I'm going to bury you

Chapter 129: I'm going to bury you

GREG EVANS

I was done waiting, It had been days since my brother’s murder, and the police had done or said nothing. No arrests, no suspects, just empty words and useless sympathy. I wasn’t a fool, I knew how these things worked. If I didn't push, this case would end up in one of their unsolved cases files.

I wasn’t about to let that happen.

I stormed into the police station, my presence alone enough to turn heads. I didn’t care, let them look, let them whisper.

I slammed my hand on the front desk, making the officer behind it jump. "I need to speak to whoever’s in charge of my brother’s murder investigation. Now."

The officer stammered, scrambling to find an answer, but I wasn’t in the mood for excuses.

"Greg Evans," a voice called. I turned to see the lead detective, a tired-looking man with a coffee-stained shirt and bags under his eyes. "What can I do for you?"

"You can start by explaining why my brother’s killers are still walking free," I snapped.

The detective sighed. "It’s complicated…"

"Uncomplicate it." I demanded.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "We’re following leads…"

I let out a humorless laugh. "Leads? What leads? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re sitting on your asses, waiting for the case to solve itself."

"Mr. Evans, these things take time…"

"My brother was murdered in cold blood!" I barked. "Shot like a goddamn dog, and you want me to be patient? Do I look like a man with patience?"

There was silence then the detective shifted uncomfortably. "We’re doing what we can."

"Well, it’s not enough." I leaned in, my voice low and dangerous. "I’ll find out who did it myself if I have to. And if I do, I promise you, I won’t be coming back here to report it."

I didn’t wait for a response. I turned on my heel and walked out, my blood boiling. If they weren’t going to do anything about the case, I'll take matters into my hands.

When I got home, the weight of everything hit me again. Mia was curled up on the couch with her friend, she was staring at nothing, her eyes were dull and her face pale. She had barely spoken since the hospital. She was wasting away in front of me, and I couldn’t do a damn thing to fix it.

Cecilia sat beside them, rubbing her back, whispering things I couldn’t hear. She looked just as broken, just as lost.

I clenched my fists, John was gone, and they were falling apart.

I wasn’t the soft, comforting type. I didn’t know how to hold someone and tell them it would be okay. But I did know how to fix things, and I was going to fix everything.

Angrily, I picked up a few documents and stormed out of the house making my way to John’s office, slamming the door behind me. I needed to think, needed to figure out my next move.

I paced the room, my mind racing.

Then my eyes landed on a folder sitting on John’s desk.

I frowned. It was thick, stuffed with papers. I reached for it, flipping it open and then I saw ‘Smith Corporation.’

Bank transactions. Offshore accounts. Deals with criminals.

My breath hitched.

What was John doing with all of these? Then my eyes landed on a video recording, I played it and saw that it was Martha, John’s late wife that made the video.

I watched the video and gritted my teeth. He had been planning something and he didn't tell me.

I gritted my teeth, scanning through the documents. My fingers trembled as I pieced it together.

Smith Cole had something to do with all of this. I had suspected someone or something powerful was behind John’s death and these documents have proved me right.

My brother had died trying to take him down, now it was my turn. I grabbed the folder, shoving it inside a safe and stormed out. I didn’t care if it was reckless or if this was dangerous.

Smith Cole was going to pay.

By the time I arrived, I was seething. Smith’s office was as grand as ever, all polished wood and expensive art. But the man himself? He was as disgusting as always.

He sat behind his desk, a smirk on his face like he had already won.

"Greg Evans," he drawled, leaning back in his chair. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

I slammed my hands on the table. “You bastard, you killed my brother.”

His smirk didn’t falter. "Did I?"

"You did and I'll do everything in my power to bring you down." I responded, my jaw clenching.

A flicker of amusement crossed his face. "Careful, Evans. That’s a serious accusation and even if I did, what exactly can you do?"

I leaned in, my voice low. "You’re a serious piece of shit. But guess what? I'm worse, I'm not my brother, I'll make sure you pay."

It was quiet for a while then, he laughed. A cold, empty sound.

"You think you scare me?" he asked, shaking his head. "You’re just an angry old man lashing out because you lost your brother. It’s pathetic, really."

I clenched my jaw. "I’m going to bury you."

His smirk returned. "Is that a threat?"

"It’s a promise."

He sighed, pretending to be disappointed. "You can't do anything, you can't even harm a hair on my head.” Then he pointed a finger at me. “You know, I liked your brother. He was a pain in the ass, but he had guts. Unlike you."

I saw red.

Before I knew it, I had grabbed him by the collar and yanked him forward.

"You’re going to pay for what you did," I growled. "And I won’t stop until I rip everything away from you."

Smith chuckled. "You’re welcome to try. But while at that, prepare for another funeral."

I shoved him back and left his office.

On the way home, I called my children.

"Get on the next flight home," I told them.

"Dad…" They said in unison.

"No arguments. Your uncle’s funeral is happening, and I need you here." I responded.

“Sure dad.” My son responded and my daughter just sighed.

The funeral preparations were a disaster. I arrived at the venue to find workers dragging their feet, making stupid mistakes. I snapped.

"You call this a setup?" I barked, pointing at the poorly arranged chairs. "Are you trying to insult my brother?"

The worker stammered, looking terrified.

"Fix it. Now."

I turned to another worker. "And where the hell are the flowers? They were supposed to be here an hour ago!"

"I…I'll call the supplier…"

"You do that. And if they’re not here in ten minutes, I’ll find someone else who can do the damn job properly." I responded.

I wasn’t in the mood for inefficiency, everything had to be perfect.

This was for John.

Another thing I had to handle after the funeral was Smith Cole, he thought he could get away with this, he thought he was untouchable but boy was he wrong. I wasn’t just going to destroy him, I was going to make him suffer and pay for all the pain he had cost my family.