Page 82 of Love the Way You Lion
That’s not the question I should ask, but it’s the one I most want the answer to. I should ask how she finds me and ingratiates herself into my life every time I think I’ve escaped.
“Deli, Deli, Deli. You still have not learned that I have no interest in torturing humans, nor do I owe you answers to your excruciatingly tiresome questions. The only thing you will ever get from me is failure.” Her sunglasses disappear, and I can see her eyes glittering with glee. Taking slow, measured steps, she crosses the distance between us to give me a smug grin.
What in the actual fuck? Why does she always do this? What the hell did I do to the Universe to deserve her?
My eyes rake over her, assessing her attire and comparing it with mine. I’m dressed in a tiny plaid skirt, fishnets, a half-buttoned oxford, and steel-toed Docs. My ‘rude grrl’ phase might piss myparents off, but it’s made this confrontation much easier. She doesn’t have the upper hand in her clubbing clothes, and I do.
“Clea, I don’t know what you call your campaign of terror, but I’m an adult now. I’m not letting you get away with bully bullshit from high school. You haven’t seen me since graduation, and a lot of things have changed.”
A perfectly sculpted brow arches. “Do tell, little girl. I’m on the edge of my seat.”
I roll my head on my shoulders, drop my bag, and roll my sleeves up to my elbows. She watches as I flick the few buttons undone on my shirt and tie it under my breasts. Feeling my movements freed up, I crack my knuckles loudly and drop into a defensive stance. “I won’t let you ruin what I’ve built here. I’m studying what I love, and I will be on stage someday, listening to the crowd roar. You can’t take that away from me.”
Her eyes narrow, and she watches me, admiration flashing for a second before she lets out another laugh. “Oh, honey. Who has convinced you that the Great White Way will have you? I must meet them and congratulate them on a crueler trick than I ever could have played.”
Bristling, I step forward, fists up as I invade her space. “You won’t get the chance to find out, bitch. I’m ending this here and now. This is our last dance, Heraclea Titania St. James, and when I’m done, you can crawl home to your absent parents and lick your wounds alone.”
Within seconds, we launched at one another and hit the rough gravel on the rooftop with a thud. Clea and I have been physical before, but that was before I took two years of mixed martial arts. Instead of the girly, hair-pulling slap fights we had in the past, this time we were at it for real. The tang of blood hits the air, and Idon’t know which one of us got injured, but it won’t be the last blood drawn tonight.
Rolling to the side, I pop to my feet, bouncing on my soles as I watch her get up. No one in the universe should be that quick on their feet in four-inch heels. The Goddess is not with me this evening, and I don’t know if she’s sided with Clea or angry at the violence. I circle her in criss-crossing steps, eyes sharp and posture tense. Her arm shoots out and I duck, her right hook missing my face by a hair. Cracking my neck again, I dart forward, aiming for her gut. She weaves and I tumble, somersaulting over glass and debris with a snarl.
This is a street brawl, and luckily for us, there’s no one up here to stop it.
“Well, isn’t that cute? The kitty cat has some moves. You have been busy.”
My grin is feral as I advance on her. “That I have, Clea. I am not a fool. As much as I prayed you would stay the hell away, I knew you wouldn’t. You’re like a bad case of crabs—you just keep coming back, no matter how many times I try to get rid of you.”
“Crabs, huh?” She snorts, dodging my left cross. “I knew you were a witch, but I wasn’t aware you were whoring yourself out. How did I miss that?”
Growling, I lunge and knock her to the ground, getting in a few jabs to her ribs before her feet hit my stomach and push me off. Her shoes go flying with me, and she leaps to her feet with the grace of a predator. I crouch as I catch my breath, watching her for a telegraph of her next move. She grins like a Cheshire cat, dancing away backwards.
“Here, kitty, kitty… I’ve got a nice ass-beating for you…”
I ignore her taunts, knowing that her ability to bait me has worked to my detriment in the past. It allowed her to give me a shiner days before my first Homecoming and break my wrist before a solo in the sophomore musical. I reported none of it, preferring to fight my own battles. My parents thought I was clumsy, and I let them.
I have always known that with Heraclea Titania St. James; I was on my own.
“You will never let it go that you got away with poisoning Hecate, will you?”
Her grin widens. “Whatever do you mean? I would never harm an innocent animal.”
“You poisoned her, and she died, you goddamn psycho!” I screech, the pain of that memory making my heart ache. Of all the things Clea took from me, my only lifeline being a fat black cat that I’d rescued was the worst.
Eyes glittering in an unworldly fashion, she takes a step back and waits. “What if I did?”
I don’t know what comes over me, but the red haze of rage covers me so completely that I charge like a rhino. Hitting her square in the gut, I send her flying backwards and, like a horror movie come to life, I watch her fly backwards over the edge of the roof.
Her shriek echoes off the skyscrapers and building as I rush to the edge and look over, watching her flail on her way down. Whirling around, I wait for the sound of a crunch and a car alarm going off, unable to look at the gore that awaits below.
I killed her.
Holy fucking goddamned shit.
I fucking killed her.
Panic takes over, and I run to the shoes, bag, and shirt on the ground. Scooping them up, I clutch them to my chest as I head into the building and down the steps as fast as I can without tumbling down them. After thirty floors, I hit the basement, eyes wide as I look for a way out. I find a locked door that must be for maintenance and knock it down with a spinning roundhouse full of adrenaline.
Looking out into the alley, I scan for witnesses before beating a hasty retreat into the darkness. If I can get away, if I can avoid anyone seeing me, I may not end up in prison for the rest of my natural life. Just as Clea predicted, Broadway was now no longer an option.
