My sister and I are a mirror image. We both have fair skin, share the same blue eyes and dark hair, and often the same mannerisms. She’s six years older than me, but we were as thick as thieves growing up.
Then when she met Barry at high school, we drifted apart. She was obviously at an age where it wasn’t cool to have your nine-year-old sister acting like your shadow.
Even though she can be an asshole, she’s fought for causes close to her heart, an advocate for women’s rights, always standing up and supporting any bills.
It’s the reason why she isn’t aware of what happened to me; I wanted it that way.
If she did?
Hell help anyone that was part of that university society.
I’ve seen when the red mist’s over Louisa; it’s like she takes a different form. She’s eaten people up and spat them back outduring press conferences. You don’t want to cross her path when she gets mad.
Despite her temper coming in handy, and telling her being the morally right thing to do, it wouldn’t provide the same comfort for my way of dealing with it.
Our method of vengeance is the only answer.
The only one that not only avenges us all, but stops them doing it to anyone else.
It’s not worth telling her now anyway; what’s done is done. She can’t change anything, and to bring it to her attention could potentially put a target on our families’ backs.
We’re too far in and it could ruin Regina and I’s plans. We don’t want them to go to jail; we want them six feet beneath the dirt.
We can’t risk it not happening, and if the police looked into it—it would be us occupying a cell, not the real problem.
Regina pats my shoulder. “I’m gonna head out. Don’t wait up for me, princess.”
Frowning, I glance at the clock on the wall.
“Where are you going at this time?” I ask, then my eyes widen.
She wiggles her finger at me. “Aht aht.No. I’m not seeing anyone, as sad as that is. I’m going to do a drive-by of the apartment Elenna is at. Enough time has passed.”
My shoulders slump. Regina hasn’t really been on the dating scene either.
Or ever.
She’s married to her systematic carnage, always at the store or lurking in the dark web for events tailored to learning the best techniques.
“Take a gun, just in case,” I say to her, and she turns, holding open the lapels of her jacket.
I almost double over from the laughter.
“Jesus Christ, I hope you don’t get pulled over.”
She’s got two Glocks strapped to the inside.
“I’ve always wanted to try that shit from the movies.” She closes her jacket, trying to tug the guns out with her arms crossed, dipping into the jacket.
One gets caught in the material, and tears of laughter fall from my eyes at her struggles.
“Maybe practise that in the mirror before applying it in real life.” I chuckle, watching the other get stuck whilst she shoves it back in.
She hums. “Yeah, that went smoother in my head. Anyways, I’ll be back soon.”
“Stay safe,” I call over the back of the sofa, and she turns back to wink at me.
When the door clicks shut, the rattle of metal confirming she’s locked it, I mindlessly walk over to the sofa, picking up my phone, the need burning from it like a beacon.
