It happened so fast, Tod could only open his eyes and gasp—and then he was gone, just like that. He became nothing morethan a body that pissed itself mere moments later, a thin stream of blood oozing out of the corner of his mouth.
Lola let out a feathery sigh as she slid off him and stood next to the bed, leaving the knife protruding from his chest. When she turned around to face me, I saw the wicked glint in her vibrant blue eyes, and I knew she was happy. Honestly, the woman was only happy when she was with her men or doing what she did best. The over-the-top mask she wore was just that: a mask. Inside, I think she constantly fought the feeling of emptiness.
Again, it was something I understood better than most people.
“Well, time to call the cleanup crew,” she mused as she stretched, completely unbothered that she was still in her panties and bra, the scars on her stomach on full display. And the body on the bed behind her? Not a concern to her any longer.
I divided my time between watching her dress and listening to her call whoever was in charge of the cleanup and looking at the body on the bed.
I should feel something. I literally just watched her kill the guy, and I knew nothing about him other than the fact that he handed out drugs willy-nilly and was okay with taking advantage of a woman who was high on them.
But I didn’t. As I stared at the guy, I realized I didn’t feel a thing. Not a single thing. In fact, I felt a bit of envy in that Lola was the one who did it and not me; I wanted to do it.
I wanted to kill.
This darkness inside of me refused to dissipate. The only thing it seemed to do was grow exponentially. Being the meek little girl who went along with whatever her dad wanted, the one who smiled and acted like the perfect child in front of cameras… she was gone, and she’d never return. I was here in her place, and I wasn’t going anywhere.
An hour later, Lola was driving us back to her house. It was a good ways away, but the hour was so late, the highway was dead, only semis and a smattering of other vehicles drove with us. She wore a faint smile, and eventually I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to ask.
“Enjoy yourself that much tonight?” I asked.
“Yeah, I mean—you’re talking about the goofy smile?” She chuckled to herself. “It ain’t that. Don’t get me wrong, it was nice to go out and let loose tonight. I don’t get to hunt much anymore—there’s always something to do. Always someone in the city who needs to be reminded that I’m it’s fucking queen. No, this here smile’s because I can’t remember the last time I drove anywhere before tonight.”
“What do you mean?”
“I never officially got my license.”
“What?”
“Yeah, it was a form of control for my parents. Another one, I should say. And then… after I was out on my own, I was able to get by without one.” She whipped her head in my direction, still beaming like a madwoman. “The one I have now is completely fake, isn’t that funny?”
Considering she was driving a car on a highway going anywhere between seventy-five and eighty-five miles-per-hour, no, I wouldn’t necessarily call that funny, only frightening. Maybe I should’ve driven.
Lola must’ve sensed my unease, because she giggled and added, “Don’t worry. I can drive just fine… mostly. It’s intuitive and all that shit, ain’t it? I mean, don’t ask your girl to parallel park or anything crazy like that, but I got this. Long skinny pedal: gas. Thick pedal on the right: the brake.”
“Uh, I think you mean the pedal on the left is the brake,” I said, my heart beating fast yet again tonight, but for a whole new reason. I had no idea we might crash and burn and die on ourlittle excursion. Call me crazy, but dying in a car crash was not on my list of things to do, ever.
She laughed again. “Look at that, you’re right!”
Now I understood why she always had that guy Harvey driving her everywhere. I’d trust this woman with my life, but driving? That was apparently another story.
“Enough about me and my awesome driving skills,” she said, glancing at me again. “How do you feel? You were pretty quiet back there. You’re making me think you regret wanting to go out with me.”
“It’s not that. It’s just…”
“Just what, girlie? Talk to Mommy Lola.”
Mommy Lola. Not what I’d call her, especially since she’s only a few years older than me. Still, I was pretty sure I knew where she was going with that: she had more experience doing this, dealing with this sort of thing than I did.
Still, nobody will ever catch me calling her Mommy Lola.
“I don’t know,” I said, frowning to myself. “I don’t know how to explain it.”
“Hmm.” Her slender fingers tapped the steering wheel. “I have a thought. A few of them, but only one of them is related to this conversation. Man, I could go for some greasy French fries—that’s one of my other thoughts, but back to the one that pertains to you: maybe you feel a little strange because you haven’t fully embraced that side of yourself yet.”
“Yes, I have,” I said.
The way she looked at me after that told me she didn’t believe me. “Really? Come on. Let’s be real. I had murder on the brain for a long-ass time before I finally did it. Now I’m a freaking queen of the mafia world.”
