Page 8 of Praying Mantis

My phone rings and I instantly groan as I walk away from the gym to head to my apartment.

“Mother,” I say flatly, answering the phone.

“You never call me anymore.” I roll my eyes. Of course, I never call her because I have nothing to say to her.

“Sorry Mother, you know how busy my schedule is. You are my handler and all. Why am I going to Texas so close to Denver? I told you I need for them to be stretched out further because of the FBI being there so quickly.”

“I’m the one who runs things, and you’ll do as I say.”For now.I think to myself. I can’t wait to kill her and live a life for myself. I have more money than I can spend in a lifetime.

“Yes, Mother.” I roll my eyes. “I was at the gym when you emailed me, so I couldn’t really check it, but I’m almost home, so I’ll respond in less than an hour. I need to shower first.”

“Fine, whatever.” She hangs up on me. Why the fuck does she always ruin my good mood? Sean pops into my head. I can’t get the thought that I know him from somewhere other than the market, but I can’t place it. He even made the comment as well. Shaking off the feeling as I ride the elevator up to my apartment, I feel exhaustion setting into my bones. I don’t even know if I want to take the job. I’ve never gone against my mother, but sometimes I need a break. Killing takes a toll on someone’s soul, even though mine is already black. It still chips away piece by piece. Once inside the apartment, I decide to take a quick shower because if my mother is calling me, then it must be a close hit or an urgent one.

After my shower, I towel off my body and wrap my brown hair in it so it doesn’t drip down my dry body. I slide on my red oversized T-shirt which hangs just above my knees before pulling on my black lace boy shorts. Walking out of the bathroom into my bedroom, I make a beeline for my safe which is in my walk-in closet to grab my laptop. I suck in my bottom lip holding my laptop as I debate going to the living room but decide to flop onto my bed instead. I turn the television on and find the Hallmark channel. I may be a soulless bitch, but those cheesy love stories get me every time in the feels.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Student for Tutoring

Good afternoon,

We wanted to reach out to you, since you have provided impeccable tutoring services in the past. We have another student whose parents are looking for your services. He is failing in history and needs your services to ensure a productive and successful future. Please let me know if you would be available.

Thank you

Educators United

I download and print the documents which mother attached in the email. I reply confirming this will work with my schedule. I shut down my laptop and begin looking over the files.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” I concentrate on my breathing. I hate these kinds of people. He’s nothing but a predator who preys on young kids. This job I’d probably do for free, but I’d never tell Mother. He lives in Vermont, which isn’t too far. I check the address on my Google Maps and it’s about a five-hour drive round trip. I could be there and back tonight. I go through my closet to get my stuff ready. “Sorry Darren, but tonight isn’t your night.” I smirk. According to his schedule, he frequents a dive bar called Mel’s until closing before going home to spend time with his teenage twins. He picks his son or daughter, depending on what happens at the bar. I need to be smart about this because I don’t think a hotel room will work for this guy. What options do I have? I grab a pen and notebook.

Find out what vehicle is his and set up before going into the bar.

Buy a vehicle and leave it there.

Use his car and then torch it afterward.

I’m thinking we’re going to do a combination of one and three because this man needs to suffer. If I didn’t need his head for confirmation, I’d leave him to burn alive. Now that there is a plan in place it’s time to really get ready. There’s a spring in my step now because I love killing pedophiles because they deserve the worst kind of hurt. Double checking I have all of my tools for tonight, I put on a pretty purple tank top which is low enough to show off the dip between my breasts, and a matching push-up bra which makes the swell of them push up even more than they normally do on a good day. I find my favorite pair of skinny jeans to slide up over the g-string that of course matches my bra. I may be a plus-size woman by beauty standards but I love my curves. I finish my look with a pair of black heeled boots. I make my way down to my Honda Accord. It’s a boring car, but it’s one many people own so I blend in. I set the GPS for Mel’s in Vermont and head out of town for some mayhem and fuckery.

Sean

Driving to my parent’s house about thirty minutes from the city always sets my nerves in a panic. It’s the same old song and dance from my father. Leave the job you love for the family business that you want nothing to do with. My mother, god love her, is so submissive to my dad. No matter how many secretaries he went through or the bruises she tried to cover with makeup. I tell myself it’s for my mother and as much as my father annoys me; I love my mother. I remember my grandmother saying when I was a child, Is beannacht é grá na Máthair, a mother’s love is a blessing.

Pulling up to my parent’s house I think about how obnoxiously large it is. I press the call button on the gate call box, and I’m greeted by my father’s long-time head of security, John.

“O’Hannon Residence, please state your business.” Always so gruff.

“Hello, John. It’s Sean. I’m here for family dinner.” Nothing but the buzz of the gate opening is what I can hear. Pulling through the gate, I make my way down the long brick driveway.

My father requested the red bricks instead of asphalt because they reminded him of his home in Ireland when he was a boy.

For one moment, I saw a small glimpse of a man with love in their heart, but once he discovered he wasn’t the cold-hearted bastard he was trying to portray to me, it ended. No more talking about why, it was just “because I like the color red” or “bricks, they last longer.” Feelings and emotions are for the weak, and then your enemy can pray for your weakness. After parking my car, I step out of it and make my way to the front door. Before I knock, the door swings open.

“The prodigal black sheep has returned to cause chaos?” John greets me with his thick Irish accent.

“Chaos? Me? Never, I prefer peace over chaos.” His rough and tough exterior breaks as a smirk appears. “I will tell you that the smells from the kitchen have caused chaos in my stomach. From the delicious smells of the colcannon and soda bread cooking, I pray Maeve made enough so I can have some leftovers.” Maeve is the cook for the house and her colcannon is the best food to touch my lips. It is full of mashed potatoes mixed with cabbage with heavy cream. “Did she make bangers or roast to go with it?” My stomach rumbles and I’m as excited as a teen on prom night.

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