It’s clean.It’s ugly.It is necessary.
Roach is sputtering.He’s slapping at me, but too weak from loss of oxygen to do much more.
He looks at me, and his eyes show the same slow dawning that he probably saw on one or more of his victims.The moment someone realizes the ledger’s been balanced.And it’s their line being crossed.
I lean down and murmur roughly in his ear, “She was never yours.”
Then I squeeze harder.
Because there’s nothing stopping me from writing the rest of this story in blood and putting a period where a life used to be.
The part of me that was forged in conflict wants it.
The other part—the part that still remembers how her smile looked curled up on my couch, how she said my name like every other sound in the world went quiet—that part fucking demands it
I reach for my push knife, the one sheathed at my back, and I use it.
I shove it into his neck, cutting through his major arteries, wiggling the blade to make sure they’ve all been nicked clean.
And I watch as realization dawns in his muddy eyes.
I keep looking as the light goes out.
I bear witness as this useless piece of shit dies.
Blood spurts and dribbles down his body, some of it gets on me.
Then, I drop him on the piece of plastic Benji strategically laid on the ground.
We make quick work of cleanup.Plastic, rope and duct tape, the kind of knots you learn not to be sloppy with.
He isn’t struggling, so it’s easy.Benji spits on him for good measure, and Micah searches their pockets for phones.
We haul them to the side of the gas station that leads to a field, and Micah ties their bodies to the back of one of the bikes.
“I’m gonna drag them out of here.Get ‘em situated right quick.”
He means chemicals.The kind that dissolves skin, bone, and blood and all that pesky DNA evidence that might tie any of us to what happened here.
The funny thing is that where war has weighed heavily on all of us a time or two—this here?This won’t even keep me up.
Because these motherfuckers were bad news.And they deserved everything they got.
“We got the other two bikes,” Benji says, and taps Alex’s shoulder.
Poor kid.He got an education tonight he won’t be able to forget.
I nod, heading for the bathroom door.
For my Lil Bit.
Chapter 38-Bit
The shower feels good.Perfect.
Steam wraps around me, thick and hot, until it’s all I can see.
My body hums with exhaustion, the sting of adrenaline fading into a dull ache.
