Page 65 of The Kat Bunglar

“Okay,” she managed, the word quieter than she intended.

The room felt colder now, the space between them wider than ever before. She could feel the finality of it, his decision hanging in the air like a wall between them.

She wanted to say more. She wanted to tell him something, to reach out and bridge that gap. But Gabriel had already built his wall, and in that moment, Laila realized that the chance to say what she needed to say had already slipped away.

“I’m actually feeling quite tired now,” Gabriel murmured, his voice distant and far away.

Laila abruptly took a step back, guilt flushing her cheeks. “Of course, of course you are! I’ll let you rest. Is there anything else you need? Or anything else I can get you?”

Gabriel shook his head and met her eyes one last time with a sad smile. “I think you’ve done enough,preciosa.”

Laila felt tears prick at the back of her eyes as she bent down softly to kiss his cheek goodbye. “Take care of yourself, Gabriel.” She stood up and walked toward the door but stopped as her hand encircled the doorknob.

Instead of leaving, she turned around and stared at Gabriel instead. His gaze reluctantly made its way back to hers and held.

“Goodbye, Gabriel,” she said softly, hoping—aching—for him to stop her.

He didn’t respond immediately. For a heartbeat, it felt as though he might say something else, something more, but instead, he simply nodded. His face was tired and drawn. His smile bittersweet.

“Goodbye, Laila,” he said, the words hitting her with a finality that left her breathless and utterly alone.

Laila abruptly nodded, turned, and walked out of the room. As the door clicked shut, her vision blurred with unshed tears, her heart splintering with each step.

July 25th

Los Angeles

Kat Kar

Kat stretched luxuriously under the blanket before finally poking her head out. Blearily peering toward Christian’s bedroom door, she noticed it was wide open and that the sunlight had filtered its way through the doorway, illuminating their entire apartment in a hazy orange glow. Kat exhaled. That’s right, it was Sunday. Christian was at her parents’ ministry guiding the youth toward love and light. Laila had gone back to Chicago abruptly after her visit with Gabriel at the hospital. And Joseph was being held without bail. Which meant Kat had the place all to herself.

Kat hopped out of bed and into the shower where she spent a glorious twenty minutes belting out Black Sabbath’s song “Iron Man.”

Has he lost his mind?

Can he see or is he blind?

Can he walk at all?

Or if he moves, will he fall?”

Mimicking the guitar riff, she stepped out of the shower and wiped the fog off the mirror. Smirking at herself, she mouthed, “Do you know what today is?”

To which she answered, “Pay day, biyatch!” With a giggle and a wide finger snap, she left the bathroom and proceeded to get ready in her “incognito outfit”: beige hoodie, sweatpants, oversized Sabyasachi sunglasses, and a largish backpack by ‘The Burlap People.’

Hailing an Uber back to Inglewood, she allowed herself a small, smug smile. This was it. She had been waiting a long time for today.

Walking back into the pawnshop, she felt the familiar sticky tiles under her sneakers as a fan waved overhead. The rows upon rows of display cases winked back at her, welcoming her like a long-lost friend.

“Well, hello there Kitty-Kat,” Hal said in a sing-song voice. “Saw the damage you did at the Port of Long Beach.”

Kat wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Don’t call me that.”

“C’mon. Kat in the Hat. Kat got your tongue. Kat—” Hal smirked, his beer gut jiggling with mirth.

“It’s Khatira,” Khatira cut him off abruptly. Realizing in that moment that she never wanted to be referred to as Kat_Kares again. It made her feel nauseous when she thought back to the social media persona who bowed to the whims of other people’s likes and dislikes. Respectfully, the world and its emojis could kiss her pert, brown ass.

Hal held up his hands in a mock bow. “All hail Khatira. Got it. Oh, and you’re welcome, by the way. It was not inconvenient at all to place an anonymous tip to the police advising them that a Haitian gang member was doing some shady shit on Dock 10.”

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