Page 33 of Damaged
I hear Van take a few steps, continuing further up toward the main part of the house, but he doesn’t go too far. Staring at the man who has been my obsession for over five years, but now I'm just excited for a new, fresh start with someone who really does get me.
“I finally realize, you and Vicky do deserve each other. So you can both burn in hell," I finish, as I toss the lighter directly in front of him, making flames erupt across the floor and the kerosene does the trick, immediately catching his clothes and him on fire, covering his entire body in flames.
Thank God we taped his mouth shut prior to all of this, because the muffled screams are annoying as fuck.
I stand there for a moment, watching him roll around on the ground screaming and begging for me to stop this. The heat coming from where he and Vicky are burning is stifling but the yellow and orange flames are mesmerizing to watch. The smell of smoke and burnt flesh hits me, making me cover my nose and mouth.
I’ve heard people talk about the smell of a burning body, but I never expected it to smell like that. It reminds me of cookingdeer meat outside over the bonfire when I was young and my parents were so drunk they forgot to take the meat from over the fire. That is a stink you cannot get out of your clothes.
Van grabs the back of my shirt, forcibly pulling me up the stairs, as the flames begin licking the banister and spreading quickly. The way he manhandles me makes me break out into a fit of laughter.
Smoke starts billowing up from the roof of the basement out of the door, heading into the main area of the house. Once we're both out of the lower level, and Ethan's screams have dissipated, we push the door closed in an attempt to keep it contained just a bit longer.
Turning toward the kitchen area, I see Jackson sitting on top of the counter eating a bowl of cereal. “That sounded intense," he says, shoving another spoonful into his mouth, chewing loudly. He swallows that bite and drops the spoon into the bowl before speaking again. “Feel better, Toots?"
I look back at Van who casually leans against the kitchen doorframe, crossing his arms and legs, staring back at me. I give him a little smile then look back at Jackson once more, nodding. “Three down…several more to go.”
Jackson sits the bowl on the counter and jumps down, brushing his hands down the front of his pants. Looking him over, I'm just now realizing those weren’t the clothes he was originally wearing.
Smoke is starting to fill the air more now and bringing with it that rancid smell of burning flesh. “We’ll get them all. Don't worry. Let's get out of here before this entire house goes up in flames.”
“Wait…" I say pointing at his new outfit. “Where did you get those?"
He looks down at himself and grins. “I figured the douchebag downstairs wouldn't need them,” he says with a laugh. Bendingover, he lifts a black gym bag that I didn't even see next to his feet and holds it out to me. "I grabbed some clothes for you so you don't have to walk around with all of that blood on you."
Pinching the shirt I am currently wearing, I look down and see just how much of a mess I did make. “Thanks, Jackson,” I say, ripping the bloody shirt over my head. After changing into another T-shirt, this one not as big, and a pair of joggers that also fit me much better, I close up the duffle bag.
Van stands up straight, taking a few steps until he’s directly in front of me. Cupping my cheeks softly and looking directly into my eyes, he raises a curious brow. “We’re going to talk about that little ‘several more’ comment once we're away from here. But he's right…” he says, leaning down kissing my forehead, letting his lips linger for a moment. “One of the neighbors might call this in. We don’t want to be here when they do. Let's go.” Taking my hand in his, we quietly exit through the back door, heading to the main street where we parked just a few hours prior.
What a strange night.
Plans and agendas change so quickly and then something upends your entire trajectory in the snap of a finger.
Looking over my shoulder, back at Vicky’s house, I can see smoke starting to seep out of the little window we broke on the side of the house. The front windows are illuminating from the fire that is taking over the entire first floor.
Thank god it's close to four in the morning. The house is a little older, so it will be consumed quickly, but no one can call it in right away, because everyone is sleeping right now.
“What are we doing?" Jackson turns, as we near the Mustang we stole.
“Can you drive?” Van asks him, making Jackson nod. "Good. You drive that," he says pointing at the red car. “And Kata isgoing to ride with me. Follow me out of here and once we are a good distance away, I have a plan.”
Jackson raises a questioning brow as he looks at me first to make sure I'm okay with this. I give him a smile and a little nod. I mean, this isn’t the craziest thing I’ve done.
Jackson agrees and takes the duffle bag from me with the clothes he packed for both of us. I love that he's always thinking a few steps ahead. I didn't even realize how much blood I had all over me. If we were to stop anywhere, that would definitely draw attention to us.
Following Van over to a gorgeous matte black Audi R8, my mouth drops open when he opens the passenger door for me. I stop and stare between him and the car dumbfounded. “Is this…yours?” I ask him with wide eyes.
“Get in, Sweetness,” he says, holding his hand out like a proper gentleman, which we know he’s anything but that.
Once we’re in the car and all buckled in, he's pulling away from the curb. I turn in my seat to make sure Jackson follows right behind us, and I release a breath when I see the bright headlights from the Mustang following close behind. Jackson is my only friend, and a good one at that. I don't want to lose him.
“Explain to me what you meant back at the house when you said ‘three down and several to go’?” I ask Kata, lifting my cup of coffee to my lips and taking a sip. We’re sitting at a quiet little hole in the wall café eating breakfast. It’s so early in the morning, there’s only a few patrons here, and they look like regulars just minding their own business.
We’re sitting in the far booth settled in the corner, far enough away from prying ears. Everything that happened this eveningisn’t something we need people overhearing. Plus, I want to find out more about her.
Where she comes from.
What she wants to do now.
