Page 50 of Blood & Kisses

“Okay,” I bite my lip to steer away the nerves, hoping Blake can’t tell how shaky I am.

“Their street is just up here. The house is white on your right, and the house number is forty-seven. Understand?” he speaks clearly and patiently.

“Yes,” I reply, as the sun is heating up and shining on my face, which already feels burned from the fire. I find my sunglasses in my bag and slot them on my face to shield out the sun's sharp rays and give me something to hide behind.

He turns right, closer to the ocean, and mumbles, “This is the street. Number forty-seven. Look away when we pass by.”

The street has houses on both sides of the road. The houses on the left sit right on the beach, whereas the homes on the opposite side are built higher to give them a view over the rooves of the beachfront houses.

Obsessively, I searched for each letter box until I saw our house, number 47, and as Blake demanded, I turned away just as we drove by. What I noticed, though, is that there are two people: a large man with a snugly fit T-shirt and thick tattooed arms and the other is a brunette woman. They’re sitting on the balcony, drinking and enjoying the sun while gazing at the view.

“That’s him,” I gasp, and my breath hitches, and I start coughing.

“Now is not the time to freak out, Rae,” he says sternly, and I quickly pull myself together.

“That’s him. The Crow. That’s definitely him. The tattoo on his arm – the Crows football team symbol. That’s him.” I compose myself as he drives down a sandy road to the beach and finds a spot under a tree to park.

He switches the engine off, and I wait for Blake to give instructions. Instead, he watches the tide coming in as the sun dances across the water, making it sparkle.

“What now?” I break the silence.

“You’ve got two options for a shot,” he explains flatly. “You can either jump out of the car, place the rifle on the roof, and shoot from there, or try and take the shot out of the window while we’re moving. The problem is that the angle is not great.” He turns to look at me. “What’s your thoughts?”

I swallowed over my raspy throat, but that’s still not right since yesterday's fire. Gabe’s cough medicine isn’t working. “Park the car opposite, and I’ll get out and shoot.”

“You sure?” he asks in a relaxed manner.

“Yeah,” I reply, feigning confidence. “I think I can do it.”

“Alright,” he says, starting up the engine again. “The sooner it’s done, the better. Once you take the shot, you get ass back in the car, cos I’ll be driving faster than a roadrunner running in mating season.”

“Do roadrunners run in mating season?” I ask curiously.

“I have no idea,” he says as he drives off the sandy shore and back onto the road. There are not many people about it, probably because it is a weekday, but the people I have seen are of retirement age, so hopefully, their faculties aren’t so good when they hear the gunshot.

“Run toward their mate, maybe,” I’m trying to take my mind off the nerves causing havoc in my stomach by talking about birds, but as we drive closer to the destination, my mind switches from fear to steely focus on the task at hand.

He pulls up on the side of the road around the corner from where the Crow sits on the balcony and reaches into the back for the bag. He opens it, removes the black ski masks, and then reaches for the rifle bags. He checks that both rifles are loaded and in working order before handing one to me.

“Keep calm and just remember, we’ve got money on your ass to hit,” he grins before pulling the ski mask over his head, prompting me to do the same. “And I don’t want to lose my bet because I’m a sore loser.”

“I’m so pleased that you care more about the bet than my feelings,” I say sarcastically, going along with the joke.

“If you miss, Rae,” he says, starting the wagon again, “I’ll hit. Just remember that. I’ve got your back.”

“Yep,” I reply, exhaling deeply.

“Alright,” the car’s brake is on, but the engine is running. “This is what we’re doing. I’m going to stop the car, and you’re going to get out, place your rifle on the roof, and shoot while I’ll be aiming from here. If you miss, I’ll hit.”

“Okay,” I breathe through my nerves.

“If you’ve changed your mind and lost your nerve, say it now. I won’t blame you if you think you can’t do it,” his voice sterner than before, which is adding to anxiety. I should’ve swallowed a chill pill before leaving Gabe’s house to take the edge off.

“I can do it,” I repeat to assert that I’m confident I can hit my target, even though I’m not sure. I don’t want to let Blake down, but I also don’t want to fuck this jaunt up by missing or hitting the wrong person.

“Okay, I believe in you, Rae,” he says before checking his phone and typing in a message. Then, he puts the car into gear and drives towards our destination.

It takes only a few minutes before we descend on the house, and I can see the Crow sitting on the balcony in a deck chair, chilled out in a singlet and shorts. My stomach turns as I fight away the horrible memories of what he did to me. He was too strong for me and easily pinned me down and raped me hard while the others watched on, waiting for their turn. I vowed at that moment while sweat poured from his face that I would kill him and then dance on his grave.

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