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When I try to pull away from her, she holds on fast, tears streaming down her beautiful face, making it glisten.
It breaks my heart, more than I can even quantify. But I go anyways. I use the anger within me…the fact that I must leave a woman I love more than my own life…to go after Thomas.
When I reach him, he’s leaning against the railing. He’s probably thinking about Rebecca and I and stewing in hurt.
I don’t care.
“There doesn’t seem to be any noticeable damage from what I can see.” I call his attention with my observation.
He doesn’t turn around, but he heard me.
“Then you’re blind. There’s rust on other landing that would probably cave under the extreme weight we might put on it. If you look to your left, you’ll see craters close to the draw floor.” Thomas has the expertise; I must give it to him.
What I don’t give, however, is a care in the world as to whatever he’s talking about.
Hell, I don’t even look in the direction he pointed.
That’s not what I’m here for, plain and simple. My Glock is already out, and my finger is on the trigger.
I could do it now…now is my chance to put an end to this abomination of a human being once and for all.
Before that, though, I would like to get a few words in. It would do me better satisfaction to have him look me in the eye and recognize me as the son of the man he killed in cold blood.
Hence, I tuck the gun back in its holster.
“Rayan Ali Ghulam. Sounds familiar?” I start stalking closer.
He turns, but without urgency. The stereotypical arrogance is still coursing through his contaminated veins.
“You know, there was just something fishy about you that I just couldn’t place.” There’s an annoying smirk on his face as he talks.
What does he think I’m here for? A reunion?
“So…you’re the kid, huh? I was lucky I got there in time. Jesus! You could have actually stopp?”
My fists connect with Thomas’s jaw sending him sprawling to the ground and silencing him immediately.
“Does that feel great?” I mock him.
“Agh…not really. Think you can hit harder?” he has the guts to say.
With pleasure.
It’s a kick this time, right to his stomach. He’s a lanky fellow, so his body leaves the ground from the sheer force of my kick.
Thomas flips over and lands on his back.
Still, much to my indignation, he’s still laughing.
“Ah, yes! You hit like a pussy! Come to think of it, you might not have been able to stop me when I came that night with those weak ass punches.”
I know exactly what Thomas is doing. He’s rage-baiting. It’s glaring that he’s trying to give himself a fighting chance…and I don’t mind.
I’ll let him see that in every scenario now, and in the next, he would never stand a chance against me.
I want him to feel just how lucky he was that I came too late.
“Get up, then,” I growl bitterly. “Get up and fight me. I won’t kill you when you’re powerless just like you did my father.”
