His voice is like nails on a chalkboard. My spine squirms with anticipation and disgust for this rotten bastard. God, help me keep it together.
He should have worn a mask. “Hello Jon,” I speak in a stilted accent and wink at him, stepping a smidgen closer, swaying my hips. His eyes light up with want.
“Oh yeah, baby, say my name,” he slurs in my ear as he touches me, pulling me into a hug even though he doesn’t know who the hell I am. “My reputation must precede me if you’re seeking me out.” My fingers itch to hurt him. This has to end tonight. My ex-boyfriend needs to pay for his crimes against me.
“Let’s dance,” I whisper in his ear, wanting to pull him away from the crowd he’s hanging with. Especially his brother, Tom. Those two together are dangerous. Besides, he will get his soon enough.
He doesn’t hesitate because he’s gullible, and he thinks he’s going to get lucky tonight. He grinds his hips into mine as someone hands him another drink. By the third song, he’s sloppy drunk and trying to kiss down my neck. If this is his idea of romance, I’m glad I got away from him.
As his pathetic lips find their mark, I see red. The urge to gut him here and now is thick within my bones. I don’t do that, of course. Instead, I put on a brave face and pull his hair roughly.
His eyes pop at me in surprise. There’s a look of wolfish lust in his gaze.
“Take me home,” I whisper.
He looks at me with an overconfident smirk. He thinks he’s scoring tonight. If only he knew. He walks me out of the club, groping my ass. As we walk, I notice he takes me to a remote location. My skin starts to tingle as worry filters through me. The parking garage for the club is on the other side of the building from where we are. He’s parked in the back alley where no one is around. The hairs on my arms stand at attention, priming me to strike, as he takes me to a green sports car with a Cheshire cat on the back window.
“Nice car,” I lie through my teeth. It’s a 1994 green Camaro that desperately needs a paint job.
Jon fumbles with the keys as he tries to open the door. I bite my lip to keep from laughing at him. He finally gets the right key into the lock and opens the door. He bows at me with a stupid grin on his face. Sweeping his arm out, he wiggles his eyebrows at me.
“Get in babe. I’m going to make you smile.”
Oh God.My barf is already threatening to come up. I look at my target and decide I should end it here. He’s drunk and I shouldn’t get in the car with him.
Flirting with him at this point would be for sport. However, I like to toy with my prey. I crawl into the backseat; it’s a junkyard of wrappers and beer cans. Disgust makes me rethink my decision for a second. But I don’t change my mind. As he crawls into the backseat with me, I urge him on by unbuttoning the top two buttons of my silky, black shirt.
“Why don’t you make me smile now, sexy?” I should win a fucking Emmy for my performance with this sack of shit.
“Yeah, I plan to,” he slurs as he crawls in on top of me. I try not to think about what will happen if I can't pull this off. I smile when he focuses on my boobs even though he can only see the swell of my cleavage. His hands move over my breasts, and he grabs them—hard. I hold back a scream of pain. He doesn’t get to hear that, and I refuse to give him the power.
Jon’s distracted when I pull out the short blade from my boot. He bends down to kiss the skin he can reach, but I jab the knife into his right side. I feel the skin give way and hear his sharp intake of breath.
I giggle as he looks down at me. “Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about. Make me smile, baby.” I use one of my legs to shove him out of my space, straight out the door and onto the ground.
He lands on his back, and I can see the look of confusion and pain. “What …”
I climb out of the car and stand above him for a moment. I smirk, bend down, and take my knife out of his side. The force wasn’t enough to kill him on impact.
“He …” His words are cut off as I stab him in the stomach and step on his crotch with my high-heel boots. He tries to scream, but I cut him off by stabbing him right under his sternum and shoving upward. I chuckle as he coughs. This isn’t enough, though. He’s begging me to stop but that’s not happening; I want to see the light fade from his eyes.
I cut about a four-inch wound crossing his femoral artery. He’ll be dead shortly. I move my blade up his body, teasing the edge along his left side. He gasps and I stab him in the neck. A whistling gurgle slips from his lips as the light escapes his eyes and his eyelids close.
“Not the fun you were expecting, huh, Jon?” I mock him. I know he’s gone, and it’s probably wrong of me to mock the dead, but I can’t find my give a crap button anywhere. Payback is a bitch, and she’s come to collect.
I slice his throat for good measure and stand there, feeling victorious. The blood on my blade shines in the light from the club. So, so pretty.
My stomach reminds me I haven’t eaten today, and I lick the blade. The taste of his blood seeps into my mouth, and I moan.
“The blood of victory, Jon.” I wipe the blade on his cheap shirt and stow it back into my boot. Taking out the small container of lighter fluid and a lighter, I douse him and his disgusting car. Walking around to the other side, I flick the lighter into the car, and it goes up in flames. I watch in fascination as the car burns bright, until I hear the sizzling of flesh. As I walk away, I hum, “Down with the Sickness,” and leave a white rabbit card on the dumpster. I wonder if the police are smart enough to find it. I smile a grin worthy of the Cheshire cat. Huh, maybe I am a little like The Mad Hatter after all.
The treadmill beeps at me,and I raise my arms in victory. Two more miles than last week. Fuck, I’m starting to like running. Damn my best friend Donnie for daring me to run the Wonderland Marathon with him. With one last sprint, I hop off the treadmill and make my way to the showers. I love the fact that our police department has its own gym. With a quick shower, I get dressed for my shift. Taking one last look in the mirror, I comb my spiky, black hair to the right side. I nod, happy with the results I see.
Tightening my belt, I walk into the police station’s front office like I own the damn joint. I gaze over at the desk and see Desk Sergeant Williams is on duty tonight.
Shit, maybe tonight won't be so great after all. I grumble as I try not to think about walking out the door and calling in sick. How many fucking cops saw me in the gym? Can I pretend to have a virus?
“Boy, if you aren’t coming to give me good news, then what the fuck are you doing in my lobby?”
