Page 10 of Sink With Me

“You on the Sharks team?” One man says, immediately catching my attention. I walk slower and duck my head so I can hear every word being spoken as they pass.

“Hell yeah, a few days stuck on a boat with the Captain. I hear she likes recruits.” They erupt into a chorus of laughter.

“Who knows, maybe I’ll even kill the bastard we’re going after, end the war, become her hero.”

The corner of my mouth threatens to turn up, so she’s after me? I’m flattered.

“A lifetime supply of pussy and an honorable medal is so close I can almost taste it.”

And just as quickly as my newfound happiness comes, it fades into the lake of anger that pools inside of me. This one vile droplet just broke the dam. They’re talking about the woman whose mark I bear and whose picture burns a hole in my pocket. If anyone is fucking with her emotionally, mentally, or even physically, it’ll be me.

They split off and I grab the blabbering dumb ass by the back of his shirt and pull him into an alleyway.

“What… what the, oh god damn—"

Before I can even process my moves or the incoherent words he’s speaking, my fist is connecting with his face.

“What fuckin’ ship?” My hiss is so volatile, flecks of my spit hit his face. He tries to turn away from me, the pitiful sod, grasping at my wrist as I clutch at his shirt, keeping him stabilized.

“I–it’s just a ship, man!”

Using his body weight, I slam him back against the wall, his head bouncing back and forth.

“What fuckin’ ship?!” I demand again, louder. His face contorts and I think he’s about to cry. Surely a soldier should fight back, but it seems like Bays have never seen a day of combat.

“Who are you?!” He yells. I clasp my hand over his mouth in time with his knee to my groin. I scoff. Idiot. I was debating on letting him live. We tumble to the ground, his arms actively trying to guard his face. Everything is red. It’s on bricks in disturbing graffiti. It pours from his nose and mouth and, yet again, it paints my knuckles.

“Is it for Depth?” I’ve gained my ground back, my leg pushing on his chest.

The man simply whines in protest, thrashing his head and trying to get out from under me. My eyes roll involuntarily as I readjust him beneath me with little effort. One hard slap and his focus is back on me.

“When?”

“Fuck–” the man groans in protest, weakly trying to throw a punch. He really is pathetic. I’m being handed my shark on a silver platter if this is the type of scroungy little bastard she’s coming with. I wrap my hand around his throat, depriving him of just enough air that his eyes bulge and his face flushes.

“T-t…” I loosen my grip so I can hear him properly. “Two days.” He stutters out, breathless and gasping.

Two days, with good conditions she’ll be in my hands in nine days, maybe eight, depending on how eager the commander is.

Now, I’m a very patient man, but this is a problem. It’s not the fact that I have confirmed that she is, indeed, coming for me. Hell, that excites me more than anything. It’s the fact I simply can’t stop my fist from colliding with this man's head. I want her to know I was here. I want her to know what monster will be waiting for her arrival.

Bloodied, broken and almost unrecognizable. I have no remorse when I take a life and his is now gone, completely. I rub my forearm against my head, wiping away the sweat that breaks through my brow. What was my reason for killing him? He’s an enemy. I was… compromised. At least that’s what I will tell the team, and that’s what I will continue to tell myself until I convince the devil lurking around my head that it wasn’t because of her.

Flicking my gaze around the dark alley a large teal dumpster sits discarded, the lid cracked and overfilling with filth. Luckily, the pathetic waste of space weighs close to nothing, giving me enough leeway to prop him against the container.

Now she gets to clean up my mess.

My brows pull inward at the screeching of a vehicle on the road. I pity this town. I guess it’s as pleasing socially as it is physically. I need to get the hell out of here. Curses ring out and horns honk as I pull my hood up over my head before shoving my blood-stained hands into my pockets, preparing to duck and blend in. But a messy brown ponytail catches my attention, barging through Bay doors with a scowl narrowing her eyes and box clutched tightly in her hands. It’s her. I step out of the narrow dark space.

Note to self: Holidays, not relaxing. But it won’t hurt to stay just for a little longer.

Date: 4-24-2024

Time: 1612

Seriously? This is where she’s staying? I press the bottle of bourbon to my lips with semi-clean hands, grimacing from the way my tongue wants to push the liquid back out. This stuff tastes like piss compared to the whisky back home. I grin. The only good thing about this god-forsaken city is that it’s her home and now she knows what it’s like to have her blood spilled within her territory.

Shifting my hips on the bench just outside the convenience store, I try to blend into the scenery. Across the street is a worn-down apartment in the middle of disorder. It stares me in the face like it’s tempted to jump out and bite me. The long paneling of the side droops down like jagged teeth, and shutters on various windows are faded from excessive light exposure, making the face of the building look lifeless. After the whole fair fiasco, I couldn’t bring myself to leave just yet, so I followed from a distance until I saw Sharkie, and that woman disappear into the building. It was easy work making myself… acquainted with the area. I needed something that would keep me from busting into the grimy building and dragging her back out. I chose booze. Unfortunately, it isn't doing a very good job.

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