Page 11 of Tilly
“Argh, you wouldn’t believe it if I told you.” I rub a hand down my face as I sit on my bed and get comfortable. I have a feeling this is going to be a long conversation.
“Try us,” Rosa says.
“I got arrested for prostitution.” I sigh.
They release a collective gasp. “What?” Kinsley chokes out.
I go through the whole story of how I ended up in the alley while I was looking for the bathroom. And then how the cop arrested me.
“So, did you call your mom?” Rosa asks.
“Nope. Someone stormed into the station and hauled me out.”
“Which someone?” Kinsley presses.
“Antonio,” I whisper his name, as if saying it too loud will somehow cause him to appear.
“No freaking way.” Rosa’s eyes widen and her jaw drops in shock.
“Yes way.”
“And then what happened?” Kinsley does a twirling motion with her fingers, her subtle way of telling me to get on with it.
I give them all the not-so-dirty details about what didn’t go down at his place before I finally stop for a breath.
“So you just slept in the guest room? Nothing happened?” Rosa attempts to clarify.
“Nothing. And it’s not going to. When he dropped me home this morning, he told me not to go back to Sin, that girls like me didn’t belong there.”
“What the fuck? No way. Asshole,” Kinsley hisses. “Oh, we’re so going back.”
I shake my head. “No, I can’t handle any more humiliation.”
“I agree with Kinsley. We’re going back. Friday night. And you’re going to pretend that Mr. Doesn’t-Know-A-Good-Thing-If-It-Bit-Him-In-The-Ass doesn’t exist. We’re going to dance and show that prick what he’s missing out on.” Rosa nods. Like it’s decision made.
“I don’t know.” I chew on my thumbnail. I don’t hate their idea, but I don’t love it either.
Chapter Six
I’ve spent all week watching this fucker’s every move. I know his habits, and right now, that predictability is what’s given me the advantage. He should have listened when I told him that whatever bullshit he was trying to charge Tilly with was over the second I dragged her out of that room.
There he is. Sergeant Murphy. I wait for him to enter the coffee shop. I know he’ll be in there for at least twenty minutes. Giving me enough time to do what I gotta do.
As soon as the doors close behind him, I walk up to his car. I shouldn’t be doing this in broad daylight. I know that. But I can’t wait any fucking longer. I need to be done with this fucker.
It takes me less than a minute to get inside his car. I pop the hood, walk around the front, and pull the device from my pocket. It’s small, and on the off chance anyone sees me, they won’t have a fucking clue as to what I’m doing here. This spot is pretty deserted, though. I finish the quick installation, close the lid, and lock his car back up.
There’s always this anticipation that builds before the blast. My body hums with excitement and my fingers tap against my thigh as I sit and wait.
The moment I see the fucker walk out of the coffee shop, my spine straightens and my eyes flick around the street. There are no crowds. There won’t be many casualties, if any. Which is exactly why this had to happen now.
I count down from ten as Murphy closes himself inside his car. Then I push out of my own vehicle and step into his direct line of sight. I want to be the last thing he fucking sees. I smile as I watch his arm drop from the wheel to the ignition.
Three, two, one… bang.
The blast isn’t big, but it’s big enough to engulf the car in flames. I watch his face through the shattered glass, only walking away when the smoke finally obscures my view.
This will send a message. If I say jump, you fucking start jumping. You don’t stop to ask how high. You don’t even pause to breathe. You just fucking jump.
