“Don’t worry, I can give you a ride home,” he offers, but there’s a slight slur to his words.
Perfect.
“I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you,” I say with feigned concern. “Plus, I’m not feeling too great… I think I need to get some air first.”
“Let me help you,” he says a little too eagerly. “There's a door out back where you can get some air, away from all the smokers out front.”
I nod weakly, following him as he guides me towards the back door. He doesn’t notice me grabbing the broken pool cue that’s leaning against the wall, and I subtly hold it behind my back until we’re outside.
The alleyway behind the bar is dark and smells like rotting garbage, the only light coming from a distant streetlamp on the main road.
Jake stumbles slightly as we step into the alley and furrows his eyebrows at me when he notices me leaning the pool cue against the wall. It’s almost comical how clueless he is. The shouts and laughter from inside the bar are instantly cut off when the door slams shut.
The silence is terrifying, if only because it makes me fullyaware of what’s about to happen. It’s only the two of us now, alone in the dark alley.
Am I really about to kill this man? If I ran now, I could get in the car and be back at the cabin before anyone realizes what’s happened. It would make tonight’s attempt futile, but then I wouldn’t have to live with the guilt of what I’m about to do.
Jake backs me against the cold brick wall, placing both hands on the wall on either side of me in an attempt to steady himself as he leans down to kiss me.
I turn my head at the last second. “Stop,” I snap, as if that will do anything to deter him. His breath is hot on my cheek as he sways in place.
I look around, scanning the alley quickly for any cameras that might be placed out here, but I don’t notice any. Still, I can't be too careful. I focus on channeling the power of the necklace again, willing it to obscure me from any people as well as any cameras. Whether it will work, I can't be sure, but it's a risk I have to take. I make a mental note to ask Ambrose more about the magic this week.
Jake presses closer, lifting one hand off the wall so he can caress my cheek. “C’mon, don't be like that," he slurs, trying to force another kiss.
I sidestep him easily, and he stumbles forward, hitting his head against the brick wall with a sickening crack.
“Fuck,” he mutters, overcorrecting by stumbling backward and falling on his ass.
Now what? Do I wait?
The drug combination might do the trick of killing him, but every second I spend out here with him runs the risk of me getting caught. I need to end this as quickly as possible.
He’s still on the ground rubbing his forehead when Isnatch the pool cue from where I had leaned it against the wall and approach him from behind.
As I stare at his hunched form on the ground, a pang of guilt hits me at what I’m about to do, but I don’t allow myself to let it linger. In fact, anger wells up in my chest as I come to terms with the situation I’m in. It’s been easy to look at this guy as nothing more than a nuisance tonight, but only because I knew what I was getting myself into. If I really had been an unsuspecting woman looking for a nice night out, he’d probably be raping my unconscious ass in this alley right now.
Why should I give mercy to a man who’d never show me the same kindness? Men like him take without care to feed their own selfish desires. Why should I be any different?
My heart hammers in my chest as I grip it in my hands like a baseball bat, my hands about halfway up the length with the thicker end at the top.
He looks up just as I start to swing.
“What are you?—”
I don’t give him time to finish his sentence.
As I bring the stick down with all my strength, that voice in the back of my mind whispers,This is it. The point of no return.
The wood connects with his temple with a heavy thud.
Falling back slightly, he raises his arm, attempting to shield his head from the next blow, but he’s not fast enough with the drugs in his system.
He slurs out angry, panicked curses, as I hit him again and again, each blow more brutal than the last. Blood runs from his nose and the gashes on his head. The more I hit him, the more rage courses through me. All the injustices of the world seem to be condensed into the microcosm of this moment, and he’s a representation of all the shitty men whoharm others for their own selfish gains. And I want to destroy him.
I don’t stop. Ican’tstop.
I strike him over and over again, aiming for his temples and the base of his skull, and each crunch of bone reverberates through the stick in my hand like the crack of a bat against a baseball. Eventually, he’s still, collapsed on the ground in a pile of limbs with blood gushing from his nose. His jaw juts out at an odd angle, and his face is already bruising and swelling beyond recognition.
