Page 72 of Nine

“It doesn’t make it go away. My brother’s gone, and I got my justice on Victor. It doesn’t take away the pain. It’s still there.” I tap my hand against my chest.

The doorknob starts to jiggle from within. He’s coming outside and in that split second I tackle her, tossing her up against the wall. The knife falls. I kick it back, pushing it off the landing and downstairs.

“No.” She bangs on my chest. Her head falls on my shoulder as I grip her tight. She’s sobbing, and just as he’s about to come outside, I swing her around so she can’t see him. She’s fucking lost it and this asshole strolls out and gives me a dirty stare. He has no idea I just saved his life. I’m holding her tightly as she thrashes around in my arms. I keep my eye on him, because I know this isn’t over. As soon as he’s out of sight, I slowly release Nine.

“Look at me,” I shout.

She’s spaced out like a zombie. I grab her face in both of my hands.

“You’re going to go fix yourself up, and get your ass back to that photo shoot. None of this shit happened. You weren’t here. You never saw him. Hear me?”

“But—”

“But nothing. I’ll handle it. Now go.” I point her towards the opposite way of where her Uncle walked.

She pulls away from me. The realization sets in of what I’m telling her. She starts to furiously shake her head.

“Trig. No.”

“Get the fuck out of here, Nine. Now!” I yell.

She backs up. I can see wet mascara stains on her cheek. She runs away, and I pray that the two of them don’t cross paths in the meantime. I breathe out slowly to calm my nerves, as I look over the balcony. The sharp knife is laying on the ground below.

“Holy shit,” I breathe out.

She was this close to killing him. I let that sink in. I run both of my hands down my face. She was ten fucking years old when he molested her. I stand there wondering if I should have let her do it. No. I tell myself. She would never be the same.

I know I wasn’t the same after I committed my first murder. I start thinking back to the day that I did it. I remember so badly that I didn’t want to carry it out. The Savior forced me to. The guy was laying there on the floor with his hands and legs bound. The Savior told me that once I got over my fear, there was nothing to it. I refused, at first. I shoved the gun back at him, and then he reminded me of my sister and how killing her kids would be child’s play. I hated him. He placed the gun in my hand and told me this would be my amateur killing and that if I didn’t do it he’d place one call and blow up my sister’s house. I walked over and the man on the floor began to whimper. He was begging me not to do it. I was sick to my stomach.

“Cock the gun, Trig. We don’t have all day. I have others I need you to take care of.”

“I can’t,” I shout.

The Savior picks up his phone.

“Stop,” I say.

I aim the gun at the man. He’s crying. I’ve never saw a grown man so scared before. I cock the gun and look at The Savior who seems to be barely grinning. It just makes me sicker.

“Go on,” he encourages me. “The faster, the better.”

It feels like I’m going to pass out. I can barely hold the gun straight. My teeth are chattering from nerves. I point the gun at the man’s head. He’s terrified. His eyes are big and he keeps begging. He won’t shut up. He’s saying whatever he can to make me lower the gun. From behind me, The Savior is yelling that time is running out, and I can’t think. I can’t breathe. I pull the trigger and then it’s over. Silence fills the room and I drop the gun. I collapse next to the body. I’m shaking and rocking back and forth. I start to hear a gurgle and look up to see the man is not dead yet.

“You’ll have to finish him off, Trig,” The Savior says.

“I’m not fucking doing that again,” I shout.

I bend over and throw up. My nerves are fried and I don’t have it in me. The Savior bends down and hands me a napkin first. I wipe my mouth with it. He then hands me a knife. I refuse to take it.

“Sooner or later, everything you touch will be used as a weapon. Get used to it.”

“I did my job. I’m done,” I say.

“The first kill is always hardest. I’ll do it this time, but after this one, you’re on your own. You finish everything you start. Understand?”

He walks over and leans down next to the man. I watch in horror as he quickly draws the knife across his throat. The blood spills out and I can’t even breathe.

“Knives are messy, but they always do the trick.”

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