Pandora #2
“But you aren’t saying worse now,” I point out with a feral smile. “Come on. You want to hurt her the way she hurt you, right?”
“You can’t do… Pandora, you can’t send out videos of her,” Carly says.
I roll my eyes. “Duh, of course not. Where would I get the footage? But we can do something, right? Something small? A minor inconvenience.”
“I’m scared to think of what you’d consider a minor inconvenience,” Samantha says.
Maybe a few days ago, I’d have thought she wouldn’t be willing to retaliate at all, but that had been before she’d played the video of Keegan on repeat. There’s a part of her that wants to lash out at the people who hurt her.
“We’ll make her day a little worse, that’s all.” I wiggle my fingers at Samantha. “Come on. Tell me. What did she say? I have to know how hard to hit.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” she says, sighing.
But I can see it.
I’ve got her.
“She called me a few names,” Samantha continues. “I don’t know what the equivalent is, unless you’re wanting to spread rumors about her supposed chastity.”
Huh. That feels kind of mild. People call me a slut all the time.
When I don’t respond, Samantha goes on. “It’s dumb. But the whole group was there, and they started laughing, and…” She clenches her fists.
Okay, fuck that. All of those holier-than-thou assholes need to burn.
“Oh, honey.” Carly reaches out to put her hand on top of Samantha’s. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not sorry,” I declare. “We’re going to get even.”
Carly shakes her head, but Samantha gives me a hungry expression.
I know exactly what to do to give Samantha what she wants.
“I’m not doing this,” Carly says mulishly.
I roll my eyes. Samantha, at least, is hefting her bat and testing out the swing. I’d gotten the heaviest I could find, solid wood that was designed to withstand a lot of impact.
We’re in the parking lot of the church her group attends. I’ve already spray painted the cameras overlooking the parking lot, and all three of us are wearing ski masks and heavy layers.
It’s cold, after all.
Also, we don’t want anyone to recognize us.
“Which car is Katarina’s?” I ask. “Tell me it’s the fancy luxury sedan.”
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Samantha says, her words an echo of Carly’s but in the reverse. She sounds breathless, and I’m not sure if it’s from uncertainty or anticipation. “Okay. Um. I think it’s the blue hatchback over there. But I don’t want to be wrong and get someone else’s car.”
“I mean, the entire group was being dicks to you, so we can hit a few extra cars to be on the safe side,” I say. I walk up to the hatchback. It has a vanity plate that reads GdLvsMe, and isn’t that the most arrogant thing ever?
At this point, I don’t really care whose car it is.
“You want to hit with full force,” I say. “Let’s start with the mirrors. Those are easier to destroy, and with all the fiddly electronics inside, they aren’t even that cheap to replace.”
I do a slow-motion whack on the mirror to show Samantha how it’s done.
“We’re going to get in so much trouble if we get caught,” Samantha hedges. But she lifts the bat anyway, and I’m proud to see that she goes all-in from the start as she swings at the mirror with full force.
The mirror cracks and breaks. I add my own whack, and that makes the mirror break off entirely, left to dangle on the side of the car.
Fuck, that’s a rush.
Carly makes a distressed sound. “You guys…”
“If you aren’t going to demolish cars with us, at least play lookout,” I say to her.
“We’re only going to do a little more,” Samantha reassures her. “Right, Pandora?”
“Uh-huh,” I say, swinging my bat again.
This time, I bring it down on the windshield. It cracks immediately, but the glass is actually surprisingly solid.
“Hit in the same spot I did,” I say, pointing with my bat.
Samantha hesitates this time, then mutters, “She probably has great insurance.” She hits the splintering spot hard, and cracks spread across the windshield. Then she hits it again. And again.
She must have more anger to take out than she wants to admit.
As soon as the windshield shatters, the car alarm goes off, like it was waiting for a full breach into the interior.
“Shit!” Carly glances around frantically. “Are we done?”
“Eh, I think we’ve got a few more seconds.” I take my bat to the other mirror, while Samantha slams hers into the side windows.
This is so much fun.
I haven’t destroyed a car in ages. For the last one, Ares and Kratos had been there and we’d disabled the car alarm first. The teacher had been a dick to one of Ares’s friends.
We’re nice like that, always looking out for our own.
I hum to myself as I keep whacking the car.
“Guys! Somebody’s coming out of the church!” Carly shouts.
“Okay, now we’re done,” I say with a wild grin. I grab Samantha’s gloved hand. “Come on. Time to run!”
Samantha lets me take her hand, and she lets out a manic laugh as I pull her away from the car. She drops the bat from her other hand, leaving it behind as we put distance between ourselves and the car we’d just demolished.
We both laugh as we run, Carly on our heels. Somebody shouts at us from behind, but they don’t give chase, and we reach our parked—and stolen—getaway car without a hitch.
I get into the driver’s seat and yank off my ski mask, waiting only until Samantha and Carly are both in the car before I hit the gas.
“Pandora! I don’t have my seatbelt on yet!” Carly complains.
I burst out laughing. “Time is of the essence! It’s not a getaway if we don’t get away.”
“We really did that,” Samantha says, and I don’t know what to make of her tone. Is she happy? Ashamed?
As exhilarated as I am?
“Fuck. What if they figure out it was us?” Carly whines in the back seat.
“They won’t,” I say with confidence. “Don’t worry so much, Carly. We took all the right precautions. No cameras, no witnesses, this isn’t even our car—”
“You’re returning it, right?” Carly interrupts.
I sigh in annoyance. “Of course I am. They won’t even know we took it. Unless they keep track of mileage, but it was, what, two miles at most?”
Samantha tugs at her mask but doesn’t pull it off yet. “I hope it was the right car,” she says.
“Even if it wasn’t, who the fuck gets a vanity plate that says God Loves Me?” I shake my head. “Only an arrogant dick. How presumptuous!”
Samantha shakes her head, but she’s weirdly silent.
I pause at a stop sign and look at her. “Hey. You were amazing. I’m really proud of you.”
She breathes out slowly. “Yeah,” she says, cracking a smile, though it fades a few seconds later. “I don’t know if that was worth being proud of. Maybe if it had been Ezio’s car.”
I clench my hands on the steering wheel. “Well, y’know. Car damage wouldn’t be enough there. He’s going to get something far worse.”
A destroyed car is a minor inconvenience. Insurance and a body shop will fix it right up. Anybody who attends Dyschord can afford to get their vehicle fixed.
No, Ezio’s fate is going to have to match Zayden’s.
Be worse than Zayden’s.
Considering I sawed off Zayden’s limbs while he was still alive, I’m going to have to be very, very creative with Ezio.
I will not be inviting Samantha and Carly along for that one.