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10
Kill of the Night
Jay
I’veneverseenthe underbelly of the city before, but this is important. More than that, it’s necessary. Finding the man who took Julia feels like the only thing keeping me going at this point.
With a name from the detective in hand, I search for Rosie. She somehow knows everyone. As expected, Rosie knows a person who knows a girl who dates a guy that can help us track down John Higley. It’s through this network of somewhat shady characters we finally locate him.
I swear I’ll never question her, and when we get Julia back, Rosie is getting a raise. And a promotion.
I’ve been slowly dying over the past weeks without Julia. The good memories are becoming harder to recall, and the darkness is closing in. How long before I forget her face? Her voice? You hear about it happening when you lose someone. It’s like all the light is sucked out of my life. I’m only left with my darkest thoughts.
I’ve never been violent, but there’s always one thing that will drive a person to their limit and push them over. When I think about it, at this point there is nothing I wouldn’t do to have Julia back safely.
This man, he took from me. He did this, and he will suffer for his actions.
I don’t know when I decided this was the route I would take. Instead, it feels like there’s only one path forward. When the most vital person in your life is taken, there’s no line you won’t cross. I’m sure for some people there is, but for me, the moment I saw him on the security tapes with his hand around Julia’s throat, it disappeared.
I need this man to experience violence at my hands.
Inexperienced as we are, Rosie and I decided to hire help from professionals. We need them to help us obtain the target, who would then be taken to a more remote location. Namely, a remote piece of land owned by a ghost outside the city. We are instructed to wait for a call confirming delivery. Then we will be given instructions on where to go.
Really, it’s quite an efficient business model they have going for them. You pay them, whomever they may be, an absurd amount of money. Then they arrange every detail a person needs for their revenge. The whole process even includes a questionnaire to know which supplies they should stock. It seems some people can be very particular about their tools. It’s an impressive level of attention to detail. Who knew the underworld could be so organized?
There’s no reason for my involvement in tracking him down, but I can’t keep myself away. I took the information Rosie was given about Higley and found him at a bar in The Heights getting drunk with buddies and hitting on women who clearly don’t want his attention. The man is my only connection to Julia, and I want to see his face when the tables are finally turned against him. I want to witness when he realizes how fucked he is.
He’s stumbling out of the bar with a bouncer close behind him.
“Go home. You’re drunk.” The bouncer gives Higley a last shove out the door.
I’m following quietly behind as Higley stumbles along the sidewalk before collapsing on the corner.
I can’t think about the idea of Julia not coming home, but the more time that passes, the more likely it becomes. I can’t let this drag on any longer. This needs to end, he needs to end.
I’m looking around, slightly panicked, wondering where they are. I can’t help but think the plan’s gone wrong. We’ve missed our opportunity, and the man is going to get a ride home after another night of drinking. I see a cab pull up to the curb, and my stomach drops.
Houston doesn’t have cabs driving around waiting for passengers.
My pulse picks up as I realize who must be getting out of the cab. They make their way over to the drunken man sprawled on the corner and haul him to the back seat of the car. Then the driver goes around the car, ripping off decals and quickly replacing the license plates with new ones. The movement is practiced and efficient. Soon, the cab is transformed into a nondescript rideshare.
The urgency I feel diminishes a bit knowing the man I loathe is on his way to his end, and I turn to head back to my own truck.
I spend the rest of the evening pacing in Julia’s office, waiting for the phone call. At some point, someone drops food off for me, and Rosie even tries to get me to have a drink, but I can’t stomach it.
I’m not apprehensive about what I plan to do to this man. No matter how dark and gruesome the desires are. No, if anything, making this commitment is the easy part. Instead, I’m hung up on the fact he may not know enough to help us, or what he does tell us might not help us find her. Plus, while Rosie is highly committed to the endeavor, I worry the level of violence simmering in me might be too much for her to witness.
Rosie’s head pops in before she even knocks.
“Hey, there.” She looks like she’s bracing herself.
All day, she’s been poking her head in and out of the office, and it’s grating on my nerves. I’m short-tempered and snappy. She’s tried flirting and joking and scolding me, but nothing is going to get my mind off of what’s happening tonight. It makes sense that she’s on edge as well with how I’ve been acting out. I’m not making things easy for her.
“Hey,” I grumble back, trying to stretch my patience.
“I see you’re still playing prisoner of war on a hunger strike here.”
I want to lash out at her, but she doesn’t deserve it. She deserves so much better from me. Without Rosie, I wouldn’t have made it this far. I would have fallen to pieces days ago.
