AllFreeNovel
Share Us
This gives me the fleeting second I need to get off a chest shot. I fire once, a direct hit, and watch as he goes all the way down, his rifle spraying bullets at the florescent lights overhead.
Within seconds, I find myself standing over him, his eyes fixed on mine. The light slowly draining out of them, it’s apparent in the way that his fingers can no longer grip his gun. I nudge it away from his body with my foot, while simultaneously aiming my own at his head.
For a fraction of a second, I glance back at the woman sprawled out on the tile, her small basket beside her. Inside, a single package of diapers. The boy’s head rests on her chest. Blood pools around them. “He had trains on his pajamas,” I say and fire the shot.
Chapter Thirteen
JC
She attended to me with a flippancy I found unnerving, despite my desperation to be attended to. That’s how I first came to know her, on a long haul flight.
She wasn’t old, but she wasn’t young, and I couldn’t help but wonder what a woman like her was doing in a job like that.
I spent the majority of the flight watching her when she wasn’t looking, which as it turned out was most of the time. I came to know the smooth curve of her neck, studying the spot where it connected at the spine. Her flat stomach was something that could be appreciated, and to top it off, I found it quite appealing the way her breasts rounded out that hideous uniform.
Her chestnut hair, possibly the only fake thing about her, was tied neatly up, resting gently at the base of her skull. Her eyebrows are perfection, neither too thick nor too thin, not like you see on most women. She wasn’t beautiful in the striking kind of way, but more subtly, in the natural kind of way.
If I had to pinpoint one thing that both gave her away and solidified it for me…it would have to be the faint crease etched in the skin between her brow. She’s a deep thinker, something I find suitable to my tastes.
She didn’t seem to notice me watching. That or she didn’t care. In her line of work, she’s probably used to it. I couldn’t yet tell, so I focused on the things I knew. First principles and all. Her nose, slightly up turned, was a little too small for her face but preferable over the alternative. However, it was those eyes that captured and held my attention more than anything. Heavy-lidded, somewhere between blue and green, like the ocean on a cloudy day. And don’t get me started on that mouth of hers. It’s indescribable. I’d better not try.
Straight-backed and purposeful, it was captivating the way she walked the aisle. Every now and again, she’d let out a small sigh, as though there was really something else she’d rather be doing.
Inevitably, I started trying to figure out what that something else was.
Like I said, it was a long flight.
Straight away I knew that she was married. She wore a simple gold band, tasteful and understated. It bothered me in the sense that a woman like that should have more, should want more, but it made her interesting in that she apparently didn’t.
I hadn’t thought that she might have children. A wife, I could picture her in that role. The kids were a curveball I hadn’t seen coming. She didn’t seem like the motherly type. It’s funny the way you think you know a person and then out of nowhere they go and surprise you.
I suppose that’s where it all started, with the curveball.
A seed was planted and with it the decision was made. I had to follow her. It was supposed to be a one-off thing. Just to see what new bit of information I might get out of it. It wasn’t like I was stalking her. I was curious, is all.
It was simple stuff I watched her do at first. Mundane things, everyday things. Things like dropping her daughter at school. I found it amusing, the way she practically shoved her out with a distant smile. At the gas pump, I studied her profile and noted the way she pulled a cloth from her backseat, careful not to touch the handle. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was always so discreet.
I followed her to the airport. She brakes hard, follows too closely, and drives just above the speed limit. I worry about her on the road. I worry about her everywhere.
That’s why, despite the shit show that it turned out to be, I was glad I was there in the grocery store that evening. Anti-stalking laws aside, if it weren’t for me, she’d be dead.
Chapter Fourteen
Charlotte
Where you’re supposed to be is on a plane bound for Chi-town, on a cloudy day, with terrible weather. You don’t mind because you’re doing what you were born to do and you’re getting paid to do it.
Me, I’m standing at the bottom of the stairs in the foyer that’s covered in flowers and cards in a home that doesn’t feel like my own. But only in a physical sort of way. The rest of me is I don’t know where.
On that plane headed for O’Hare, maybe. In that bloody grocery store, perhaps. In the school auditorium, occasionally.
It’s a double-edged sword, fame is. One day you’re shopping for the perfect laxative in which to dose your teenage daughter’s crush, just to prove a point, and the next you’re bombarded with reporters trampling your lawn. Suddenly, life is magnified. Lights, camera, action.
Suddenly, you’re a character in your own life. And the rest of your family is the supporting cast.
The doorbell rings again. I don’t move to open it. What’s the point, if they just keep coming? Not that I can blame them. The well-wishers. It’s a circus around here, and everyone loves a good sideshow. They all want to know how we’re doing. Considering.
I can’t come right out and say it, but personally, I feel fine. Well, fine if you ignore the fact that I’ve become a glorified prisoner in my own home. Media tents and trucks line the block. The neighbors have delivered endless casseroles and flowers and still they don’t seem even half as put out as I am about all of the extra sets of eyes canvassing the neighborhood.
