Page 39 of Redd

This was closed when I left. . .

The main door was open wide, allowing the cold, winter air to slip seamlessly through my home. Loose papers rattled like flapping wings, getting blown across the floor as a gust of wind pushed them around.

Cautiously, I opened the storm door, doing my best to not make a sound. Reaching into the back of my pants, I gripped the handle of the gun, fluttering my finger over the trigger.

Shit. . . Did they find us?

Was that possible?

No, no it can't be. No one followed us, I'm sure of it.

My chest constricted, tightening with an uneasiness that shook me to the core. I thought of the girl I left alone, of how I had walked out this morning, leaving her defenseless and open to whoever might come looking for her.

I knew deep down that taking her from that place wouldn't end there. I knew it, and I still did it anyway.

Fuck! What the hell was I thinking?

Why did I just leave her here alone?

Stepping inside, I glanced around, expecting to see an unknown man in a suit, casually reclined on my couch, with the young girl tucked under his arm, petting her hair.

I found nothing close to that.

My home was in complete disarray. Cupboards in the kitchen were open wide, the counters were littered with fallen food and dinnerware. The living room looked like it was hit by the same tornado. Couch cushions were on the floor, the few pictures I had set up were knocked over and smashed. The drawers on the entertainment center were thrown open, spilling their insides like guts onto the carpet.

A tremor scaled down over my spine, the nervous energy curling around my ankles and holding me to the floor. My feet felt like dead weight as I wobbled in place, afraid that my ego had gotten the better of me, and I had fucked up royally.

Fuck, what hell did I do?

Cupping my jaw, I opened and closed my mouth, grunting with frustration. It was stupid for me to just leave and not take any precautions. I was certain no one had followed us. Even with the carnage I left in that house, I thought my identity would remain a mystery, they didn't know who I was.

I was wrong.

They found her. They found her and took her back.

The mess in front of me was a clear sign that she hadn't gone down without a fight. That small frail woman had used whatever energy she had left to try and get away.

Fuck! I shouldn't have left her here all alone like that.

Standing in a daze, my fists clenched by my side as a fiery heat surged up my neck, making me see red. I wanted to find that motherfucker and kill him myself. I wanted to charge into his home, guns blazing, ready to look him in the eye as I put a bullet in his head.

Just imagining what he might do to that girl because of what happened, it turned me sour. I didn't feel relief that he had taken her back, or that she wouldn't be my problem anymore.

All I felt was shame and hatred at myself for not thinking more clearly and protecting her like I should have.

“Damn it! Fuck!” Turning around, I wiped the sweat off my forehead, stewing about what my next step should be.

What the hell do I do? Should I go back and find her?

I shouldn't have even gone there the first time, I was lucky I made it out alive. Doing it a second time. . . That was asking to die.

I killed to protect once, and for some reason, I did it again for the woman I found. I didn't think about it, I didn't step back and wipe my hands clean, turning my back on her. I had killed for her.

Why?

It was the right thing to do.

But it was something else that drove me to take her. Like if I didn't, I'd never be able to get her out of my head. She'd sit there day after day and taunt me in my dreams.

---