Page 133 of Pretty Broken Wings
Max screams, and I groan, the sound and the pain jarring my brain up to a buzz. It feels like the first time I kidnapped Raven, only better this time. ‘Cause she’s not scared. Only he is.
He’s still on his feet, stumbling away.
Damn. I need better form. I’ll ask Raven to give me pointers.
With a pang of sadness, I realize I’m leaving. Immediately, that sadness hardens into anger.
“Come back here, you fuck.” I chase after his form, raising the bat above my head. It hits the ceiling with a crack.
“Fuck,” I hiss, using all of my strength to whip the bat down into Max’s form. It connects, sending the jolt of impact up both my arms. Both of us groan, and Max goes down.
“Don’t understand no, huh?” I pant, stepping over Max’s body. In the lighting, I can’t quite see what damage has been done. I imagine it though. In my head, he has a nice dent in that bald head of his. Blood is splattered across his face where there’s fear there. The same fear he made Raven feel. The same fear Rich made me feel.
I swing the bat again, and this time, there’s a wet crunch. I know there’s blood now.
I grin. I’m in control now.
Max hacks, and there’s a splattering sound.
“Not so big anymore, huh?” I step over where his legs are, then stomp down, aiming for his knee. I must not hit it ‘cause my foot rolls off muscle. Still, he gives a satisfying scream.
“Too bad she’s not here to see you like this.” I wish she were here. I wish with every fiber in my body that she were here.
Then, I shake myself out of it. She’s busy with Gage. On adate.
Everything feels hot. I swing the bat again. This time, it hits him and then glides off and hits the floor with a loud crack.
Fucking hell.
I swing again. And again. And again, until I’m lost in the motion of it. Over and over and over until my arms are numb. At one point, I hear Rich’s entitled laugh, and I swing harder andharder. It’s not until the bat bounces back and almost hits me that I come back to the present.
It’s quiet, other than the hum of the TV and the haggard sucking of my breath. There’s an ad on TV. I recognize it. It’s an ad we’re running for Newman’s to try and expand.
Suddenly, I’m full of shame. I treated Raven like shit.
I raise the bat again, laying into Max. Or, what’s left of him. The soft, wet thuds are way more neutral than they should be. And I realize I’m wet.
No, not wet. Bloody.
I suck in a few more breaths. This probably looks like a murder scene. Well, it kinda is.
Gage is gonna kill me.
Gage. On a date with Raven.
Good. Let him kill me.
I rack my brain to remember if I touched anything. Left any evidence.
I did. The door handle. Striding over to it, I swing the bat into it. The aluminum clinks off the metal. I hit it again and again and again until it cracks off. Grabbing both pieces, I stalk out of the house into the cold night air.
This should have made me feel better. I want to feel better.
So why do I feel… empty?
Raven should have been here. I did this for her, and she’ll never know.
I yank my mask back up, standing on the front porch for a minute, just breathing in the air through the mask. It smells… coppery.
