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“Fu-huckyeah,” I grinned and we headed off in search of some wild colors to use on her fine blonde hair. Mine would never take to dye, it was too coarse and dark and I didn’t want to destroy it with bleach to get it pink. I would have fun with Nat instead.
We were perusing the hair aisle when I heard a familiar voice from a short distance away.
“I don’t care which one you like, dear, just pick one,” Thackeray said, a nasal whine in his tone that set my teeth on edge.
I was immediately on high alert and had an overwhelming need to see him, to hunt him down and spy on him.
I handed Nat a hundred dollar bill and said, “Could you run to the food court and grab me a Coke? I’m so thirsty. I’ll buy these colors and meet you at the entrance.”
“Really?” she asked, looking at the crisp bill. “Can I get myself something?”
“You can keep the change,” I replied and rubbed her head, messing up her hair. “Knock yourself out, I’ll meet you in fifteen.”
I watched her run off, a spring in her step at her newfound wealth, and I yearned to feel that happy about something simple.
Instead I slunk down the aisles of the store until I spotted Thackeray and the lady who had been with him that night at the concert. He was sitting at the dressing rooms with packages and bags spread out all around him. He looked annoyed and kept staring at his watch like he was needed somewhere else.
My breath caught in my throat and the rage I felt blinded me to every other emotion that swam under the surface of my mind.
Pure, white anger controlled me, and as if I was in a dream, I walked up another aisle. I slipped my gloves on as I walked, and pulled the hood of my black, knee length wool coat over my head to keep my face in shadow. I dropped the basket full of hair dye onto the floor for later. I paused by a dress rack, grabbed one that would fit me, and kept walking.
A staff member was putting out scarves and had left their box cutter on top of a pile of cardboard boxes.
I strode past, grabbed it quickly, and kept going. Everything was lining up perfectly, like the clouds had cleared and a sliver of sunlight shone on exactly what I was supposed to do. This was my time at last.
I walked through the store, brushed by Thackeray, and went into the change room. I turned around as my door closed and I looked at him deliberately, catching his attention on purpose.
His eyes widened in surprise and the satisfaction it gave me was nearly orgasmic. I was the last person he expected to see in a high-end department store just before Christmas.
I waited with the door slightly open and like clockwork, he fell for my bait.
He pushed in aggressively, ready to frighten me I was sure. He thought he could intimidate me, but I was no longer that girl. The girl who was a ghost, who flitted through life in the shadows, the sad girl who had nobody to love, not even herself.
Thackeray opened his mouth to speak, but I was faster. Before he got a word out of his disgusting mouth, I raised my hand and swept the box cutter across his throat. He made a gurgled gasp of surprise that was cut short as he began to bleed out.
I took the dress I was going to try on and pressed it against his neck. His eyes bulged as his mouth worked open and shut. The same mouth that had ordered men to do terrible things to me. The one that had smirked at me and twisted into smug smiles filled with power and control.
Now it was twisted in horror as his life came to an end at the girl he’d underestimated. The girl he’d tried to control without realizing you couldn’t harness the wind. You couldn’t contain a force like me.
His body sagged against mine, and I helped him sink to his knees onto the floor of the change room. I left the dress I’d taken from the rack wrapped around his neck and settled him on his ass with his back against the wall, his legs splayed out like a broken doll.
I pulled the hood of my jacket over my head, zipped it up, and put the box cutter in Thackeray’s left hand. I had no idea if it would give them the idea that he’d killed himself, or if it would make it look worse. At that moment, I didn’t care. I just wanted to get away and replay the moment over and over because it felt so good.
I adjusted my jacket again to cover any blood that might have spattered onto my clothing, and made the resolution to always wear black from that day forward. I could hide blood that way andalwaysbe prepared.
I opened the door again, looked back and forth, and stepped out into the crowded store.
Nobody noticed me leaving. Nobody would have ever thought that the simple girl who bent to pick up a basket of hair dye had just murdered one of the henchmen of the Organization.
And nobody would have ever suspected that it felt that good.
That I felt that good.
One down, more to go.
Planning be damned, I was a natural at killing and doing what was right.
I was at the register paying for my hair dye when I heard a blood curdling scream. A woman crying the name, “Gerald, Gerald,” over and over again and I smiled quietly to myself.
