Page 58 of No Small Sin

Iwoke up the next day with a dull ache in my chest. I instinctively reached out to TK’s side of the bed, only to find only the smooth chill of cold sheets and empty space.

I promised her that I would do whatever it took, but at this point, I had very few ideas.

And the ideas I did have were very much not ideal.

I wanted to consider all the options before resorting to anything outlandish, but time was not on our side with this one.

Driving always seemed to be the thing that cleared my mind. The steady motion and the repetitive sounds. Rubber on asphalt had a way of settling anything that plagued me, helping me think things through and rearrange my thought processes.

I let out a heavy sigh and forced myself out of bed. I grabbed a faded pair of jeans from my closet and chose a worn black t-shirt with rips in the sleeves. As I dressed, I felt the weight of the days ahead settle in my bones.

I looked in my bathroom mirror, my eyes searching for an answer and coming up short, so I headed out of my apartment and down to my car.

I drove out of town, simply wanting to be far away from Fate Trace — far away from the suffocating prospect of my entire world crashing down around me.

My plan for clearing my mind seemed to have the opposite effect than usual. The further I drove, the more I vibrated with unspent rage.

I found a quiet spot near the lake and put my car in park, cracking my neck and taking a deep breath. I didn’t remember most of the drive and wasn’t entirely sure how I actually ended up in this particular spot.

The cabin wasn’t actually that far from here, but I wanted to have some semblance of an update for TK before I went back to her. I was dying to see her, to touch her. But I couldn’t.

Not yet.

My mind reeled with the possibilities. Taking her somewhere far away from here didn’t seem good enough — drastic enough. She needed to be free, to be able to live without this hanging over her head for the rest of our lives together, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Was I even capable of being the one to protect her? Being the one to give her what she needs and deserves?

I sat motionlessly in my car, time blurring as each second crept past. Only the sound of the engine ticking as it cooled registered faintly in my mind. As if on cue, the slight sound of music reached me, steadily growing louder until it was so close that I could no longer ignore it.

A car had parked a short length away from me, unaware of my presence. The barely intelligible words of the song floated out over the lake and filled the short distance between us in the still morning air.

His obliviousness likely stemmed from the fact that we were in the middle of absolute nowhere — both of us presumably expecting to be the only ones present for our respective mid-morning rendezvous.

I realized then, an ignorant warm body having ambled right into my murderous presence, exactly what it was that I needed to set my mind at ease.

Blood.

Without thinking, I yanked my keys from the ignition, shoving them into my pocket and popping the trunk before getting out of the car.

My clubs were in the back… and I was about to act on an impulse I’d resisted for years now.

I pulled my favorite one from my bag and slammed the trunk, making my way toward the man’s car.

His head lay back against the headrest, eyes closed as if he were asleep despite the blaring music. He was likely high, which meant that this would be a lot less fun for me — no fight — but that didn’t change much.

My eyes roved over his still form, catching on the tourniquet still tied tightly around his arm and the needle dangling from the bend, still embedded in his flesh.

I knew what it felt like to be addicted, a slave to your own needs.

We had that in common, but there was one difference: Today, he would be set free.

And me? I would walk away with my chains still fully intact, assuaged for the time being.

I opened his car door and slid into the back seat, maneuvering my club between the two front seats in a way that allowed me to slip one end quickly around his front, grabbing it with my other and barring it tightly around his neck.

He roused then, the cold bite of metal bringing him back to consciousness. I didn’t allow him a chance to attempt to speak, pulling the club so tightly against his windpipe that it crunched under the pressure. After only a moment of him struggling against me, his body wilted in the front seat.

I climbed out, then opened his door and jerked his body to the ground. The music blared even louder with the doors open, some nu metal band that I didn’t recognize, but the lyrics were fitting for such activities.

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