ Frank said, staring over at Carl as he stood in his blindfold. ‘Old mix our boss came up with. He’s out of it, so no worrying, nothing like that. Like a walking nightmare, that’s all it’ll be.’

  Brian sobbed as he turned around the room, searching desperately for some sort of escape.

  ‘Make that man see his crimes,’ Frank said. ‘Make him stand out. Cut his fucking eyelids off.’

  Brian’s eyes caught Jared’s. That glimmer, he knew what it was. ‘Could I?’ That contemplation. Usually, that’s all it took to tip someone over the edge.

  ‘Please, Brian,’ Jared said. He tried to shuffle backwards, to disappear into the wal
l behind him, but there was nowhere to go. The man behind him gripped his hair, searing pain cutting through his tender scalp.

  Brian was still in the middle of the room, the scissors alien in his hand. He turned to Frank, then to Carl, then back to Jared. ‘And… and you promise you’ll—you’ll let us go if… you promise?’

  Frank grinned. ‘Of course. I’m a man of my word.’

  ‘He’s lying, Brian,’ Jared shouted, his throat dry. ‘You’re—there’s no way out. You just—’ Something hard smacked into his jaw, cracking his cheekbone. A stream of hot, metallic blood flushed into his mouth before trickling between his teeth and gushing onto the floor.

  Brian took a deep, shaky breath and nodded to himself before taking several confident steps in Jared’s direction.

  Jared’s heart raced. He thought of his sister and wondered how she was doing and wished she was here to tell him that everything was going to be okay and that it’d be over soon. He took deep breaths through his nose right into his chest. ‘Please,’ he begged, but his words were barely audible, caught in the back of his throat. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.

  This was happening.

  Brian stepped towards Jared like a zombie as Frank looked on, trying to contain the grin spreading across his face as his shaking hands gripped the video camera. Jared opened his eyes again and met Brian’s. Carl’s confused little head tilted around the room, trying to see through the blindfold in a drugged-up haze.

  ‘Brian, you—you don’t have to do this,’ Jared said. He rubbed his bound hands along the floor behind him. He just needed something—anything—to get him out.

  Nothing but dust.

  ‘I don—I don’t have a choice….’ Brian said. His eyes were pitiful. Almost instantly, he inhaled sharply, widening his eyes, as if he were battling with multiple personalities. ‘No—don’t fucking talk. Keep your fucking mouth shut.’ He crouched down opposite Jared and opened the rusting scissors.

  Jared squeezed his eyes shut. This couldn’t be happening. Raymond would not let this happen. When he found out, he’d kill Frank, and he’d—he’d punish them for this.