I watch the numbers light up red on the screen,fifty thousand dollars. “Oh, shit,” I say, under my breath.
The woman comes back with a check and a pen. “You’ll need to sign this waiver here. It says we’re not responsible for lost checks, so don’t lose the check.” She pulls the waiver from a desk drawer and slides it over, taking another drag.
I signed the waiver using one of my aliases’ names and slid it back to her. She hands me the check and cocks her brow. “You'd better leave quickly before the boys find you. They don’t like to lose money this large.”
“That’s the plan. Thank you, ma’am.” I stuff the check into my pants pocket, turning to leave before she can say anythingback to me. I walk swiftly, making my way to an exit, bursting through the door to the outside.
I look up and notice the camera is following me. It was aimed at the crowd when I came in, and now it's conveniently looking right at the exit. I take a step forward and see the camera start to move out of my peripheral vision.
Fuck.
I keep moving so I don’t tip them off that I know they are watching me, but now I can’t walk back to my car.
Fuck! I need to steal a bike and get the fuck out of here.
I cross the street and find the casino's parking garage. And just my luck, on the first level of the garage, there's a bike parked close to the exit. It’s a Kawasaki; these bikes can be started with any motorcycle key. I take out my keys and slip my bike key into the ignition, turning and thanking whoever is on my side tonight that it works. The engine roars to life, and I quickly get on the bike.
I peel out of the parking garage and take off down the road, hitting top speed to avoid my face being picked up on the city cameras. I drive for forty minutes before dumping the bike in a wooded area on the outside of the city, where I know there are no cameras to see me. I steal another car nearby, driving it back to my parked car, keeping my hood up and face shielded from view.
I check the time, the night is still young, and my next hit awaits me.
Good, because I need to let out this pent-up rage before I see Luna. She can’t know that I know about her past. That fucking piece of shit, what was his name, Greg? Yeah,Greg, he seems to know an awful lot about her, talking about hitting her? I like to give myself credit and say that I’m a smart man, but if this is Luna's ‘not-so-kind’ ex, then he’s number one on my list of people I’ll kill to keep her safe from.
Fuck, Johnny, he’ll die too, but Greg Russo is my number one target.
You’ll kill them all for her, starting with this one.
I slow my car a block away from Edward Silthers' house, a 62-year-old retiree from Bridgeport, Connecticut. He recently relocated to Boston to secretly avoid prison time.
This hit is different from my others; this hit has no buyer. I read recently in the news that he went missing and is presumed dead.
Lots of articles ran headlines that said he was dead, but I knew better.
High-profile pedophiles never die; they disappear. And Edward Slithers slithered his way to Boston and is hiding out in a home he bought under his mother's name.
Edward isn’t a smart man, and he thought his mother wouldn’t matter because she’s been dead for thirty years, but that’s precisely why it pinged in my database.
Dead women can’t buy houses.
Edward thinks he’s got away with it. That he can live the rest of his life in this house, and act like he didn’t ruin the lives of many little girls and boys. Edward needs to die.
Like Vera says in Luna’s book, “The world needs to be rid of the vermin, and I’m glad to do it.”
People like Edward need to die. The world would be better off without them, and I’m more than happy to be the one to bring them death. Luna continues to inspire me in all aspects of my life.
I enter the home as I always do, quietly slipping through the shadows until I find my target. Edward is asleep in a chair in his study. I stand over him, the rage and darkness within me building as I remember what Greg said at the blackjack table. “A few good hits, and she’ll straighten up.”
The air in the room grows thick, and the rage I feel inside bleeds out, and I slam my hand over Edwards' mouth. He jolts awake, trying to scream, but doesn’t put up much of a fight. “Hello, Edward. Today is the day you die. Do you have any last words?” Tears slide from his eyes, and the smell of piss permeates the air. “Pissing yourself? Pathetic. I think I’ll cut that off first. I need you awake and aware for that. I want you to feel it.” Edward groans, and the sound pisses me off. I pull my switchblade from my boot and stab it into his neck. Blood squirts everywhere, and Edward cries out, gripping at his neck. “Oh, shut up. It’s just a stab wound,” I smirk, removing the knife from his neck.
Edward softly sobs, choking on his own blood, and it’s music to my ears. “I’m going to enjoy killing you, Edward. The world will be better off without you. This is for my angel, my salvation,” I say, as I pull out my pistol with the silencer on it. “Tell the devil I say hello for me.” I aim between his eyes and pull the trigger without a second thought. Edwards’ head slumped back as blood beganto pool on the floor.
I wipe the splatted blood off my face and fall to my knees. The darkness and rage consume me. “It’s not enough. They all need to suffer.”
You will do so in time. You’re doing an excellent job ridding the world of evil. Luna will be proud.
Will she? Will she understand, or run scared of me? I wouldn’t blame her for running. I hurt people, and Luna only writes about hurting people. I laugh to myself at the thought. Maybe I should be more like her and write my feelings down instead of putting bullets in pedophiles.
I turn my wrist, and my watch says it’s 5:15 am. “Enough time to head back to my apartment to shower before I pick Luna up and head out for the weekend.”
