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.I try to focus on the threads and block out the pounding in my head.It smells sour.Like someone spilled a White Russian here weeks ago and never bothered to wipe it up.My gut rises as my eyes look upward and see a puddle of blood seeped into the carpet just above my head.If I lift my head, I know there will be more.Blood is a strange thing, especially when you’re so close to this much of it.As I look at the puddle, only inches from my face, I realize it’s darker than I thought it would be, and though I don’t know exactly how long I’ve been lying here, it can’t be much longer than twenty or thirty minutes.The margins of the puddle have already congealed, making it look more like dark jelly than blood.The liquid that hasn’t soaked into the stubby carpet fibers has settled on the top, looking wobbly and thick.Part of me wants to touch it to see if it’s still warm.The other part of me wants to puke.But I manage to keep my hands, and my lunch, to myself because it isn’t my blood.It’s Ray’s.He’s behind me, lying on the same foul-smelling carpet, only he’s the one who soaked it with crimson.Unlike me, his eyes aren’t half-open.He isn’t breathing.He isn’t moving.I heard his body hit the floor soon after my own.And shortly after that, I heard the sick gurgle of his last breath.It was followed by a “fuck you” as Franklin kicked Ray’s lifeless body just for his own confirmation.I was the whipping boy, but Ray was the target.And I was the one that made it so.Because this is how far I’m willing to go to protect her.It was easy, really.I left Franklin’s and took my time driving over to Ray’s place.I called him on the way.I started our conversation by telling Ray I decided that maybe he did deserve the ninety percent we talked about the other night.He said it was a very smart choice.I agreed, of course.Then I proceeded to tell him a different story than the one I’d told Franklin.I told Ray that Franklin had Nikki—and my money—and that he had no intention of giving either one of them up.Then I told Ray we needed to do something about it.Together.I told him we had to teach Franklin and Nikki a lesson.Ray needed his best girl back in the saddle now, and I needed the eighteen-hundred dollars she supposedly stole from me.And, most important, Franklin needed to know that Ray is not interested in his bullshit.Ray was breathing fire into the phone as he listened to my words.Then his mouth started spewing out words of its own.Words about Franklin and “that fucking whore.” Words fueled by anger and adrenaline.And my lies.He was fucking pissed.I told him I was on my way to his place so we could come up with a plan, but I knew he wouldn’t wait.I knew he’d call Franklin before I even got there.And I was right.That’s exactly what he did.Fools like Ray are predictable.One look at those gold teeth and you know it’s the truth.When I’m absolutely certain that Franklin is gone, I lift my head from the carpet and sit up.My left eye is starting to swell shut, and my skull rages with a dull pain.I sit cross-legged on the floor and raise my hand to my mouth.When I pull it away, my fingers are tipped with red.All my teeth are still there, but my lip is split and slick with blood.So this is what it feels like to be Nikki.This is what it feels like to meet Franklin’s fists.To be someone’s punching bag.No wonder that woman was happy when Brad and Cameron came to get her.No wonder she seemed relieved when I shoved that money in her pocket and told her to get the fuck out of town.And no wonder she was furious about what happened with Ricky.She’s more ballsy than I ever gave her credit for.Wherever she is, I hope she’s happy.I raise the collar of my T-shirt up over my chin, using the inside of the fabric to wipe the blood off my face.I lick my bottom lip, feeling the split flesh with my tongue.Emma’s going to flip when she sees me.She’s going to freak the fuck out about this.I’m dreading the conversation already.But first, I’ve got to get the hell out of here before somebody sees me.Before one of Ray’s guys shows up to ask him some dumbass question.I stand up, being careful not to step in Ray’s blood.I don’t want to leave any tracks.I didn’t touch anything here, so after I pick up my shattered phone, there will be no trace of me.Nothing to tell anyone I was even here in the first place.There’s nothing of Franklin’s here either, except for the bullet in Ray’s chest.And that will never lead them to Franklin.Untraceable, stolen weapons are the norm in Franklin’s world, and even though he’s no college professor, I know he was smart enough to use one.Ray was a pimp and a drug dealer.And Franklin is probably packing for Mexico.This was a favor to society.Not just to me.And, truth be told, none of it matters anyway.Because Ray’s boys will find Franklin long before the police do.I walk quickly out the door, heading down the hall and bending to collect my phone.When I pick it up, I notice that the screen is cracked into a spider web of fissures.Soon after he got here and started throwing his goddamned tantrum, Franklin grabbed the phone out of my hand and threw the damn thing right out the door.It hit the wall before clattering across the floor tiles and settling a few feet away.It happened right before his fist met my face for the first time.I let him land four solid hits.Then I fell to the floor, closed my eyes, and listened to him end Ray.My phone is totally ruined.Permanently unusable.It was worth it, though.Completely.---------------------------------------------------------------I start the engine and pull out onto Winston Street.The clock in my car says it’s 6:45.Forty-five minutes after I was supposed to pick Emma up.I wonder what she’s doing.I wonder how many times she’s tried to call.How many text messages she’s sent.She’s probably sitting on the bus right now, her fingers pressing into the keypad, her mind pondering all the places I could be.I have no way to reach her because I don’t remember her number, only my broken phone does.An idea pops into my head, and I pull over and walk into JC’s Pizza.The squirrelly guy behind the counter looks at me like I walked straight out of an episode of The Walking Dead.My eye is starting to swell shut and the blood on my lip has dried to a hard crust.He sheepishly offers me a bag of ice, but I say no thanks and tell him I just need to use their phone.He puts it up on the counter and motions his approval; then he walks to the shelving unit at the back of the store.Though he’s trying to be covert, he’s definitely watching me to make sure I don’t steal anything.But I’m completely focused on the phone, and when I pick it up and dial, I see his shoulders relax a little.I call information and get the number of the lawn service company Brad works for [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]