Page 72 of Angel

“Come out, come out, you snake. I’m gonna put a bullet between your eyes, and then I’m gonna go fuck that woman of yours.”

I hiss, first from the shooting pain in my arm, and then because this fucker thinks he’s going to touch Angel—that’s funny. I rip a corner of my shirt off, and using my teeth, I wrap it tightly around my wound to stop the bleeding. With the makeshift bandage firmly in place, I go for my piece and hold it up in front of me, pointing to the sky.

I always knew Mouse was a stupid fucker. With each step, the crunch of dirt and rocks sounds under his boots, and I can hear him getting closer. So, I wait patiently, until I get my chance to strike.

Closer.

Closer.

Closer.

Now. I jump up, aiming the end of my barrel right at his ugly fucking head. “Bingo, motherfucker.” His eyes widen. But I quickly redirect my aim to his shoulder, the same spot where he shot me, and pull the trigger.

BAM.

“Fuck!” He drops his gun, clenching a hand to the new hole in his arm.

I stalk closer. “I always fucking hated you.”

“Fuck you, asshole!” He spits at my feet, still clutching his wound. I stare down at the spit that marred the tip of my boot and crack my neck.

This son of a bitch. I grab him by his leather, one-handed, and sneer in his face. “I’m going to put a bullet in your head, but not before I cut off your fingers for putting them inside my woman.”

I kick his gun away, tossing him to the ground, and stalk toward our former President. He’s lying dead in a pool of his own blood. I pull my boot knife out of his neck and stalk back to Mouse. His eyes fill with fear, and he’s trembling. Shuddering like the little bitch he is.

“No, man, y-you don’t have to do this! Please, I’m s-sorry. I-m sorry for touching your woman. I won’t touch her again. I promise. If you let me go, I’ll disappear. You’ll never hear from me again. I swear.” Snot comes out of his nostrils like a kid throwing a tantrum.

I crouch down, and he tries to scurry back, but I hold him in place. The sting from my bullet wound runs through me. I ignore it. I can easily ignore pain. “What did Scorpion tell you? What were his plans?”

“N-nothing, I swear. He didn’t tell me shit!” I grab his right hand and take my knife to one of his fingers. “Wait! No, please! Stop! Don—”

An ear-piercing scream leaves his lungs as I saw off his pointer finger like I’m prepping for Sunday fucking dinner. The blood spits out, and I smile. “I’ll ask again… What. Were. His. Plans?”

“I-I don’t know. I swear, man, I don’t know,” he cries. Each shoulder shudders, and he pales. Tears mix with his nasty snot, covering his face. He’s not that loyal. If he knew, he would have told me. I wipe my knife off on his shirt and stand up, staring down at him. Towering over his body, I aim the barrel right at his head. “W-wait! NO! Venom! Please—”

BAM.

Blood tints the ground around Mouse’s dead body. “So long, asshole.”

Time to get the fuck out of here. I need to grab Angel, and we need to leave Orlando—now. This right here is why I cannot be with her. I’m a killer, my enemies will target her, and I will have enemies. I can’t bear it if something were to happen to her. Their hands touching her… They could rape her, kill her, and I won’t put her at risk. Once we get back to Ohio, we’ll part ways, and I’ll be sure to never see her again.

As I take off on my bike, I don’t look back. I don’t even feel bad. I feel nothing for taking their lives. Nothing at all. How can I feel bad for helping rid the world of that kind of evil? This is why I’m a snake and always will be.

And angels and snakes don’t belong together. They just don’t.

Angel

I kept my promise—five minutes was all it took for me to get ready. I step out of the bathroom and into an empty motel room.

“Damn, I’m an idiot,” I tell myself. I check outside, and just as I thought, his bike is gone. I let out a heavy sigh and grip the balcony railing. I should have known he would leave without me.

Looking around, I shiver from the eerie atmosphere, and the hair on the back of my neck stands up. I check my surroundings, because I have this bad feeling. Like someone’s watching me. I back away slowly before practically sprinting inside. I’m tired of looking over my shoulder every day. Waiting.

I click the door shut, leaning against it. Now, what the hell am I supposed to do?

I sit on the end of the bed, contemplating, then make the rash decision to try to find out where Venom went. How? I don’t have any idea, but he shouldn’t be doing this alone. I could help. Be by his side. I slip on my leather and swing open the door. And as I do, I’m met by a well-tailored suit.

Him. Time freezes, the earth stands still, and every single muscle in my body screams out in terror. It’s hard to breathe. Hard to think. My hand grips the door so tightly you can see the whites of my knuckles. I want to move, but I can’t.

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