“Where’s the other man?”
No response.
“The dirty cop, his car is out front.Where is he?”
“He’s not here,” the woman sobbed. “Please don’t hurt us.”
The guy swallowed, licking his cracked lips. “He said he just wanted to borrow our car. Gave us a bump just to borrow it. Said he’d be back in an hour. We ain’t hit it yet if you’re after the drugs.”
“He left in the car?”
Fuck.
I spun out of the room, ignoring their begging, heading for the front. I almost made it out… almost. I soberly realized that they saw my face. Not only that, but they knew I was after Parrish, and they would roll over for nothing.
Loose ends.
I turned and walked back into the room. Two shots. One for each, between the eyes. They looked right at me, the deer-in-the-headlights gaze. It made lining up the shot so easy. They went down instantly, slumping over on the floor together. Under the window, they had a small flame going for their spoons. I kicked it into the couch, allowing it to light the room on fire.
Then I jogged to my car, tires screaming against broken pavement as I peeled out of the neighborhood. My fingers shook as I dialed Eden’s burner number. I was never shaky; that had been one of my most valuable traits: my unwavering steadiness, even in the face of danger. This guy had a headstart on me, though, and I had a terrible feeling that he was heading straight for Eden’s apartment.
Voicemail.
I dialed her again but was greeted once more by the voicemail.
“Pick up,” I muttered. “Pick up the fucking phone.”
I called again, but still nothing.
I hung up and hit the gas harder, heart slow and consistent which seemed to make my stress even more exaggerated. If he laid one more hand on her, if he hurt her…
No, I wouldn’t be too late. I couldn’t be. Not this time, not yet.
I parked in front of the apartment complex and bolted through the front door and up the stairs. The elevator might have been faster, but I couldn’t have stood still as it ascended to her floor. When I reached her hallway, all was quiet, and I didn’t like that. All of the apartment doors were shut, and there were no corners or dark spaces for anyone to hide. Parrish wouldn’t be expecting me either, which meant that I had the upper hand, as long as I kept moving forward
I approached her door and didn’t knock or shout her name. I didn’t hesitate. I kicked it in. Two well placed kicks had the door flying open, shards of the door facing flying into the air as it broke free. Shitty fucking door.
Inside, the apartment was a wreck: couch shoved crooked, one of the end tables toppled, a lamp shattered. I heard her screaming before I saw her. It wasn’t just fear, but fury. I walked straight ahead into the bedroom, and there he was.
Parrish was on top of her, grinning like he had won something. One hand fisted in her hair, the other reaching for something on his belt: a zip tie, maybe a gun. I didn’t care what his plan was. I don’t know how, but he hadn’t noticed the sound of me destroying the front door. When he saw me looming in the bedroom doorway, he looked stunned. He didn’t know who I was, I realized.
I cleared the bed and pulled him off her, using all of my strength to shove him into the wall. He swung at me but missed. I didn’t even have to dodge the strike. He wasn’t used to someone fighting back, I could tell. He had claw marks on his face and neck, no doubt where Eden had tried to fend him off. This only fed the infuriated haze I found myself in.
I punched him, and he immediately slumped, blinking at me. His eyes rolled, and he tried to slide down the wall, but I held him up with my other hand as I punched him again.
Over and over, until the blood on my hands wasn’t just his. I kept beating him until the drywall behind him cracked. His body had become dead weight, and I was forced to follow him to the floor, but the repetitive motion of punching him was comforting. Like popping bubble wrap or twirling a pencil.
His face didn’t resemble a person’s anymore, and it had grown soft against my knuckles. I couldn’t feel the support of bone anymore.
“Stop!” Eden screamed behind me, her voice shredded with panic. “Please! You’re killing him!”
I felt her hands on my shoulder, pulling on my jacket and somehow on my soul, but I was somewhere else. Somewhere far away. Her voice tethered me, brought me back piece by piece.
“Please,” she begged again, “Halo.”
I stopped, leaning back as she tugged me one last time. Even with the sound of her muted sobs, I could hear the gentle popping click of oxygen leaving his lungs through what was left of his nose: bubbling on the surface. His head was concave: a bowl holding the soupy pieces of his lips and nose and teeth.
I shrugged her hands off, stumbling back away from her. I had trapped myself in a corner now. My hands were still numb fists at my side, blood dripping off of them onto her floor. My vision was tunneled, focusing only on her as she stared at me from the other end of the bed, but I knew that Parrish wasn’t moving. He was dead.
