This stupid cow was laughing at me like I was some kind of joke.
Frankie was laughing at me.
The cops were laughing at me.
The carpenter and the firefighter were laughing at me.
But they didn’t know me. They didn’t know what I was capable of.
Frankie did.
And now the fat cow running her mouth would too.
“Hey,” I barked, leaning around the pump.
She startled, her gum nearly falling out of her mouth. “What?—”
I squeezed the nozzle in my other hand, spraying gasoline all over her stupid fucking face. The reek filled the air instantly, sharp and acidic, biting at my nose. She screamed, stumbling back, swatting at her face.
Her screams cut through the quiet gas station, raw and panicked, and it was beautiful. If I’d had a lighter, she’d be ashes by the time I pulled out thanks to flames licking over her cheap clothes and ugly face.
Instead, she just flailed, gas burning her skin like acid, eyes wide with horror as if she could already feel the fire crawling up her.
Pathetic.
She thought the gas was bad now, she should thank me for not lighting her on fire.
I stepped back, letting the nozzle drip, watching her scramble. The fear in her eyes was pure and raw. And it should have satisfied me.
But it didn’t.
Because it wasn’t Frankie.
No—the one who needed to scream like that, thrash like that, cry out for help until her throat bled—was Frankie.
Frankie, with her new life. Her new men.
Climbing back into my truck, my heart hammered with dark satisfaction. That little show proved it.
I was still in control. Still capable of making anyone crumble when I wanted, and the cops would know that when they showed up.
And Frankie? She was going to feel it too.
I’d make sure the next time she screamed; it would be for me.
Go on with life,as normally as possible.
Keep moving forward.
We’ll have it all settled as soon as possible.
Chief Weller’s promise rang through my head on repeat as I tried to do what he said. Part of me was doubtful, unable to trust anyone anymore, pushed down by cynicism put there thanks to life’s cruel ways.
I kept telling myself that Ididhave to keep moving forward, though, because I had worked too damn hard to let the whole ordeal steal my progress. Which was why I was sitting in a lecture hall, two weeks away from finishing my degree and being done with school altogether.
It was the last place I wanted to be, but I had to at least show up for the notes, even if I understood nothing my professor was saying over the manic thoughts running through my head.
Chief Weller had called Travis and told him he had called Danny in for questioning an hour ago. With each clock tick above my professor, I waited for a text from Travis to tell me the whole fucking thing was over.
