I take a big whiff. “Smells like a great evening for torture.” Crux and Monroe chuckle behind me. “Did you really think you’d get by with shooting my mother? Seriously? What else have you been keeping from us? Kill someone we don’t know about or try to have someone else killed?” Calan does some grunting, and I more or less ignore him. I really don’t need to hear anything he has to say. “It kills you that the man that raised me made you swear that president would be my title and not yours.” There is some more grunting. “I don’t need to hear it. I’m not a stupid man Calan. Unlike you, I knew who I could trust. Now see, you always seem to think you are God’s gift to women. Because of that, I figure we should bronze you. Well, not bronze. I’m thinking something more worthless. Since you’ve been a lead weight around my neck.” I tap the pot filled with molten lead. “Fitting, no?” I nod to Monroe, who’s got on a pair of yellow latex gloves and is now handing me a pair of thick leather ones. As I slip them on, he pulls out a taser.
“This is gonna suck for you.” Monroe sing-songs as he turns it to the lowest setting and clips Calan’s nuts. Calan twists and growls as his flaccid cock goes erect. Monroe sheathes it with a little burlap and saran wrap baggie he made. Once the rubber band is secure, it’s time to apply the lead.
Cries and whimpers erupt from the sperm donor as the liquid metal is applied. He dares to pass out, but another jolt has him awake and the lead smoking. Seems he’s pissed himself, and from the smell, probably shit too.
The boat cruises along as I leave him to marinate and set. Taking Crux with me, I go to see just what Conor has for me before I decide what we’re gonna do to him.
“Hello, you yellow-bellied cock sucker.” I sneer as Conor tries to approach me, only to have Crux pull his 9mm and keep the asshole at a distance. It’s then that I see Doctor Fitzsimmons, the oncologist of the only man I will ever acknowledge as my father. I tilt my head curiously, seeing the blood and bruises on him. “The fuck is this guy doing here?”
“Saint, I need you to hear him out. You deserve to know the truth.” Conor pleads. “I had my suspicions, and I was right. God help me for my silence.”
Suspicions? Silence? I turn my back on the two men knowing Crux won’t let either near me. FUCK! After finally mentally preparing myself for the worst, I turn back to the men. “Spill your fucking guts.”
My blood boils as I listen to the oncologist admit to poisoning and aiding Calan in slowly murdering my father. I hold back the rage tears, grabbing Conor as Crux grabs Fitzsimmons. Conor tries to fight, but I slug him, dragging him topside. I watch the water as it swirls. Drysten has been chumming, and the darkened waters are already running red. What’s a little more?
Taking the shotgun from the edge of the stern, I don’t hesitate in blowing the coward off the deck. Fitzsimmons cries.
“P-please do-don’t. I-” He gurgles as I cut his fucking throat, getting hit by the arterial spray. I turn to Crux and Drysten, tucking the shotgun under my arm. As the body is poured into the shark-infested waters.
“Time to see how many inches of iron my sperm donor can take before I blow his asshole out through his mouth.”