Nervous.

Afraid.

Relieved.

Excited.

Emotions were thrown into a hat and offered for the siblings to dip their hands in. They could pull one out and try it on for a few heartbeats, before discarding it and checking out another. All the intentions they had were fine but, once Amy had agreed to them, they were finally free to wash through the trio in a rush of sensations that they weren't prepared for.

None of them knew what to say immediately. They'd been busy trying to talk Amy around to saying yes, however they had yet to see where they might go afterwards. Their plans to kill her father or confront him seemed nonsensical now they were able to go ahead with it. Though Amy's agreement wasn't necessarily required, they felt better knowing they had it.

But what now?

"What do we do?" Cassidy asked. "How are we going to make him pay?"

With a mutual, unspoken consensus of forgetting about their previous proposals, Ethan shrugged.

"We're shit," said Jazz. "All bravado and no bollocks."

"I don't see you coming up with anything," complained Ethan.

"I'm including myself in that!"

"Let's ask Amy," Cassidy said. "Maybe she can think of something."

Jazz and Ethan nodded, and they all turned to the mirror.

"Amy, what do you think we should do to your father?"

Kill him.

Please.

Ethan and Jazz stared at each other. Cass couldn't take his eyes off the words on the mirror. It was so blunt. So final. The former pleas to hold back and not get involved were gone. She'd made her decision. Now, they had to follow through with their insistence on helping.

"She did say 'please'," Jazz said jauntily. She shrugged her shoulder. "How can we say no?"

"Fair point," said Ethan. "Manners go a long way."

Cassidy shook his head.

"Are you two nuts?"

"What do you mean?" Jazz asked, frowning.

"Are we really going to do this? Kill a man?"

"Fuck Face, this was all your idea in the first place. You involved us. You can't back down now."

"I'm not going to back down. I'm not. It's just... And I know he deserves it... But it's murder!"

"Is it, though?" Ethan asked.

"What? Oh course it is!"

"But, is it? He's a killer. Is it murder to kill him? Is it murder in war, when a soldier shoots another one? Is it murder when a child molester or gang rapist gets the electric chair?"

"But... they're, like, justified."

"Isn't this?"

"Well..."

"Well, he's a killer. A serial killer, or spree or mass. I forget the difference. It doesn't matter which. The point is, he took the life of your girlfriend and dumped her in a ditch. Fuck knows what he did to her mum. And fuck knows how many times he's done it before or since."

"I know. I do."

"So don't wimp out on us, bro."

Ethan stepped forward and placed his hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Cass, Jazz is right. He'll do it again, I don't doubt it. Amy's been stuck here for years, like a purgatory or limbo, or something. She deserves justice. She deserves fucking revenge."

Cass nodded. He wasn't trying to convince them of anything other than doing what should be done. He wasn't even trying to convince himself. He was willing to take this as far as it needed to go.

"I'm just making sure we're all aware of what this means. We'll be killing someone. We'll have to live with that for the rest of ours lives. And what if we get caught?"

"Well, if we get caught, then we get caught," Jazz said. "And, at least we have lives, right?"

"I'm not talking about why we're doing this. I'm talking about what we're doing."

"We know what we're doing. All of us do. We're doing something the police should have done seven years ago."

Cass sighed and rubbed his face with both hands.

"OK, let's get on with this."

"Where do we start?" Ethan asked. "I haven't killed anyone before. Is there, like, a handbook we can read? A shop that sells all the supplies we need?"

"Murderers Are Us close early today. I think we've missed them."

Cass forced a smile. The levity was always there, making light of the darkness. He should join in. It wouldn't lift his mood, but at least he might be able to see his way.

"We'd probably best not Google it, either. I always forget to clear my browser history."

"Let's go," said Jazz, taking the lead as she usually did.

"Where are we going?"

"Well, I don't think we should knock on the door and just knock him out."

"Yeah, probably not."

"So, I say we scope him out. See what he does and where he goes."

"Like a stake out?"

"Like a stake out."

"Cool!"

"By the way," Cassidy said, punching the arms of his siblings. "Amy isn't my girlfriend."

"Fuck Face," his sister said with a knowing smile. "If she'd have looked at you twice back then, you'd have been on it, and you know it. And, no offence, Amy, if she wasn't dead, you'd still be trying now."

"Fuck off!"

"If you shut up, maybe we can!"

The three moved towards the door, but Cassidy paused.

"Amy, we'll be back soon," he said.

Jazz nudged Ethan and indicated they should continue their way downstairs. Ethan nodded reluctantly.

When they were gone, Amy responded.

Is what Jazz said true?

Cass nudged a small thread of cotton on the floor with his toe.

"It's not untrue..."

Be careful.

OK?

"Of course."

X

Cassidy's smile was embarrassed, but genuine. He hurried downstairs before he said anything else. Ethan was retying his shoelace, and Jazz reached out for Bobby.

"He needs to stay here," she said.

Cass nodded and watched his pet scamper off through the kitchen. The small dog would never be able to thank Amy properly for giving him his life back. Cass, himself, would never be able to thank her either. In the short time he'd had the pup, a strong attachment had developed. Losing him had left an unexpected void, one that was now filled again. He owed her his life.

There was no turning back.

"Come on," he said, opening the door. "Let's get this bastard."

"Fucker, you use some really naughty words, you know," Ethan said. "Mum would be so ashamed."

"Not as many as you, Fishy. Mum might be dead, but she'd still big enough to tan your arse."

"She's dead? Why didn't anyone tell me? Does Dad know?"

"Fuck off."

"See? Naughty words. Tell him, Jazz."

Jazz ignored them. She was hurrying along the street, and they had to hurry to catch up. In the words of Sherlock Holmes, Cass's favourite detective, the game was afoot. Or, as Jazz would call it, ahand. She had an aversion to feet and never allowed anyone to go barefoot in her house.

Cassidy knew the area well enough, but their path, directed by his sister, took them along streets he hadn't ventured down before. He'd heard their names and roughly knew of their location, but there'd not been a reason to visit them at any point of his life. It meant he was somewhere in the middle of knowing where he was and needing the assistance of a mapping app to find his way home. He could stop someone and ask directions, but who did that anymore? Too many people would be concerned you were trying to steal their phone or wallet. Too many people would be wanting to do the same to you.

Conversation limped along beside them. It travelled awkwardly, as the usual brevity had been left behind and the only subject they needed to discuss was the one they wanted to avoid. Talking about it would make it feel as if they were jinxing the outcome. They'd be tilting the scales of victory in favour of Amy's father. None of them had a specific plan of how to achieve their goal, and none wanted to admit to it, even though it was obvious. They'd face the challenge when they arrived. They couldn't turn away from it then, not that they would.

No. They wouldn't. Couldn't. Nope. Not a chance...

Cassidy broke the shifting silence with a direct question.

"Where are we going, then? I tried to find him on Google, but couldn't."

"You wouldn't," Jazz admitted. "He took over his mum's house when she died – I don't think he had anything to do with that one – and he changed his name."

"Changed his...? No wonder I couldn't find him. Who is he now?"

"Greg Carrack. He took his mum's maiden name and, I think, his dad's middle."

"Original, I suppose, but it's a bit shit as names go."

"I don't suppose murderers have much time to come up with aliases. He didn't go far, though, did he? His mum's house and both his parents' names?"

"All the better for us to find him with, my dear," said Ethan in his best Wicked Wolf voice. It was similar to his own, with only a little whining added.

"Why grandma, what a big carving knife you have!" Cassidy said, welcoming back the lighter mood.

"All the better to murder you with, my dear."

https://youtu.be/NN3-pE-fNEg