Page 14 of Alik

I look at Olive’s peaceful face, lost in a world that knows no pain, and I can’t help it when my mind wanders, wondering what she’s dreaming about. What she would’ve done if she’d been awake to see this message. Would she have gone? Broken her sobriety for a night with this mystery man? Or maybe she was lying about her sobriety altogether… But I don’t think so.

Who cares?

Why am I stalling?

Tossing the phone on the table, I look down at my pocket and pull out the heroin and needle, setting both on the table before going to the kitchen to get a spoon.

I’m hit with the smell again, but I ignore the pan on the stove, ignore the taste of Olive on my tongue, her scent in my nostrils bringing up warmth I haven’t felt in… I don’t remember.

When I’m back, I dump the contents of the baggy into the spoon and pull out my lighter, but I don’t ignite it. Something is stopping me. There’s something I’m missing, flooding me with the sensation that I’m about to make a mistake. My skin crawls. My mind resists.

What is wrong?

I lower the spoon and look at the girl. Her cinnamon hair isn’t hiding her face anymore. She’s on display for me, and maybe that’s the problem. Maybe I don’t want to see her.

I shouldn’t have kissed her. Shouldn’t have come here under false pretenses when I could have simply broken in and forced the heroin into her veins with my hand over her mouth to muffle her screams.

Instead, I’m questioning everything.

Something is telling me not to kill her. To think this through. It’s a pull in my chest, a turn of my stomach that must be an instinct.

My mind churns while I stare at her, trying to discern what is wrong.

Does she truly need to die?

No, she doesn’t. It would work. It would distract her father and shift his attention to the Irish, who are prideful enough to put their mark on everything in their business, including their heroin. It would work perfectly, but it isn’t theonlything that would work. Just her losing her sobriety alone would cause an upset within his family, but I could take it a step further and be sure he knows what he has to lose.

There are other ways to use the girl.

Giving her one last look over, I pour the heroin back into the plastic sleeve before putting everything in my pockets, growing more confident in myself by the second.

This is the right call.

I’ll dump her at one of the Irish’s drug houses then send the police. The special agent’s junkie daughter will be found doped up at the scene of a crime… Imagine the headlines.

Daddy will still want his revenge due to the sheer embarrassment she’s about to cause him, and she’ll still be in our back pocket for later if we decide to use her again. You don’t use up all of your resources if some will do.

This is better. This is why my mind was so resistant.

I stride to her closet to pick the sluttiest dress I can find, which isn’t slutty at all, so not great for my cause, but it’ll do. It’s a long-sleeve, black, velvet number that stretches to her mid-thigh when I pull it down over her jeans.

I don’t lift the dress when I undo the buttons on her jeans. Hours ago, I had full faith in my self-control. Now I grind myteeth while dragging her pants off her slender legs, my balls aching as my fingertips brush her thighs.

Leaving her barefoot and vulnerable, I pick her up and carry her to my car, nodding politely at a man as I pass him outside. You wouldn’t believe the shit people see me do without so much as a second glance, as long as I’m calm. He nods back.

A half hour later, I leave Olive Solace in a house flooded with slimy Irish associates, a needle sticking from her arm. I never pressed the syringe in, so heroin didn’t technically go into her system, but it’ll be enough to achieve what we need. I tried. I really did. The bitch knocked me off my game hard because, for some reason, I couldn’t find a vein.

But it doesn’t matter. This is better.

This is enough.

Standing in the alley behind the house, my car waiting for me down the street, I take my gun from my waistband and fire at the windows, sending glass raining all over the lawn. By the time heads appear and bullets fly into the alley, I’m gone.

The cops should be here any minute.

4

OLIVE

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