The Law of Retaliation Read online

  Caden tilted his head, baffled. He could sense the sincerity behind Ryan's threat. The man was willing to kill him. The violent teenager was willing to accept the challenge.

  Caden leaned on the door and said, “Your daughter is dead. You want vengeance. So, why won't you come out? Huh? I'm here. I'm within your grasps, Ryan. Are you still scared of lil' ol' me? Are you scared of my father? My friends? Tell me: what scares you the most?”

  As his son tormented the couple, Owen leaned closer to Caden's ear and whispered, “Keep them busy. I'm going to find the keys.”

  Caden continued, “What are you going to do if you get your hands on me? Are you going to... to shoot me in the chest? You know, like the girl? What was her name? Lucy? Lucky? No, no. That's a dog's name. Well, if she came from that spic you're with, she probably was a dog. Some sort of subhuman species, you know?”

  Ryan and Alexa slinked away from the door, grimacing in disgust. They listened to Caden's racist drivel. However, they could also hear the floorboards in the hallway—someone else was leaving. The racists were planning something. Ryan and Alexa glanced at each other, worried.

  Chapter Eight

  Fight or Die

  The couple backed away from the door, stepping in reverse until they reached the bed. Ryan quickly turned as soon as the back of his legs collided with the mattress. He sighed in relief. It's only the bed, he thought. As he glanced up at the wall above the bed, he thought: and it's only Hitler.

  Alexa thought about sitting on the mattress to catch her breath, but she couldn't find comfort on the bed of her child's killer. She whimpered and shook her head, still shocked about the situation.

  The parents gazed into each other's eyes, lost in thoughts of madness. Their plan was derailed, the tables were turned. Yet, they couldn't quit. They were afflicted with pain and sorrow. Their tormented souls called for vengeance. In order for them to die in peace, Caden's blood had to be spilled and Lucia had to be avenged.

  In a soft tone, just above a whisper, Ryan said, “I'm not running. I can't run. I have to get this bastard, Alexa. I've been waiting too long for this. I've been dreaming about it ever since... ever since that day. I have to kill him. I won't blame you if you want to leave. It's okay.”

  Alexa shook her head and responded, “How dare you?” Ryan cocked his head back, visibly confused. Alexa said, “I'm not going anywhere. I might not be as strong as you, I might be scared, but I'm not giving up. I'm going to stick to the plan until it's over. Lucia... Lucia never did anything wrong in her life. Sh–She... She didn't deserve to die like that. She deserves justice. Caden has to die.”

  As he gazed into his wife's teary eyes, Ryan nodded in agreement. He was encouraged by Alexa's determination.

  Ryan caressed her brow and said, “Okay, okay. We'll get him. We'll get him and anyone that gets in our way. And we won't stop killing until we kill that bastard. Yeah, yeah... we can do this.”

  Caden banged on the door and shouted, “Hey! What are you two up to? Huh? I can hear you whispering. Or... are you crying in there? Hmm? Are you still crying over that girl's death? Really? Come on, get over it, you snowflakes. It's been two years.”

  “Shut up!” Ryan barked as he turned his attention to the door. He shouted, “Shut your fucking mouth!”

  Caden laughed and stepped away from the door. His laughter was maniacal, echoing through the home. He even held his hands over his mouth, as if he had just laughed out loud during a quiet class.

  Ryan turned towards Alexa and whispered, “We need weapons and we need a plan.”

  “Okay. There... There has to be something we can use around here.”

  They glanced around the room. Ryan stumbled towards the desk. He found a pack of cigarettes and a stainless steel lighter on the desk. The cigarettes were useless since he couldn't wait a lifetime for Caden to contract cancer. The lighter opened more doors than a game show host, though.

  He opened the top drawer of the desk. His eyes widened upon spotting a pair of scissors. He pulled the scissors out of the drawer and held them up to his face. He opened and closed the scissors, ensuring they functioned properly.

  Dastardly ideas stampeded across his mind—cut 'em up.

  Alexa looked through the drawers on the nightstand. In the bottom drawer, she found Caden's socks and underwear. She imagined herself strangling the murderous teenager with his own briefs. Women have been choked with their thongs before, she thought, why can't men be choked with their boxers?

  In the top drawer, she found an old novel, a crucifix, a dime bag of marijuana, rolling papers, and a switchblade. She retrieved the switchblade from the drawer. With a push of the button, a three-inch blade protruded from the silver handle. She pressed the button again, causing the blade to retract.

  As she shoved the switchblade into her pocket, Alexa asked, “So, what's the plan?”

  “Did you find a weapon?” Ryan asked.

  Alexa patted her pocket and said, “A pocket knife. It's small, but it'll do. So, what's the plan?”

  Ryan rubbed the nape of his neck as he glanced around the room. Truth be told, he didn't have any ideas. As a matter of fact, he was more concerned about his wife's puny weapon than about forming a plan. Three inches could only get someone so far. His eyes stopped at a window at the other end of the room. An idea started forming, falling together like building blocks.

  He stumbled past the bed. He pushed the curtains aside and lifted the blinds. He smiled as he peeked through the clean glass. The trellis on the side of the house reached up to the window.

  As Caden babbled in the hallway, Ryan pulled Alexa closer to the window and whispered, “Okay. Here's the plan. You're going to climb down from here, okay? You're smaller than me, so they won't hear you and the trellis won't fall apart. When you get down there, you can either sneak up on them or... or go get help. I'll let you decide. Sound good?”

  Alexa stared out the window. The plan was dangerous, but their options were limited. She took a deep breath and nodded in agreement. Ryan returned the nod. He rubbed his wife's shoulder, trying his best to comfort her. Their animosity towards each other dwindled throughout the night. They still loved each other.

  Ryan grimaced as he pulled on the window. The frame rattled and screeched with the slight tug. It was a short but loud sound. If it lasted longer than a second, Caden would have surely heard the ruckus. Their plan required stealth, so they couldn't risk alarming everyone in the house.

  Ryan held his index finger over his lip—shh. He pointed at himself, then at the bedroom door, and then at the window, as if to say: I'll keep them busy while you open the window. He communicated without uttering a sound—and Alexa understood him.

  Ryan returned to the bedroom door. Interrupting Caden's babbling, Ryan asked, “Caden, why'd you stop us that night? Why'd you pick us?”

  Caden leaned on the wall and responded, “I don't know what you're talking about, man. There were no... targets. It was all a big misunderstanding. That's why I'm not in prison. I didn't do anything wrong.”

  “Why us? What was it about us, Caden? Or were you stopping everyone that drove by? Huh? Is that it? You stopped them, checked if they were white enough to pass, then you continued with your night? What? We didn't pass your test or something?”

  “Like I said: I don't know what you're talking about, mister. It was a misunderstanding. Come on, say it with me: mis-under-standing. I know you're in love with that beaner, but don't let her ruin your ability to speak English. We're still in America, man. Remember that.”

  Ryan nodded as he glanced around the room. He watched as Alexa slowly opened the window, inch-by-inch. She was almost ready to climb out, but she couldn't move if Ryan wasn't talking.

  As he stared at the poster above the bed, Ryan asked, “What is it about Hitler that you admire so much, Caden?”

  “Hitler... Well, if you really want to know, open the door and let's talk about it. I think you could use a history lesson.”

  Ryan chuckled
, then he said, “I don't think so. You admire him and you don't even bother to try to hide it. You've got balls, kid. You know, Hitler probably liked being pissed on, right? Hell, they say he might have even liked being shit on—literally. You probably like that, too, don't you? You racist sack of shit.”

  Caden laughed, then he said, “That isn't going to work. I'm not an idiot. I know the game you're trying to play. 'Insult his idols, he'll get angry and lose his shit.' You have to understand something, though: I don't give a fuck. Words... Words only hurt snowflakes and cucks. You can't play these mind games with me. Hell, man, do you really think I care about what a traitor like you thinks about me?”

  From the doorway of the neighboring bedroom, Nathaniel shouted, “That's right! You're a fucking traitor and a coward! Come out! Come get some!”

  Ryan sighed in relief as Alexa climbed out of the window. He could barely hear her grunting as she climbed down the wooden trellis.

  Ryan laughed, then he asked, “Who's that with you, Caden? Is that one of your boyfriends?”

  Nathaniel marched to the door and shouted, “Fuck you, you rat bastard! You think this is a fucking game?” He punched the door, cracking the wood with his mighty blow. He barked, “I'm going to teach you a lesson you'll never forget, traitor! I'm going to rape your girl, then I'm going to fuck you with a broomstick! I'm going to fuck you with that stick until it comes out of your mouth and you taste your own shit. You hear me, you faggot?”

  “Fuck off,” Ryan casually said.

  As the racists continued to yell and bang on the door, Ryan slinked his way to the window. He peeked out the opening—Alexa nearly reached the bottom. Since the thugs were creating so much noise in the corridor, he seized the opportunity and quickly closed the window. He closed the blinds and curtains, too, covering his wife's trail.

  He whispered, “Good luck, sweetie. Good luck...”

  Chapter Nine

  The First Attack

  Ryan closed his eyes and breathed deeply, mentally preparing himself for the next step. He was focused solely on his controlled breathing. For a moment—a second that felt like an hour—he was whisked away from the house. The screaming and the banging became muffled. He took another deep breath, then he opened his eyes.

  He was ready.

  Ryan returned to the bedroom door. He said, “Let's talk, Caden. Let's forget about all of this racist bullshit, let's forget about your buddy's insecurities, let's forget about... about everything in this damn house.”

  Caden and Nathaniel stopped screaming. The intruder caught their undivided attention.

  Ryan said, “I want to know about that night. No more jokes, no more games. Tell me: why did you kill her? Why did you...” He paused and stared down at the floor as a lump formed in his throat. He loudly swallowed the lump, then he asked, “Why did you murder my daughter?”

  With a sly smirk on his face, Caden said, “We've been through this, Ryan. Mis-under-standing. It was a misunderstanding. I didn't touch that girl. I mean, you remember the court case, right? Under oath, you couldn't identify the shooter. Remember? 'It was too dark,' you said. Those were your words, not mine.”

  Tears dripping from his eyes, Ryan said, “I know it was you.”

  “You don't know anything, mister. You don't know a goddamn thing.”

  Owen walked down the hallway and approached the men. He changed from his slippers to his steel-toe boots. He held a key ring with ten keys up to his chest, hoping they wouldn't jingle and alarm the intruder. Caden and Nathaniel grinned from ear-to-ear—let the games begin. The group glanced over at the stairs upon hearing the front door. Natalie's muffled voice emerged from the kitchen—hello—and a group of men responded.

  As he gazed down the stairs, Caden said, “Our backup has arrived. Welcome home, boys.”

  Vincent had finally arrived with the reinforcements Owen requested—Jessie and Reece. Jessie was aware of the situation. He was part of the first incident after all. Reece didn't know Ryan, Alexa, or Lucia. Frankly, he didn't care about them or their situation.

  A perpetual scowl on his face, Reece was a vicious young man—26 years old, to be exact. His crystal blue eyes were sharp and deviant. His eyebrows were blonde, practically blending with his milky-white skin. A large swastika was tattooed on the back of his head. Like his peers, he wore a flight jacket, a faded t-shirt, and tattered jeans with braces. His steel-toe boots, however, were tied with blood-red laces.

  Caden took the keys and nodded at his father, as if to say: I've got this. He glanced over at his peers, a grin plastered on his face. Like a misbehaving child, he had trouble controlling his excitement. He carefully shoved the key into the lock. Before he could turn it, the other keys on the key ring clinked and clanked.

  Ryan's eyes widened as he heard the jingling. The sound—a normal, everyday noise—drilled into his ears like nails on a chalkboard. Time slowed to a crawl. Beads of sweat raced down his brow, his heart rapidly pounded in his chest. The golden door knob turned ever so slowly. As the door cracked open, time returned to its regular pace.

  Ryan rushed forward and rammed the door with his shoulder. Caden staggered in reverse as the door slammed shut. Ryan tried to turn the lock, but to no avail. As a unit, the neo-Nazis tackled the door. Owen and Caden rammed the door with their shoulders while Nathaniel banged on the door over Caden's head. Jessie and Reece stood behind the group, ready to rush into the room at a moment's notice. Vincent stood at the top of the stairs, watching in fear.

  The door burst open again.

  Ryan slipped and slid as he tried to push back. He leaned forward on the door, his face and shoulder planted on the wood. His boots slid across the floor, though. With each push, he was able to close the door an inch. However, with each push from the group in the hall, the racists were able to push the door open two inches.

  Ryan's mind was overwhelmed by the event. It was jarring, causing him to feel disoriented. The men in the hallway shouted racist obscenities at him, but he couldn't hear them. He could only hear his thumping heart. He could see their arms and hands in the doorway, but he couldn't recognize them. Who's who?–he thought.

  Ryan tightly closed his eyes and shouted, “Damn it!”

  He couldn't hold them back. He stumbled away from the door as the men poured into the bedroom. He slipped into the Jack & Jill bathroom and locked the door behind him, barely evading the horde of bloodthirsty neo-Nazis.

  Out of breath and drenched in sweat, Ryan staggered towards the parallel door—the door leading into the neighboring bedroom. He opened the door and stopped in the doorway. Again, time slowed to a crawl.

  He spotted Jessie and Reece in the opposite doorway, barely entering the bedroom. He remembered Jessie from that night, but he didn't recognize Reece. Only one thought ran through his mind: oh, shit, there's more of them. From the split-second glance, he could tell Reece was different. The young man was a beast—a feral animal trained to kill.

  Ryan closed the door and turned the lock. He fell down to his ass as the racists banged on the door. He glanced over his shoulder and stared at the other door—more banging. He was surrounded by a gang of neo-Nazis. He staggered to his feet as he examined the room. In front of him, there were two sinks, two mirrors, and a few cabinets. Behind him, there was a bathtub, which also functioned as a shower. There were no windows in the room.

  He pulled the scissors out of his pocket and glanced at the doors, uncertain of which door they would try to open next. He held the scissors with both hands, pointing the blades away from his body.

  As he swung the scissors from side-to-side, Ryan muttered, “Oh, shit. I'm... I'm trapped. I'm fucking cornered. What do I do? What the hell do I do?”

  Owen ran his fingers through his hair as he approached the bathroom door in Caden's room. He was visibly frustrated by the situation. Their target ran from one dead-end to another. He pushed his son and Nathaniel away from the door.

  Ensuring the men in the other bedroom could hear him, Owen shouted
, “Settle down, settle down! We're not animals. We're men, so we'll act like men!”

  Ryan wiped the sweat from his brow as the doors stopped rattling. The second floor of the house was quiet. He turned towards the door leading to Caden's bedroom, the scissors bouncing as his hands trembled.

  Owen said, “Listen up, you two.”

  Ryan smiled upon hearing his words, relieved. He thinks Alexa is still with me, he thought, at least she's safe.

  Owen said, “I think you know this already, but... you're trapped. You're not getting out of there without bumping into us. Now, you probably could have smashed through the floor or through a wall with that sledgehammer y'all brought with you, but that's downstairs, isn't it? So, let's stop wasting time and let's get down to business. We plan on hurting you, just like you hurt me and my wife. We still have an opportunity to talk, though. You have my word on that—and I'm a man of my word. I don't want to have to kick these doors open or sneak around. No, let's do this the easy way—the honorable way. Open the door so we can deal with this like gentlemen.”

  Ryan nervously chuckled and shook his head. He didn't find any humor in the situation. He laughed in disbelief, shocked by the racist's audacity. Trusting a neo-Nazi hellbent on murder was like trusting a pedophile at a daycare. He knew he was marked for death.

  Caden leaned closer to the door and said, “I can hear you laughing in there, Ryan. You know, in the two years that I've known you, I don't think I've ever heard you laugh. It's... It's sweet. It's innocent. I hope you're laughing like that when we're skull-fucking your bitch, when we're ripping her asshole apart with our cocks, when we shank her and fuck all of her cuts. You're going to watch it all, too, Ryan. Then we might just kill both of you.” Ryan stopped laughing as he glared at the door. Caden smiled and said, “It's not so funny now, is it? Tell your bitch to cry for me. Come on, I want to hear her cry. It's music to my ears.”

  Ryan sat on the edge of the bathtub, disgusted by Caden's vulgar threats. He was awed by his sheer depravity. He trembled and breathed deeply through his nose, trying to fight the urge to cry. I can't let that happen, he thought, I have to protect Alexa. He glanced over at the other door as the knob rattled. Jessie and Reece fiddled with the doorknob, but they couldn't enter the room.