Chapter 41
“You ready, little one?”
It’s throwing out time.
It’s time to face my past and put Lucy Cook behind me, along with my demons.
“I’m ready.” My voice is strong, steady, my heart beat normal. Nothing about my demeanour screams murderer. But that’s what I’m about to become.
A murderer. To murder him.
Murder the man who took so much from me.
I’ve been with Andrews for two years.
Two years of recovering, two years of training, two years of becoming Kara Snow. But I can’t truly embrace my future unless I let go of my past.
Which is why I’m sitting here, in the darkened alley, in the idling car.
To bury my past.
To say goodbye to Owen and Lucy.
James falls out of the pub, his laughter rich and obnoxious. We’ve sat here before, in this very spot. He’ll cross the road, he’ll take out his shrivelled cock, and he’ll take a piss before he zig zags his way back to his flat, where he passes out.
I’ve stood over him whilst the fuck sleeps soundly, whilst he twitches and dribbles into his pillow. I’ve been watching, waiting for this moment.
Like clockwork, he crosses towards us. Andrews turns the ignition off.
“Goodbye, Lucy.” He smiles at me, reassuring, strong, protective.
I never thought I’d be seen again, not after Owen. Not after feeling so invisible. But Andrews sees me.
Sees my potential. Sees my skill. Sees my demons. One of which is currently taking a piss at the top of the alley.
I open the car door and step out. My boots land in a puddle, but I don’t care. My focus is solely on him. I pull out the knife as I walk towards him.
Andrews turns on the headlights.
James throws his arm up to shield his eyes from the bright light. “Hey, what the fuck, man?”
I step closer. He can’t see me, not with the light temporarily blinding him.
I stop in front of him, my heartbeat still steady.
“Hello, James.”
“Y-You,” he says, seeing the knife.
I lunge.
He dodges.
I don’t miss.
My knife sinks into his stomach. I pull it out as his eyes widen in surprise and fear. He grips his gut, but I plunge my knife in again, and again, and again.
Blood coats my hand. It’s sticky, it’s thick, it’s so, so red.
He falls to the floor, falling into his own piss, which mixes with the blood.
I spit on his dead body, and glance back at the car where Andrews is watching with a smirk on his face.
He turns off the headlights, and darkness swallows me whole.