Erica Spindler: In Silence

"At first I meant to help her. To convince her to be quiet, not to tell anyone about the affair or about Mom.

"She laughed at us," Matt continued. "She laughed at me. How was I going to like seeing his father's bastard take his place in their home? Seeing all of them made a laughingstock. She called me stupid, Avery. Me. Can you imagine that? And the whole time she's bleeding all over the place. Struggling not to pass out." He made a sound of disgust. "Like she's the one in charge.

"She wouldn't shut up," he went on. "I begged her to. I was crying. She laughed at me…the things she said were so ugly. So…vile.

"So I shut her up. I put my hands over her nose and mouth and pressed and pressed until she didn't say anything anymore."

Avery shuddered, recalling her image of earlier, of Matt choking the life out of her.

"It felt good," he murmured, a small smile tipping the corners of his mouth. "I felt powerful. Unbeatable."

He leaned toward her. "Power, Avery. My hands. I always knew I was special. I saw things, understood things others didn't. Things regular people couldn't. As I watched her die, I knew that I was meant to lead. That I had the power over life and death."

Avery stared at him, mouth dry, heart hammering. Horrified. That summer…they had been together back then. They had seen each other every day-had been physically intimate. She had considered spending her life with him.

She would have sworn she knew everything about him.

She hadn 't known him at all.

She found her voice. It shook. "So my dad knew you-"

"Killed her? No." He shook his head. "Dad found me there. He promised to protect me. To take care of everything. Told me to get out of there, to keep it to myself."

"He never told anyone, did he? Not even Lilah."

He grinned. She found something about the way his lips stretched over his teeth more terrifying than if he had growled. "He was going to save me. That's a hoot, isn't it? He was going to save me? But over the years he has served his purpose. In a limited way, he shared my vision."

In a lightning-quick change of mood, his eyes filled with tears. "We could have been a family," he said. "We could have had children together, grown old together."

The thought that she had imagined that very thing, not long ago, made her ill. She hid her true feelings as best she could. "It's not too late, Matt. Let me go. I won't make any trouble, we can be together."

He looked away, then back. "I'm really sorry, Avery. I didn't want this to happen. None of it. But in a conflict one must sacrifice individual wants and needs for the good of the many."

She caught her breath at his meaning. "It's not too late, I can change. I see now. I understand what you're fighting for."

He bent and pressed his mouth to hers in a hard kiss. One that smacked of finality. "It's not about me, Avery. Not about what I feel or what I want. The generals have called for action. They've voted."

"But you're their leader. They'll do what you-"

"I can't take my eyes off the big picture." He cradled her face in his palms. "No matter how much I want to."

"What are you going to do to me? Kill me? The way you killed Elaine St. Claire and Trudy Pruitt?" Her voice quivered. "The way you killed Gwen?"

He didn't deny it. "I don't enjoy the killing. I do it because it's a necessity. Because-"

From the doorway came the soft click of a gun's hammer falling into place. "Off the bed, son."

Matt twisted, hand going to his weapon.

"Try it and you're dead," the older man warned.

"You will be, too." Matt's hand hovered over his weapon. "And poor Avery will lie on this bed and rot."

Buddy's aim didn't waver. "Drop the fucking gun. To the floor. Now!"

Matt hesitated, then slid the weapon from his waistband and tossed it to the floor.

"Good boy. Now, off the bed. Hands up." He motioned with the gun. "To the wall."

Matt lifted his hands, climbed off the bed. "Think this through, Dad. Don't make a mistake."

Buddy moved into the room, gun trained on his son. "Hands on the wall." When Matt obeyed, Buddy bent, never talking his gaze from the other man, retrieved the gun and slid it into his waistband.

"It's okay, baby girl," he said, inching toward the bed. "Everything's going to be okay."

He freed Avery's hands, then feet. She saw that his cheeks were wet.

She pulled up her pants, then scrambled into a sitting position. After tying the pieces of T-shirt together, she scrambled off the bed and crossed to stand behind Buddy.

"You have to stop, Matt." Buddy took a step toward his son. "The killing has to stop."

Matt turned, held out a hand to his father, expression pleading. "We're in this together. Everything I've done, I've done for us. The family. The community."

Tears trickled down Buddy's cheeks. "You're ill, son. I should have faced it long ago but I didn't want to see. That night…Sallie Waguespack, I thought I was doing the right thing. But it wasn't right. I've been covering up and making excuses all these years. And these past months, pretending I didn't suspect something was wrong."

"It's not me, Dad. It's her. She won't keep quiet. We have to keep her quiet. To protect the family. She's just like Sallie."

"I didn't know, baby girl," Buddy said, voice heavy with pain. "Not about your daddy. Not about the others. I thought…let myself believe it wasn't happening. That all the deaths were just what they appeared to be."

Matt's expression went soft. "What would you have had me do? Phillip was going to the district attorney. The others were going to back him up. Tell everyone about Sallie and The Seven. I only meant to protect us."

"I know. I'm sorry." He removed his handcuffs from the pouch on his utility belt. "I've got to cuff you."

"Don't do it, Dad." His eyes filled with tears. "Please, don't cuff me."

Avery saw the emotional toll this was taking on the older man. She ached for him-the father having to face the consequences of his mistakes and the terrible truth about his own flesh and blood.

"I've got to son. I'm sorry."

Matt held out his arms. "I'll come quietly then. If you believe this is the right thing, I'll do whatever you say."

"I'll protect you as best I can, Matt. Within the law." Buddy lowered his weapon, crossed to his son.

Matt's gaze flicked to Avery's. In his she saw triumph.

"Buddy!" she cried, seeing the switchblade cupped in Mart's palm. "It's a trick!"

Matt lunged forward, catching his father by surprise. The blade popped out. He buried it in the side of Buddy's neck.

"No!" Avery screamed. A look of surprise crossed the older man's face; he reached up to grab the blade. Matt twisted it, then yanked it out. Blood sprayed.

Buddy looked at his son, mouth working. He took a step. Wobbled, then crashed to the floor.

Avery turned to run. Matt grabbed her around the middle, dragged her to his chest and brought the blade to her throat. She saw that his hand was splattered with blood. His father's blood.

"See, Avery? Weak. Stupid." He gazed down at his father's still-twitching form. "And a traitor as well."

She saw no remorse in his expression. No regret. "You're crazy. A psychotic, murdering son of a bitch!"

"I'm a soldier. I'm fighting for something bigger than you or I or an old man who'd forgotten what was important." He bent and retrieved his father's handcuffs. Wrenching an arm behind her back, Matt cuffed one wrist, then the next.

He turned his emotionless gaze on her. "You have been judged and found guilty, Avery Chauvin. Of crimes against this community. Of attempting to bring an end to a way of life that has existed for a century. The Seven will decide your fate."

Avery fought to keep hysteria at bay as Matt forced her deeper into the bowels of the charred canning factory. The odor, simply unpleasant from the outside, turned foul inside. Overpowering, like the stench of the grave.