Page 13 of Rugger: The Huntress

I flipped open the newest mobile phone and pressed the number one. Ringing began on the other end as my shoes tapped the pavement.

Click.

Clack.

Click.

Clack.

“Speak.”

“Project 183. The list– It needs alterations.”

“Patience, baby.”

I pulled the phone away from my ear, frustrated with the voice of reasoning on the other end. His answer wasn’t one I wanted to hear or accept. I closed the phone as a sigh rushed out of my mouth. Hermen Jack was a splinter in my index finger and I wanted him out, immediately. The pain was agonizing and I needed that particular finger to wrap around the trigger.

Until I freed the world of his presence, I wouldn’t rest well. Eat well. Drink well. Think well. Function to the best of my ability.

The weight of it all pushed me closer to my car. Inside, I lost myself in my head. I didn’t realize I’d made it to the secluded loft on top of the storefront that was illegally acquired by my family.Inside the spacious plot, I busied my hands with the cupboard. I removed the single glass and sat it on top of the counter.

Beneath the sink was a lone bottle of aged malt whiskey that Richie handcrafted and fermented over a period of time. There were bottles just like it all over Clarke, in the crevices of the city where we frequented. The hideaways. The shadows. The places that kept our operation afloat without drawing any unwanted attention to us. The places that hid us in plain sight.

The glasses clinked as I poured a double shot into the smallest of the two in my hands. I capped the whiskey and placed it back underneath the sink. Against my lips, I rested the cool rim and closed my eyes. Slowly, I allowed the liquid to ease into my mouth, setting my tastebuds ablaze.

The burn was celestial. Richie’s smile caused my chest to tighten. I squeezed my eyelids to the point of pain. It didn’t matter how much time passed, life seemed to remain at a standstill. Though we were making strides, without him, life didn’t feel progressive.

Nothing will ever be the same.

My nostrils flared as the vision faded to black. The intangible kept me up at night. I craved Richie’s presence more than my next kill. And, since the first day I’d claimed a life, nothing had ever satisfied my appetite for blood like taking another.

Except him.

He’d left us much sooner than I’d anticipated. Much sooner than I was prepared for. And, though my mother was still alive and well, she was the mildest presence in our lives. We belonged to Richie. From the moment we were off our mother’s breasts, Richie became our source of life.

Rome and Roaman were the only girls who stuck to our mother like Velcro. Because of it, they’d inherited her meekness. They were soft by nature. They were prey. Range, Rather, Roulette, Royce, and I were predatorsby nature.

Darkness surrounded me when I opened my eyes. Street lights peered through the blinds and into the empty space. I gripped the back of the wooden chair and dragged it from the kitchen into the room carved for a sofa and coffee table. When my bottom landed, so did what was left of my heart.

I tipped the glass up a second time, clearing its contents. Life was unfair. So was death. However, they were the only two things promised to us as humans. Everything else was circumstantial.

“Three hundred and sixty,” I whispered in sheer defeat.

Seventy two is twenty percent of three hundred and sixty.

I rubbed a finger across the top row of my teeth as thoughts ran rampant in my head. Though the ground was dry and the clouds weren’t low, every day was a rainy one for me. The heaviness in my heart and the pain in my chest wouldn’t leave me alone.

My karma.

Lives were so easily ended by my hands. To think cancer had taken my father’s was repulsive. I’d rather him had succumbed to his injuries after a gunshot to the head or the chest. I’d rather him not have suffered.

I’d rather have someone to be upset with. Someone to go after. Someone to hunt. But, there was nothing. His life had run its course and there wasn’t a fucking thing I could do about it.

Snap. Snap.

I shook my head from one side to the other. There was little time to wade in my sorrows. A night on the town sounded better. The double shot I’d consumed was a decent start.

Up on my feet, I tossed the glass toward the exposed brick. Before the pieces all came crashing down, I was pulling the door’s handle. I took the steps one after the other until I reached the bottom.

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