Page 72 of We The Depraved
My fucking aunt.
My fucking cousin…
Her words were like static on my brain as the conversation replayed in my mind.
“Sage, I’m calling to let you know that Krissy is fine.”
“She is,” relief washes over me.
Reese gives a soft sigh. “She’s worried about the devastation she’s caused.”
“I could strangle her,” I say. “Where is she?”
“I’m taking her to Nana’s. She’s been with me the whole time but I told her she needs to talk to you….”
“Reese, I called you three days ago. I told you…”
“I know, I just didn’t think it was a big deal,” Reese went on murmuring.
Red began to grow over my vision and I don’t know what happens the rest of the call.
I don’t remember much of the drive to my grandmother’s house. My vision is singular but I’m very aware that I have a gun on my person.
Reese has had this coming for what feels like forever.
My car grinds to a jerky stop and I hop out my whip with a quickness reserved for dodging snakes. Reese is standing on the porch of my grandmother’s bright pink house.
“Why the fuck has Krystina been at your motherfucking house, bitch?”
Reese’s face tells me she’s scared. The outfit she has on tells me that she’s not dressed for war but I am.
The spring air has me wearing cowboy boots, jeans and a tank top. Wind whips by and rolls over my skin causing a prickly sensation. My cousin comes down off the porch.
“Sage, stop acting so fucking immature!”
I can hear sounds all around me. Maybe the neighbor is outside to check out the commotion. Maybe my grandmother is here but I only have eyes for Reese’s stupid ass.
“Me? You’re the stupid bitch. I’ve been running around Houston looking for my sister. And she’s been at your place the whole fucking time.”
Reese looks at her nails as if I’ve somehow began to bore her. “Sage, sweetheart, you know you’re not fixing to buss a fucking grape. Quit fucking hollering in my face. I said what the fuck I said.”
Before I could stop myself, I pulled out my gun. “Bitch I don’t buss grapes. I buss caps. Your cop husband isn’t here to do shit.”
“Lord!” My grandmother’s voice has hit my ears. “Sage! What are you doing?”
I’m not fixing to back down now.
Me and Reese are having us a little Mexican standoff.
“Get that out my face, bitch!”
My cousin’s words come out in a slow hiss and she flicks her hair. She has perfect features, her eyebrows are freshly done and the manicure she looked at moments before is pressed for the gods.
I know longer care about us being blood.
Turning the gun around, I take the butt of it and swing. Reese is fucking stunned and stumbles back a scream piercing the air.
“I hate you!” she shouts over and over.
