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“You’re not afraid are you?” I ask, just verifying that what I see in her is really there because I still can’t really believe it.
She’s little and cute and a kid, but she’s the fucking devil himself, and if I were Mugs, I’d shut the fuck up before the ground opened up and swallows him whole. I wait for hesitation on her part. Any sign that this really isn’t what she wants but I get nothing
She bites her lips again and rocks on her feet.
“You high or something?” I ask, quirking an eyebrow and ignoring another call from Mugs to hurry up and kill her. One last attempt to make sure what I’m seeing is real.
“No,” she whispers, and for some reason I believe her.
I raise my gun, again aiming it at her head. I take another step toward her, closing the gap between us and roughly pressing the barrel of the gun against her forehead.
She doesn’t move. She also doesn’t stop smiling.
I holster my gun and begin to laugh. I look her in the eyes. “I recognize that look,” I say, scratching at my forearm. “Never seen it in a chick before, though. Especially not one so fucking young. Only ever seen it in guys. Guys like me.”
“Guys like you?” she asks, scrunching her forehead.
“Yeah, guys like me. The bad guys.” I crack my knuckles.
“Please,” she begs, “Bad, good…” She shakes her head. “I just have to.”
I keep my eyes on her and call back to Mugs, “The girl’s right. She ain’t a witness if she does it herself.” I say, moving around to her side.
We both look to Mugs who rolls his eyes and lights a smoke.
“Wow, I knew you liked some fucked up shit, Smoke, but a sixteen-year-old who begs strangers to let her kill motherfuckers?” He scoffs. “I hope you two deviants will be really fucking happy together.”
“No, that’s not what…” the girl starts to argue.
“You don’t gotta explain shit to him,” I tell her. I lower my voice to a whisper and my head to her ear. “Mugs is a fucking moron. He doesn’t get it.”
He doesn’t see what I see.
“I heard that,” Mugs says. “And what I get is that the longer we’re out here, the higher the chances are of getting caught. I mean, I hate to kill and run, but we gotta fucking go.” Mugs turns his gun on Jerry. Without warning he pulls the trigger, sending a spray of dirt raining down into the hole.
“What the fuck?” I roar.
The girl falls to the ground and wraps her arms around her knees, not out of fear, but disappointment, as if she’s devastated and can’t even stay upright.
I kneel beside her. “You okay, kid?” I tip her chin up to meet mine. She gazes up at me with a wild look before the tears began to spill.
I pull her against my chest. “I’ll take care of you,” I whisper into her hair. I feel possessive over her. Like she was always meant to find me. Not in a sexual way, but in a way that makes her feel like instant family. She’s blood to me, now. There’s no turning back.
I want to show her that she isn’t alone. That she isn’t the only one who feels or doesn’t feel the way others do. There wasn’t anyone like that around for me growing up and I’m determined to be that person for her.
“I’ll help you. Would you like that?” I ask.
Through her tears she nods, accepting my offer although not completely understanding what it was she was agreeing to.
“Just kidding,” Mugs says suddenly. He stabs his shovel down. He walks over to where we’re crouched on the ground. “Look for yourself. He’s still alive. Just had to know you were serious.”
“You’re a fucking prick, Mugs,” I spit.
“Yeah, I know. Now let’s hurry the fuck up and get out of here. I got shit to do.”
“What’s your name, kid?” I ask, keeping her against me.
She doesn’t answer right away. “Rage.” She finally says with an audible swallow. “My name is Rage.”
“Rage. I like it.” I say, offering her my gun. “Ever shoot one of these before?” I pull her off the ground.
“No,” she admits.
“Stand here,” I direct her in front of me. I place the gun in her hand. “Take this, hold it just how I’m holding it now.”
She does what I say and her hand drops like the gun is a lot heavier than she expected it to be.
I push her forward, walking her toward where Jerry’s crouched figure is huddled in the hole. “Aim like this, and then squeeze the trigger,” I say softly. “You sure you want to do this?”
“Yes,” she answers. No hesitation.
I have no doubt she’s telling the truth, but I feel like I gotta warn her once last time. “’Cause this is life-changing shit right here. You do this and things won’t be the same ever again. This is the kind of shit that haunts grown men at night.” I pause. “The kind of shit that has them begging Jesus for forgiveness.”
