Page 35 of Run Little Killer
Then he moves to the next leg, a smile on his face as chunks of bloody flesh rain around him like fucked up confetti.
The body would have fit fine in the drum if we’d just forced it down. Not like he'd feel anything break, anyways. But Nix has a thing for torture and dismemberming people, and since I got the immense pleasure of breaking the fucker’s neck and feel the life leave his body, I'll let him have his fun. I need to text Mav anyways, let him know this job just got more complicated.
I slide my gaze to Lennon as I pull my phone from my pocket. I expect to see some sign of disgust on her face, but instead she looks oddly fascinated by the show playing outin front of her. Nix and I have been screwed up from the start, but Lennon's been chaos since we met. Something made her that way, stripped her down to the wire but with us, she’s got this spark. All together, we’re like some fucked up circuit that actually works.
Unlocking the screen of my phone, I find a message from Mav already waiting for me.
Mav
Haven't heard anything from my contact. Is there a problem?
Fuck.
Me
More like a situation.
Mav
Cut the shit, Lambert.
Me
The driver needed an attitude adjustment and now we don't have a driver.
Mav
Hawthorne lose his temper?
Me
Not this time.
Mav
Damn, musta been a real piece of shit to provoke you.
Sit tight. Let me make some calls.
The whirs of the angle grinder fade, followed by the soft thud of the tool being set aside as I slip my phone back into my pocket.
"Heads up, old man," Nix calls out as Lennon shrieks.
My head whips up, hands instinctively shooting out tograb what's hurtling at my face before I even realize what it is.
Or should I say who?
The eyes are cloudy and fixed, staring straight at me, blood dripping from the torn neck. Spliced tendons dangle like half eaten pull-apart Twizzlers.
I fist the severed head by the hair, holding it up as I stalk towards him. "Real fucking funny, ya little shit."
"She thought it was," he remarks, tipping his head towards Lennon.
Her face is split in a shit eating grin that she's trying and failing to hide behind her coffee cup.
I stalk over to the drum and toss the head in with a thump, trace bits of oil splashing out on the already discoloring flesh.
"Don't encourage his shit behavior," I admonish as I turn and march towards Lennon.
