Cass
PLAYLIST: DIRTY HANDS (GONE MAD) – KENDRA DANTES
It is late at night, and the city across the Hudson River shimmers in its thousands of lights as I get onto the roof of the harbor tower in Weehawken.
“Yooo, C,” says Nikki, who has apparently been waiting for me, “You’re late.”
“Lots of traffic,” I say, hugging the tall woman with her long red hair up in a tight ponytail, as always. Traffic is a synonym for cops flying low; they really are a pest at the moment.
“Yeah, meh,” she says. “Something’s up.”
“Bet,” I say as we both walk around the solar panels and sit onto the railing. A railing that means sure death if we slip, but offers the most epic view of Manhattan. And what do we care? We live as recklessly as it gets on a daily basis.
“So, what’s up?” asks Nikki. Nikki has become a part of the family, my baby brother’s girl. Way too good for him in my opinion, but they are an unbeatable team.
“I need you for a job,” I say. “It’s not a small thing, and it’s most certainly the riskiest we have done.”
“Listening,” she says, grinning. The moment I said ‘riskiest’, her eyes lit up.
“This one’s not the typical bang-boom-bang,” I say. “It’s proper planning and precise execution.”
“Whatever,” she says. “Spit it out.”
“I am going after them,” I say without looking at her but fixing my eyes on the illuminated skyline.
“It’s a suicide mission,” says Nikki, and maybe it is, but maybe it’s not.
“I won’t march into their headquarters and pull a gun,” I say.
“She’s dead,” says Nikki. “She doesn’t care. Her father was murdered. Dead people don’t give a fuck.”
“I need to make things right,” I say, the hairs on my arms standing up because the thought of injustice triggers such a reaction in me.
“It won’t change anything,” Nikki says with a softer voice.
“It will change everything,” I say harshly, because I am not allowing anyone to soften me.
Nikki doesn’t immediately answer. Instead, she slides onto the roof with her feet, turns, and lets herself fall back while holding onto the railing—dangling her head back into the depth of the height.
“You’re crazy,” I say.
“It’s freedom,” she says, chuckling, and removing one hand.
I get wet hands from watching it, and I shake my head.
Nikki is a different build. I speed. She climbs. My brother, Jackson, fights. Well, me too. There’s nothing like a good fight. We’re all dealing with the past, one better than the other.
“You’re crazy for going after a dead man,” Nikki says when she gets back up.
“It’s his legacy; ruining it will make him forgotten.”
“He has a fucking Wikipedia article; no one will forget,” Nikki says.
She’s such a realist it sometimes annoys me.
I’m a doer. An act-first-and-think-later kind of person who is emotionally charged and driven by principles.
Nikki has no emotions at all; everything follows logic, a plan. Which is why I need her for this job.
“If you ask me,” Nikki says, “It’s guilt talking.”
“Guilt?” I ask incredulously.
“Uh-huh,” she says and pulls herself back onto the railing, swings over it, and walks away.
“What guilt?” I shout after her, turning my head.
“The guilt of not fighting harder for her,” she calls behind herself without looking at me.
I stare after her long after she is gone as I process what she just said.
I should’ve fought harder for Elise. Should have pulled her out of the life she never wanted. Made her listen. Should’ve done more.
My fingertips dig into the cold metal of the railing.
My gaze wanders back to the skyline and the depth below my feet.
I should’ve done many things.
I swing myself off the railing and slip back down, and slip back into my Hellcat.
I drive.
And drive.
Because I can’t think straight.
I can’t have these feelings of guilt for all the things I should have done in me.
There is only one way to make all of this right.
Destroying everything her father has built, and if it’s the last thing I’ll do.
I’m almost up in Albany when a dark green Camaro shoots past me.
I smirk because Nikki must have been following me the entire time, making sure I’m not doing any stupid shit again. Like I said, she’s too good for my brother and everyone else, including me
I downshift and step onto the throttle with full force; I’m always in for a race.
We overtake each other several times just for the fun of it and come to a halt at a red light.
I let down the window.
“Have you been following me the entire time?” I ask her. I was so absent I didn’t even notice.
“You’re lucky I’m not a cop.”
“I’d make them out a mile away,”
“Sure,” Nikki says, laughing. “So what’s the job?”
I hesitate a moment.
“We’re taking down one company at a time,” I say. “Keep what we need and give the rest to the hood.”
“How many are we talking?”
“Seven.”
“You wanna destroy seven multi-national companies?” Nikki asks incredulously. “You’re a car girl, not a fucking professional gangster.”
“It’s for her,” I say, a quick glance in the rear mirror. The one I saw her in the last time. “And if I have to shoot the board of each and every one of them personally.”
“Cass, I love you, you know that, but you are operating on crazy.”
“Then why are you here?” I ask, my expression hardening. I don’t need a lecture.
She chuckles. “Because I love crazy. Quarter mile?”
“You’ll never win with that,” I say.
“One day,” Nikki says.
The light turns green, and my Hellcat roars as I beat her down the road.
And just this moment, everything doesn’t feel as bad as it usually does. Speed kills every thought in my mind. And when the day comes, I hope speed kills me—it’d be just about right.