Twenty-eight days I’ve been following his every move. Twenty-seven nights I’ve spent away from my bed, without my girl. I miss her. All of her. I miss her attitude when she’s aggravated at me, and recently, that’s been a lot over my absence.
I miss her bitchiness of what I’m assuming is just part of being a girl. I miss the way she wants to fucking touch me all the time. I must admit, it’s a strange feeling to be here, in the sense of wanting a woman this way, of wanting to be touched. I never thought I’d experience this, but now that I’m here, I’ll kill before I’ll let it go. God knows I check her location every few hours, and it’s not because I don’t trust her, it’s because I don’t trust anyone else.
I hold my binoculars to my eyes, watching as his car pulls up to the back entrance of the strip club. I glance at my watch. Right on time, just as I expected.
I’ve stayed out of sight, watching him from a distance, mapping out his behavior, memorizing his schedule, and plotting his death. I’ve done my homework. I’ve studied the motherfucker real hard. I’ve put in the time. I’ve been patient, but my patience is wearing thin.
I had planned for this to be a quick job. I figured out that was a little presumptuous 14 days in. He’s careful, he’s precise, and he knows how to cover his ass, never going anywhere without two human versions of the hulk. It would be so easy to take him out right here while I have him in my sights. If only the binoculars were my scope. I have a sniper rifle for the perfect head shot, but instead, I’ll wait a little more, because I want him to know the bastard that took him out—the bastard he created.
A sadistic laugh fills the cab of the truck. Fucking bodyguards. I guess he’s not as tough with a little age on him.
A rush of anger floods my soul, feeding it as I watch him enter, dressed out in a dark suit. Just as the door opens, I get a glimpse of that cross on his neck, and every time I do the memories take over. They come regular and stronger now, as if all they needed was the right key to unlock them. It looks exactly the same, only faded compared to all those years ago when I first saw it.
He disappears inside, distantly sandwiched between the two goons. My sanity is on the verge of breaking if I don’t get back to her soon, and that’s something I’ve meticulously controlled my entire life.
My phone starts to vibrate on the center console of the rental. I glance at it, deciding if I want to let it go to voicemail and call her back later. I’m so close. I have a plan. Tonight is the night. Then I can go home. Before I have a chance to decide the phone is already at my ear. “Delta, what is it?”
“I know I’m not supposed to call you first . . .” Her voice cracks, the sniffles into the phone putting me on high alert. She sounds like she’s crying. Why the fuck is she crying?
“What’s wrong? Did someone hurt you?”
“I know the sex of the baby.”
I blink over and over, zoned out, trying to understand what she’s saying. “What do you mean?”
She sighs and takes a deep breath. “Kross, I told you about the appointment two weeks ago. You were supposed to come home in time for it.”
Christ. I stare straight ahead, every thought in my head racing. A feeling I don’t recognize slams into the forefront of my mind. “Why didn’t you reschedule and wait for me? You know I’m on a job. An important one.”
“I could have had it done as early as sixteen weeks. I have waited. You never called. I assumed you didn’t care.”
“Why didn’t you fucking remind me?”
“Because you’re off chasing the ghost of Kross’s past,” she cries into the phone. “Why can’t you let it go? I came home just like you wanted. I’ve waited a month since you left. I’ve slept alone in our bed. I feel like an intruder in your house without you here. I miss you.”
“It’s your damn house too, Delta. I’ll be home as soon as this is done.”
“Is this how it’s going to be? You putting things that no longer matter before me? It’s fucking ironic that the woman I’ve despised for years has contacted me daily attempting to build a relationship while the man that fathered my child is acting like I’m an afterthought. I have to go somewhere you aren’t expecting me to be for you to call me. Well, I’m getting tired of it. I gave you the option to be single and you chose for us to be together. I’m lonely and you don’t even care. I’ve basically spent my entire life being alone. I can’t take it anymore. I just wanted to let you know I’m turning my phone off for a while. I stare at it constantly, waiting for you to call or text. It’s pathetic and old at this point. I need a break. You want to talk to me then you can come home. Oh, and it’s a fucking girl.”
She disconnects the call, leaving me in some kind of warped space-time continuum. Thoughts begin piecing together like a puzzle. A girl? A female. Lack of dick and balls. Pussy present. I’m going to have a . . . daughter? That was hardly what I expected.
The vision of him fucking that fifteen-year-old comes back. I remember that Delta was fucking a grown man as a teenager. That same grown man. “Motherfucker.” I slam my fist into the steering wheel. “As if I’m not enough of a goddamned psycho.”
A boy I think I could handle. But a girl . . . Too many people are likely to die, and killing teenage kids is not my thing.
My head falls against the headrest. The screen of my phone lights up, signaling a video message has been received. I open the message from Delta, tapping the play button. It looks just like that first ultrasound photo I found under the mattress, only different. My eyes hone in on the creature in the center that looks oddly like a skeleton. Hands, arms, and knees . . . It’s moving. The video isn’t long, only about ten to fifteen seconds. A photo comes in right after it ends. I’m not even sure what I’m looking at with it being black and gray scale, but the text out beside it is idiot-proof. “I’m a girl!”
I call her. It rings several times before going to her voicemail. I hang up and call again. Three more times I call before she finally answers. “You don’t give up, do you?”
“It’s a girl. We have a daughter?”
Her breathing evens out. “Yeah, Kross, we have a daughter.”
I fist my hair, trying to work through the questions in my head, trying to find the words. “Is she okay? Does she have the right number of toes and shit?”
One laugh slips through the phone, but nothing else follows. “Yeah, baby, she’s perfect.”
“Anyone else know?”
“No. Despite your absence, I wanted you to be the first.”
“Not even Lux?”
“Lux is my best friend, but that doesn’t mean she’s entitled to this kind of information before you. This is ours.”
“Does she have a name?”
“No. Why would I name her without you?”
“Why would you name her with me? I remember promising you I’d be there now. I’m an asshole. I wouldn’t have been mad.”
Her exhale sounds through the phone. “Kross, I’m not clueless. I knew what I was getting into with you. I was hurt you didn’t come, although not completely surprised, but that doesn’t mean I want to do those things without you. She’s our daughter. We name her together.”
“She needs a name.”
“She does. I can wait ‘til you come home. We have time.”
“No. She needs a name. We aren’t calling her a thing.”
“You want to name her over the phone?”
“I got time to kill.”
“I’d rather you come home.”
I rub my jaw. “I’ll be home tomorrow.”
“Don’t feed me false hope.”
“You have my word.”
“I like the name Emery. It means powerful, ruler of work, brave. I figure she needs a strong name with parents like us.”
I stare at that building, knowing this is going to be over soon, one way or another. I failed at protecting her, the woman that gave birth to me. She protected me. A scared shitless little boy, I stood there; a failure that won’t happen twice.
Murder is a skill I’m good at. Hunting is a game I like. To kill is a high that doesn’t exist in any drug. It gives you a sense of power that can’t be earned any other way. A human with no conscience is a lethal being. It edges on the line of immortality.
Delta thinks I care. I choose not to correct her. She has no idea the demons that drive me. The only thing I’ve ever cared about is her. Arms dealing and tattooing are things I found to keep me at peace, to satiate the fucked-up desires I carry inside. It gives me a sense of normalcy. They made me this way. They gave me my first tastes of death—him and that cunt that fostered me the longest. I never say her name, because a cunt is what she was.
Delta and Emery are the two I have to protect. They’ll be safe once he’s gone. “I like Emery.”
“Just like that? No catch? No alternatives? I was hardly expecting this to be simple.”
“It fits.”
“What about a middle name?”
“What’s yours again?”
“Lynn.”
“Go with that.”
“But don’t you want to pick?”
“I just did.”
“But it’s after me.”
“You’re her mother. Good ones are important. We should know.”
“So are fathers . . .”
“She’ll have it different than us.”
“Promise?”
“Yes.”
“If she’s going to have something after me, what can she have after you?”
“My last name. Even though it’s not one of value or worth being passed down, it’s the one she gave me. That has to mean something.”
“Kross,” she whispers, a sudden change in tone that resembles the one she had when she first called. “I never even considered giving her my last name. I would never take that from you.”
“So it’s settled then?”
“If you’re sure it’s what you want.”
“I’m sure that’s what it’s supposed to be. That’s the part that matters.”
It gets quiet for a moment. I glance at my watch. Almost time to do this. “You’re going to have to buy more cologne,” she says randomly.
“Why?”
“I used it all on your side of the bed. It’s cold now. Hard to sleep. It helps, but it’s lonely without you in bed. I hate it. Kross, I hate being without you. I just want you to know that no man has owned me before you. I’ve somehow lost myself, but also found me too. I need you to keep your promise this time. I need you to come home tomorrow.”
“Stop worrying. It’s not good for your body in that state.” She sniffles again. “Are you working at the shop tonight?”
“No. I took off for the appointment. I’m at home in bed watching TV.”
I don’t like this unsure, paranoid version of her. I need her happy, stress free, and by the sounds of it, Remington is doing a shit job. “Do me a favor.”
“What?”
“You still got the credit cards?”
“Yeah. I haven’t used them.”
“Why? I’ve been gone a long time. Have you used the cash?”
“No, I put it up. And because it makes me uncomfortable. They’re yours, all of it—the money, the house . . .”
“Fuck, Delta. I gave those things to you for you to use. That makes them yours.”
“That’s just the way I am. I’ve always paid my own way. I’m not Lux. It’s not like I’m your wife. I’m your girlfriend.”
Wife? One of those things that make someone completely yours. I may see the perks now. “Is that something you’d want to be?”
“What?”
A second call starts coming through—Johnny. “Never mind, look, I need you to do something for me. Take the motherfucking credit cards or the cash—I don’t give a shit which—and stock the house with food. Then I want you to go do girl shit all damn day. Hair, nails, shopping for you or baby stuff, get a massage—what makes no difference to me. I don’t need you thinking about the stuff I’m doing. I’ll be home by midnight. If it makes you uncomfortable to spend my money, then for fuck’s sake, take Lux for physical support. I guarantee she won’t be as modest with Kaston’s.”
“I don’t . . . I can’t. I’d want to pay you back. It’d hang over my head.”
“You’re going to pay me back in pussy when I get home. An entire month’s worth. After a sex life with you and this kind of break, my nuts feel like they’re going to explode. Now shut the fuck up about it and do it. It’s not optional at this point. I need to focus on the job so I can keep my promise. I can’t miss my shot.”
“Sometimes I want to kick you in the balls when you’re a demanding asshole. If they weren’t so useful to me I probably would.”
It starts beeping in my ear again; Johnny trying to call through since I missed the first one. “I gotta go. I’ll be busy from now until the time I get home. I need you to follow orders.”
I switch over the call. “You got it?”
“Yeah, man. Waiting on you.”
“Meet me at the coordinates I sent in an hour. He should be here ‘til close. I’ve seen extra girls filtering through. My guess is he’s got a full house tonight. Even better for us.”
“See you there.”
I toss the phone down, adrenaline already building and spreading through my veins. It’s time to get everything ready. This day has been coming for a long-ass time.
