Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
“Execution-style.”
I clench my back teeth to keep the dismay off my face. “When?”
“Tonight.” He leans back, spreading his arm across the back of the bench. His expression says he thinks I’m going to fail.
I slide out of my chair. “I’ll see you later.”
3
Leka
“You’re wet,” she says when I creep into the spare room.
I’m too tired to be shocked that she’s decided to talk.
“Yeah, I took a shower.” Shooting someone in the face is surprisingly messy. I wasn’t prepared for the splatter. I will be next time. My stomach clenches. Next time.
I rub a hand across my forehead and toss the sleeping bags I picked up onto the floor.
“Hey, come on out. I got us some different shi—stuff to sleep on.” I’m too weary to wait for her to come out of the closet. Instead, I unroll the bags and place a couple towels under hers. Tomorrow I’ll get a pillow.
I drop to my ass and wriggle down into the tube of nylon. The minute my head hits the floor, my eyes float shut.
A few moments later, I feel the weight of her stare. I twist around and find her standing inches from my head.
“What’s up?”
“Do you—” She points toward my body. “Should I—” She wrings her small hands together. It’s weird hearing her talk. She must really need something.
I prop myself up on an elbow. “You need to go to the bathroom? Hungry?”
When she doesn’t say anything, I drop back to the bag. Little people are kinda freaky, I decide. My eyes drift shut again. I’m so fucking worn out. Pulling that trigger wasn’t easy tonight. I thought it would be. Don’t know why. It’s not like I thought it was going to be movie-like, but I didn’t think I’d still be tasting the copper of the man’s blood on my tongue hours later. I shudder a little and pull the corner of the bag up higher so the kid can’t see me. I don’t like looking weak in front of anyone. Not even a five-year-old.
I sense, more than hear, her shuffle near. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot her little ankles. Then her knees as she bends down. Then her— I lunge forward, grab her arms and jerk her into a sitting position. Bile shoots up my throat.
“What the fuck?” I yell.
She jerks back, stumbling and tripping over the sleeping bag I’d laid out for her. She draws her knees up, close to her chest, until all I can see is her little peanut head sticking out the top of the large sweatshirt, like a round jack-in-the box. Her body starts shaking.
I crawl over to her, unsure of what to do. I run a light hand down her back.
“Shit. I didn’t mean to shout at you,” I say. She trembles even harder, so I shift away. “I’m not mad. You just caught me off-guard.” Still nothing. “Can I get you something? Like a water?”
I run a hand over my face. What in the hell do I do now? I probably scared the shit out of her. But to be fair, she scared the shit out of me. If this is the shit she was doing, no wonder she ran away.
“Do you want me to leave?” I ask. Maybe I make her uncomfortable. She’s obviously been abused in ways that I don’t even want to think about.
I’m about to take off when she turns and throws herself at me. Just launches herself like a rocket and all I can do is catch her. I stagger and then drop to my knees. She clings to me like a scared kitten I just saved from drowning.
I pat her lightly on the back, getting angrier and angrier with each passing moment. Yeah, a lot of kids out there are abused. Most of the girls that walk the streets probably were raped or assaulted or beaten at some point. I’ve got a couple scars on my back, but holding this tiny human as she sobs, part from fear and part from relief, makes me want to fish the gun I tossed into the river and put a bullet into every dick that I see.
“It’s going to be okay,” I assure her.
I’m not sure she hears me, but her head digs into my chin as she nestles close. I don’t know how long we sit there, but eventually her heaves turn to sniffles and then to snores. My legs are numb by then. I lift her up and stretch out. I try to lay her onto the sleeping bag, but she’s velcroed herself tight against me, even in sleep. I give up trying to separate us.
Since she doesn’t weigh more than a bag of flour, it’s easy enough to hold her with one arm and unzip the two bags. I lie down on one and throw the other on top of us. She remains asleep the entire time.