I laugh. “Sounds like a plan.”
TROUBLE
KEEPING MY STEPS LIGHT, I walk to the back door of a modern house and wait the two minutes JW needs to deactivate the alarm. I have no doubt that he’ll be successful. My brothers and I are good at what we do. Not only is JW the Sheriff of Malus, he’s damn good with wires.
It’s dark out, close to midnight, but there’s a couple of lights on inside, so I know Ryland is still awake.
I look down at my watch and see that time is up. Ryland, being the stupid fucker he is, hasn’t even locked his back door. I twist the knob slowly with my gloved hand and push the door open before silently closing it behind me.
I stalk quietly across the kitchen floor until I come to the doorway. I peek around the corner that I know leads to a hallway, which will take me to the den and the living room beyond. Emo forwarded the blueprints of the house to my phone, so we know the full layout.
The hallway is dark, but there’s a soft light emitting from the doorway just ahead. Once I make it to the entry way, I look around the frame to see Ryland with his back facing me sitting at a desk looking at a computer monitor. The lights are off, except for the monitor. Movement has me looking up, and I notice a dark shadow in the other doorway.
JW.
I move my gaze back to Ryland, and it’s not until then I notice what’s on the computer screen. Intense rage lashes through my system at the same time bile rises in my throat. My hands twitch to wrap around his throat and watch life fade from his eyes. Looks like the bastard hasn’t changed.
JW sees it too because his eyes are hard when I look back at him.
Moving slowly, I walk around the doorframe. The flooring is carpeted, which aids in my quest to be as quiet as possible. It’s doesn’t really matter if he becomes alerted to us as the houses here are so spread out and most people are asleep at this time of night.
I creep up behind him. JW’s behind me to the left. When I’m five feet away, I stop. The fucking bastard has his dick in his hand as he watches a video of an old man having sex with a girl who can’t be any older than twelve. Something catches my eye on the video, and I look closer. It’s fucking Ryland who’s hurting the girl.
I hold in the growl that’s trying to break free and close the remaining steps until I’m directly behind him. He’s so engrossed in the screen and jacking his nasty junk that he doesn’t even sense the danger approaching. The volume is low, but I still hear the cries coming from the screen and it leaves my body shaking with savage fury.
“I see you haven’t changed one bit, Ryland,” I say with a deceptively calm voice.
He startles, and the hand wrapped around his dick hits the underside of the desk, knocking the keyboard to the floor. The space bar must have been pressed in the fall because the screen pauses. He whips around, eyes wide with fright, and covers himself. The old bastard is a lot more wrinkly than I remember.
“Who in the hell are you?” he asks, his voice shaky. His eyes dart back to the monitor before sliding back to me.
“Too late, old man. We saw the sick shit you were watching.” My lip curls up in disgust.
“W-we?” he stutters.
JW steps out from behind me, putting himself in the light from the monitor. I can feel the heat from his rage coming off him.
“What are you doing in my house? Get out before I call the cops!”
A twisted laugh leaves my lips, and I take a step toward him. “And how would you explain what’s on your computer? No—” I shake my head, “—you won’t be calling anyone.”
His eyes narrow and he leans forward. “I know you from somewhere,” he says slowly. His eyes flicker to JW. “I recognize you both.”
“I sure as fuck would hope so, Mr. Parish,” JW growls.
Ryland jerks back in his chair at the use of his old name. Back when we were kids, his name was Ryland Parish. Ironically enough, he was the pastor of Sweet Haven. Once he left, he changed his last name to Roberts.
It only takes him a minute for him to realize only people in Sweet Haven would know his real name.
“Wait,” he starts, recognition dawning on his face, his eyes widening with shock. “E-elijah?” His eyes move to JW next. “Liam.”
“Surprise, surprise, motherfucker,” JW says darkly.
Ryland’s throat convulses as he swallows several times, looking nervous as he sits in his chair with his dick covered by his hand and a computer screen paused on a girl being raped. His expression tells it all. He knows he’s fucked.
Right as he jackknifes off the chair to make his escape, I reach out and grip him by his throat and swing him around to slam him down on the table behind me.
“JW, pull his shorts off the rest of the way.”