“Three, two, one...go!”
The bullet doesn’t miss but I know I’m not a pro like him either. If the object moves, I will miss. Somehow somewhere in my brain tells me it’s the last hold I have against my old self. I am perfect in dancing but not in shooting someone’s brain off. And that’s Ok with me.
A hand pulls me hard against a body. I find his breath hot in my ears. “You will miss if your mind is in somewhere else.”
“I know,” I whisper back, flexing the gun down.
Turning back my breath catches in my throat. He watches me with those blue eyes, scrutinizing, trying to find if I’m hiding something from him. Can’t say I haven’t. I haven’t had a good night of sleep since that day. Those monsters haunted me all night, sometimes even letting me watch while they hurt him. I can see Desmond giving me that ugly smile. I can hear his words in my head.
You thought you escaped?
You thought this was going to be this easy?
Haven’t you learn anything from Grace?
“Look at me, Kitty.” Seth grabs my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Something’s bothering you. What is it?”
With a tired sigh, I can’t help but pushing his hair from his forehead. It’s almost hiding his eyes now. “Everything. Everything’s bothering me. Ceaser. Desmond, Xavier...me.”
His eyes reveal nothing. He only murmurs for me to hear. “How can I help you? What will fix this...whatever you are feeling?”
“I want them dead, Seth. I want them gone. With my own hand. Only then I can fix myself. Can you help me do that?” I don’t even have to wait for a second. He’s there with me, the gun in my hand again aiming at the cardboard.
“It’s going to be hard for you. The first kill.” I hear him swallow. The sound cutting through the room. “You wouldn’t even feel a fucking thing first, the adrenaline to take something...be it a life or power can be quite addicting. But when they’re dead and you see the life leaving from their eyes...you will feel guilty. Doesn’t matter if they deserve it or not. You’re the one left with these hollow feelings. And that’s how you know you’re the only one alive.”
“Tell me?” I can barely recognize my own voice. It’s too hollow. Just as he said. At least I’m alive then.
“Tell you what?” He searches my eyes.
“Your story.” I clarify. “Your first kill.”
“A drunken bastard I think. There was a girl in two trailers down the road. She always wore makeup, not for her age. Sometimes she used to hang out with us in the clubhouse. She only talked to Foxy, I don’t think I’ve ever heard a word from her lips. But her eyes were what revealed more than she’d ever said. They were dead, with no hope, no desire to live.” He breaks off. Maybe I exhale with him too. “Then I saw it. A drunken bastard was harassing her. You know the funny thing? I went there to help. I beat him with my fists until he wasn’t breathing. But do you know what she said?”
I shake my head frowning. He laughs unclenching his fists. “She said to let him go. She screamed with every fist I’ve risen. But not in appreciation. She called me the monster. Not that fucker. And when he wasn’t breathing anymore, she ran in tears. I thought they were happy tears, but they only revealed the hate for me. I’ve never seen her after that. But the guilt-”
“That wasn’t your fault.” They say thousands of words I can’t say. I’m sorry. You’re not a monster. She was just lost. Life is just a bitter symphony. Where to stop?
“Mad Dog heard about what happened.” His jaw hardens. The devil of all hell. I want to laugh at him now. Even in death, he has left his tainted touch in everyone. “That fucker was impressed with my work. So he sent me to do his bindings with other MC’s. I didn’t even have a fucking choice. He just told me to kill and I did. I think I was always the weak one.” He laughs at his own words.
“Why do you think that?” I wreck my head to find something that will match with his words. But I come out empty, dry, dead.
“Lethal fought to the end. Even if he was beaten and starved, he refused to play Mad Dog’s sick game where I just did what he said. Sometimes it used to scare me that one day he will tell me to kill Lethal and I wouldn’t be able to stop.” He admits pain raking through his voice. He isn’t ashamed to admit that, it’s just one of his brutal truth he’s carrying for God knows how many years.
Yet the wince comes involuntarily. My grip on his arm tightens and I’m already shaking my head. “You wouldn’t. You can’t-You can’t do that. You’re better than that.”
“Whatever.” He dismisses my words with just a tired sigh. Or did he really? Before I can ask, Carter enters the room with a briefcase. Seth’s back stiffens but he doesn’t show any emotion regarding what he just told me.
Another one of his mask...
“I see you two have become too much cozy in my weapon room,” Carter says his gaze flickering between us. A hiss leaves from Seth’s lips. Intentional or unintentional, he has managed to make Carter back up with a shake of his head.
“Just get to the fucking point, Carter.”
Without another word, he sits down at the small coach and opens the briefcase. Picture after picture taunts me and I think even I know why he came here for this specific visit. He slams down a couple of cheap quality picture over the table and nods towards me.
“It’s hard to find pictures of the mafia in good quality. This will have to do. Now watch every one of them and tell me which one do we have to go after.”
Seth’s eyes flash a dangerous blue. Like a storm. “You insensitive jerk! At least ask me before you go fuck up-”
“No, it’s ok.” I’m quick to stop him. Eyes of different colors, emotions stares back at me. Blue, Grey, black, silver, brown...Dead, half-dead, angry, demons...
“Him.” It doesn’t even hurt to point my demons out anymore. “And him.”
Seth and Carter both look at where I’m pointing. Two pictures of doom stare back at us. Seth watches them, memorize their face before his fist shoves through the table. The briefcase slides down the table, the pictures messily flop around it.
“Son of a bitch!” He curses looking over my shoulder. “That fucked up-sick bastard! Desmond had to be with them. There’s no fucking point to ignore the truth.”
“Dillon and Antonio. Poor souls.” Carter doesn’t sound angry. He’s merely annoyed at what they did. Poor souls. Did they have any soul in the first place? “I will get everything ready. Just make sure Lethal doesn’t know I’m going to be at the party.”
I must have missed some kind of secret there, as Seth snarls. “He wouldn’t. I fucking remember my deals.”
“Very well then. Your dress and tux came just an hour ago. You two better be ready. If you two don’t join the Serpents in time, Lethal will start suspecting something.” Seth doesn’t bother to argue. He just takes my arm and drag us to our room. Truth to Carter’s word, there’s a dark red long gown with a slit and a rich black tux ready for us.
“You go first. I will get you in time.” He doesn’t want to leave me alone. But he knows me. Somehow even better than me sometimes. So I nod gratefully. I need to be alone. To think. To plan. To destroy.
So I walk into the shower and do my best to get rid of the smell of gunpowder. I don’t think I can lie my ways out if Grace notices it. I wash away all the worry, all thoughts, all fear of seeing them so close to me. I remember just his story. About a lost girl and her monster.
I blindly do the makeup. A little concealer to hide the horror of my nightmare, a red bright lipstick to match the equally bright smile, the small earings which Seth must’ve left for me. My wet hair is no way to be tamed so I leave them over my shoulder in frilly curls. I blink back the guilt to see the red dress on me. Grace would’ve rocked this one. It fits me perfectly yet it shows the girl who is desperate for one night of sleep without nightmares.
“You look beautiful, love.” I let him have his moment. I let him believe his lie. But pain is beautiful isn’t it?
“Thank you.” He frowns at my disinterest. He looks dangerous wearing the dark tux. It suits him better than I thought. As if he wasn’t going to a party. As if he was going to a war zone. And I loved it. I love him...
“You’re beautiful, Kitty. No matter what. Now-” He stops to bring a holster from behind him. I also see the gun I practiced with this whole week. “Put this on.”
The gun is cold to touch. I shrug it off, cold heart, cold gun. Does it matter? He watches me as I drag the dress up until I can patch the holster on my upper thigh. His eyes catch my every movement, every hesitant step I take, every harsh breath seeing the fire at his eyes.
“Let’s take this show to the road.” He yanks me to him and then...it’s all him and his secrets. His dark promise to bring them all down. It’s my new identity.
And I fucking embrace it like it’s my last breath...