So no. Nothing about this is victimless.
Guilt, shame, and remorse pound the inside of my skull with the heft of a sledgehammer. The throbbing pain nearly incapacitates me.
Kenzie, Kenzie, Kenzie.
I need to remember who I’m doing this for. The poor thing is suffering far more than me. All because I trusted the wrong man.Again.
Once I’ve gathered my composure, I head to the locker room to check my phone.
As expected, there’s a message from the dimple-having piece of monkey scat whom I’ll be murdering at my first opportunity.
As soon as I learn how to fire a gun or fight. Then again, there’s always poison. Which I also know nothing about.
Silas:
Did I ever tell you how perfect you are, my sweet girl?
Gross. So dang gross. I’m not his sweet anything. I can’t believe I used to sleep with him. I want to be sick all over again.
Through the haze of moisture obscuring my vision, I type out my reply. As he instructed, I’m careful to avoid including anything incriminating in the text.
Me:
Where am I meeting you after my shift?
Silas:
I can’t see you tonight. Rain check.
My breath comes fast and choppy.
No, no, no.
Thiscannotbe happening.
He said I would get her tonight after work. That was the deal. He was supposed to give me the location where she’d be dropped. Alive. Tonight. Not tomorrow. No rain checks.
I did my part.
Me:
You promised I’d see you tonight.
Silas:
Things change, sweet girl. We’ll talk later. You better get back to work so you don’t get in trouble.
Me:
I really need to see you tonight.
Silas:
Go back to work, Lila.
Son of a curse word. Turns out, I’m not getting my friend back tonight.
Silas better count his days. Him and his dimples.
