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“You,” she seethes, lifting her bottle. She attempts to hit me with it, but I step to the side, and all it makes contact with is the air around her. She falls forward with the motion, and I grab the bottle from her. I watch, and as if in slow motion, she lands on her face.
Well, shit.
That probably hurt.
Sucks to be her.
But it could’ve been worse, I guess. She could have landed on the bottle.
“You good down there?”
She attempts to get up but then decides to just lie on the sidewalk. Arms at her sides as if she can’t be bothered to even attempt to rectify her situation.
“You know someone has probably pissed where your face is, right?”
She says nothing, and when I lean down, I see that her eyes are closed. Poking her face with my finger, I get no response. I check her pulse as I hear footsteps approaching.
Looking up, I see both of my brothers standing there.
“Who’s the chick?” Zuko asks, nodding to her.
“She kicked me in the balls at the wedding.”
“So why did we stop?” Kenzo asks.
“Stop poking her,” Zuko says, so I do it again for good measure. She turns her head to the other side. “She looks young,” he notes.
“Her mouth says otherwise,” I reply, remembering how she spoke to me. I reach for her wrist and turn it over. There’s a butterfly tattooed on her skin and a small bag attached to her wrist. Removing the bag, I look inside, where there’s an ID and nothing else. Not even a dollar.
Kenzo takes her ID card and studies it. “Twenty-three,” he says, flicking the card back my way. “What do you plan to do with her?”
I stand and look down. “She can sleep here,” I say, then turn to walk away.
“Kyson,” Zuko says.
“What? She kicked me in the balls. She deserves it.” A soft snore leaves her as I stride back. Reaching down, I lift her. She weighs almost nothing as I throw her over my shoulder. “Damn! This woman needs to eat something.”
“She looks homeless,” Kenzo adds.
“Fuck, we’re late,” Zuko says as we get to the car. “Put her in the back. We have to go.” I do as he says and sit in the back with her, Kenzo taking the passenger seat. Glancing down at her head in my lap and her body tucked up into a small ball, I wonder why the fuck she’s still wearing that dress. It’s no longer white and has for sure seen better days. What’s her story? Shaking my head, I look up to see Kenzo watching me.
“You went to see Lilly.”
“I did.”
“You left her,” he adds like I need the reminder.
“I did,” I reply.
His gaze flicks to the woman asleep next to me. I don’t even know her name.
“She used their safe word in her vows,” Zuko informs him and Kenzo’s eyes go wide.
“Did you want to kill her?” Kenzo asks, obviously knowing me too well.
Because, you know, that’s our answer to every damn thing.
We kill.
