Bronson
Present day
As I standon the edge of the jagged cliff, pissing into the estuary, the dense hot air strokes my cock. "You know, you always were my favourite," I say to the dead corpse to my right. The sound of my piss permeating the rippling water and the shuffling of rocks moving beneath my boots are the only sounds for miles. "Fuck, it's peaceful here. Not a bad place to die." The dome above me twinkles, the clusters of stars so fucking clear, they illuminate the whole environment - reflecting in the water, creating another dimension within its dark depths.
I shake my cock before stuffing it back into my jeans and pulling the zipper up. Twisting to face Salvatore, his big brown eyes still wide with shock, horror, and betrayal, I release a long, rough breath. "At least I shot you quick." I nod to myself. "Mate, it was painless. Don't look at me like that."
I take a few steps to kneel by his side. The scent of his blood and urine invades my senses. Poor bastard. I study him. Good looking lad. Total dickhead but not a bad mug on him. I lightly slap his cheek in a playful gesture, a kind of acknowledgement. I'll miss him. "Goodnight, cuz." I lean down and press my lips to his forehead.
My heart swells. It's not from remorse nor even guilt. Not today. For them, I'd kill my cousin again in a heartbeat. It's something else entirely. A moment of clarity. Of sadness. A reminder of mortality in all its grim certainty.
"Do you remember that time we stole Jimmy's Lamborghini? We went over that fucking bump and its guts fell out. He locked us in his basement for a week, fed us nothing but fucking rice. Good times." I laugh to myself.
Sal laughs too - wherever he is.
I'm sure of it.
He was scared-as-shit when it happened, but eventually, he laughed about it.
Patting him on the shoulder, I stand and get to work.
I grab the chicken wire from beside me. Red dirt flicks over Sal's body, sticking to the viscous fluids oozing from the two gaping holes in his chest. I shot him at close range. We were eye to eye, chatting about his fucking glorious adventures in India.
He had just got back.
I lay the wire down beside him. Grabbing his shoulder and his hip, I roll his limp, sluggish body onto it. The wire protests as I wrap it over him, blanketing his whole body. I kneel on him and pull the other side of it up, creating a tight cage around him. I fix it together with cable ties.
Standing, I stare down at my handiwork. That corpse won't be floating anytime soon. As bodily gasses release, the body will bloat, but the wire will shred his flesh, opening pockets of his skin, allowing the air to escape. Fish will eat him.
It's the circle of life, really. Beautiful in a way. And then, after a while, all that will be left in that cage will be his bones.
The quiet is suddenly interrupted by the chiming of my phone, alarming me to the exact time. Smiling, I consider my options. I really should just fucking get him in the water, sink him quick, and walk away - get going.
But instead, I grab my burn phone, punch in the number - a number I know by heart - and wait to hearthatvoice. I've been in Darwin for a few weeks now and I'm going fucking crazy without seeing her. The dial tone drops, and her sweet, high-pitched cadence massages my ear, dragging me away from the ominous scene at my feet.
"Daddy said bad word."
I gasp in a mock display of shock. "He what? What word did he say, Outlaw?"
"The F one," Kelly says, sounding so serious, her voice as curt as a three-year-old's can be. I can imagine her with a crazy pile of golden-blonde hair on her crown, shuffling her little pink bunny slippers on the glossy marble tiles. Imagine Cassidy warming up a glass of milk for her. Max watches them as though they are both feathers balancing on the wind, their presence so fragile and precious. He still doesn't believe he deserves them. He's a damn fool; my beautiful brother deserves all the happiness in this magnificent world. All the love a woman like Cassidy can offer. The love my little outlaw gives freely and without judgment - just like her mummy.
I tilt my head as if she can see me. "You meanfrog?"
She giggles, the lovely sound pulsing my heart, provoking it to beat hard and fast. I thought I understood love. I've loved hard. I've loved to the point of blinding pain.
And I love my brothers.
But the day my stunning, gentle sister-in-law walked into our house with a bundle of pink blankets in her arms and a baby tucked protectively inside, I loved harder still.
Fuck me.
Kelly. . .the third great love of my life.
"No, not that one," she sings.
Laughing, I kick Sal's body, rolling it towards the cliff, towards his wet, salty grave. "Froyo?"
She giggles harder. "No."