Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 16186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 81(@200wpm)___ 65(@250wpm)___ 54(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 81(@200wpm)___ 65(@250wpm)___ 54(@300wpm)
“I am not here about the girl. How many times do I need to say that? I am here about Ruslan. I know he has been staying in your safehouse, Yonis. I want directions and a floorplan.” He looks at me, like he has for the last few hours, with a blank expression masked by fear. Exhausted, and quickly becoming unable to handle this right now, I press the button on the conveyor belt and watch him get closer to the woodchipper below his feet, praying he gives me what I want so I don’t have to test whether or not I can handle the smell of blood anymore.
“I don't know anything. Please. Stop!” he cries, and I press the button to stop it.
“Then give me what I want.”
“You have to understand he will kill my family if I…” For fuck’s sake. I press the button again and listen while he screams. His feet make contact and the blood sprays into the air coming down like red rain. It falls at my feet like toxic poison, but also serves as a gateway to another world where vengeance is gotten. His screams fill the air, tortured and bleak like the choir of death.
I press the button knowing he has maybe minutes before the loss of blood drains him and seconds before I lose the little food I have eaten. “Tell me and I will make the pain go away.” He is wheezing, life leaving his eyes. He looks at me and whispers.
“My pocket. Thumb print. Text message.” His last words before he is gone. I pull his phone from his pocket, place his thumb on it and turn to walk away. Before I reach the car, I turn around. Pulling my pocketknife from my pants, I climb the ladder I used to string him, grab his hand, and slice his thumb off. I put it in a napkin and place it in my pocket. What? I am going to need it plenty. Dropping my calling card, I stumble to the car, feeling like I was given a dose of something.
I barely make it back to the car when the smell of copper gets me, and I lose the very little inside of my gut. Over and over I wretch on the side of my car, gasping for relief but finding none. Finally, an eternity later, I stop vomiting and sag against the car, “Jesus. You are not going to give me a break are you?” Getting in the car, I open the window, so I don’t have to smell my own vomit lined mouth. Key in the ignition, I stop and take a second, thinking about where this is going to go.
A week ago I woke up, feeling dizzy and not like myself. I thought I was coming down with something and took some Dayquil and kept on going. Two days later, I found myself in a doctor's office, using a translation app to tell them my symptoms and trying to understand what they were saying to me. At the end of it, they told me I was pregnant.
Pregnant.
Me.
I sat in their patient room, confused and in denial. I mean there is no way in hell I can be pregnant. I am a killer. A woman out for vengeance, destined to die or spend her life in jail. There is no way I can be carrying something so innocent and fragile inside of me.
I walked out of there, stumbling my way to my car before it hit me, and I cried. I wrapped my arms around my waist and cried for this life that is going to be ruined if born to me. I cried for the life I can never have with the man I will always love but have to run from. I simply cried. Once I was done, I knew what I had to do. I cannot have this baby. I mean of course I can have it and give it up for adoption, but then what? He or she turns 18 and looks for me to find, what? A mother who is a serial killer? A mother who dies by the same sword she lived by?
So, I decided to go to a clinic and have it taken care of. Only when I drove there, I couldn't do it. I physically could not get out of the car. I told myself I needed a little more time to come to terms with the decision I had to make and that is where I am in that process. Coming to terms and seems the baby is making itself known. Reminding me the clock is ticking. Like a bomb ready to shred what is left of my heart when I have to do it.
I pull up outside of the property where Yonis is hiding Ruslan. I have been here for hours, staking it out trying to figure out a way in and maybe I can get out of here in one piece. So far as I can tell there are five maybe six men inside. I have seen them coming and going in the last two hours.