Page 7 of Relentless Oath

My head hurt. Figuring I was dehydrated, I reached for the bottle of water next to my thigh and glanced over at the gun that sat on the seat next to me. It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, to just leave it sitting there, but I wanted to be ready.

I was parked just outside the prison. Waiting. Just waiting. Not much crossed my mind. No doubt. No worries about consequences. I felt surprisingly calm now. Nico would pay.

I took a long drink of water and tried to ignore the voice of my mom in my head. That single voice of sanity in my insane world.

As a social worker, I told so many people that they needed to let go of their rage and anger. That it served only the purpose of hurting them, but I hadn’t even let go. Anger and rage were now part of my soul. But I still heard her voice.

Excuses are for the useless.

“Dammit, Mom,” my voice cracked. “I’m trying my best.”

I chugged the water, tossed the bottle in the back seat, and sighed. I needed to drive away. The rage would subside. I needed to go home.

“What am I doing here?”

I had to let go. I had to let Jason go. Unfortunately, I didn’t know who I was without him.

Feeling resigned, I told myself,I guess I will have to find out. I pulled away from the curb to go home, but that’s when I saw Nico exiting the prison, flanked by a couple of guards.

The guards stepped out of the way and let him out through the giant gate covered with barbed wire. Nico was smiling widely, looking as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

He seemed to be joking with the prison guard, who laughed at something he said.

The bile rose in my throat again. How dare he smile? How dare he act as if he hadn’t taken the life of an innocent man?

Three times he shot my husband and then left him there to die. I had gone to the trial and walked out when he made eye contact with me. A hint of a smile had been on his lips.

Pure evil, that’s what he was. He deserved to die.

I wanted to rip the smile off his face. I wanted to tell him that he didn’t deserve to breathe, let alone smile.

Jason would never smile again. Jason would never laugh again. He was dead. Nico deserved to be dead too. I would see to it.

I picked up the gun as I drove. Could I take the shot from here?

I only had one chance, but I was a pretty good shot. The woman who ran the group home had a boyfriend for a few months who would make us line up empty beer cans in the backyard for him to shoot.

Sometimes he would be so drunk that he wouldn’t wait until we cleared the target before he started firing. I would never forget the cackle of his laugh when we dove for cover.

He was a sicko, but he had taught me and the others how to shoot before he ended up in jail. Again.

I knew I had to get closer to my target. I wasn’t some kind of trained sniper.

Not to mention, I wasn’t a coward. I wanted him to see my face before I took his life.

I took the gun in my hand, well aware that it was probably the last thing I would feel before one of the prison guards shot me. Cold metal. It was okay, though.

I knew this was a one-way trip. With the gun in my hand, I pulled up slowly.

Suddenly, a car swooped in front of me, out of nowhere, cutting me off. I slammed on my brakes, the gun falling out of my hand.

“Fuck!”

I was lucky that it hadn’t gone off. I reached for the gun and looked up. Nico was gone. There was only one place he could have gone. The car in front of me.

I had no other choice. I followed it.

The day was getting late, and I needed gas. I had already followed the car for an hour outside of the city to a part of New York that I wasn’t familiar with. There were giant houses and carefully manicured lawns as far as the eye could see. It was clearly a wealthy community.

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