SNEAK PEEK
CHAPTER ONE:
She sat on her bed with a 9mm pistol in her hands, held loosely in her lap, and imagined what it would be like to blow his brains out. How violent could it be, really? How much blood? How long would he remain upright as the life blipped out of him? Would she do it from behind, or would she do it face to face? The latter was the more attractive option, she thought. She thought. She’d never killed anyone before. She’d never wanted to kill anyone before. Anyone else, at least. These thoughts had been running through her mind for some years now. Thoughts of confrontation. A spilling of truths. A spilling of blood. A fantasy she hoped to bring to fruition soon. Very soon. |
There was a niggling doubt in the recess of her mind, however. Of course. She wasn’t a monster, after all. Not like him. Not like the rest of them.
Faint, early morning sunlight began to claw at the window curtains.
To her credit, she imagined the event with no frill. No melodrama. It would go down quickly. The quicker the better, in fact. Less chance for snags. Less chance for that niggling doubt to find its way to the foreground and freeze her up like the nervous, nail-biting mess she knew she truly was.
“This is for you,” she murmured.
Bang.
She turned the pistol over in her lap. Black, nylon-based polymer. A tiny thing. Ten rounds. It didn’t belong to her.
She imagined it all again. His dimwitted face. She lifted the gun in both hands, aimed it at her bedroom wall, one eye shut, and imagined that dimwitted face stricken with fear—beading sweat, a twitching mouth, dawning realization.
“This is for you,” she murmured again.
Her body trembled. Somehow tears sprang into her eyes. She lowered the pistol, cradled it in her lap once again, and allowed her mind to go blank for a time, until the cold rush of anxiety finished flushing through her. Her heart was pounding. She liked to think she was ready for this, that she’d been ready for years now, but only time would tell.
No. I am ready for this.
A single tear dripped from her eye and she hastily swiped away the rest on the back of her hand.
“He deserves this.”
She squashed that ever-looming doubt down as best she could, but it was like holding an inflated balloon underwater. Hopeless. Before she could lose control of it, before it could slip from her grasp and pounce into her mind as a full-fledged notion, she sprang to her feet and placed the pistol into the small hardshell suitcase opened on her bed, already packed with enough clothes for a one-night stay.
One night, she reminded herself. A soothing thought.
And perhaps it wouldn’t even take that long.
END OF SNEAK PEEK
Faint, early morning sunlight began to claw at the window curtains.
To her credit, she imagined the event with no frill. No melodrama. It would go down quickly. The quicker the better, in fact. Less chance for snags. Less chance for that niggling doubt to find its way to the foreground and freeze her up like the nervous, nail-biting mess she knew she truly was.
“This is for you,” she murmured.
Bang.
She turned the pistol over in her lap. Black, nylon-based polymer. A tiny thing. Ten rounds. It didn’t belong to her.
She imagined it all again. His dimwitted face. She lifted the gun in both hands, aimed it at her bedroom wall, one eye shut, and imagined that dimwitted face stricken with fear—beading sweat, a twitching mouth, dawning realization.
“This is for you,” she murmured again.
Her body trembled. Somehow tears sprang into her eyes. She lowered the pistol, cradled it in her lap once again, and allowed her mind to go blank for a time, until the cold rush of anxiety finished flushing through her. Her heart was pounding. She liked to think she was ready for this, that she’d been ready for years now, but only time would tell.
No. I am ready for this.
A single tear dripped from her eye and she hastily swiped away the rest on the back of her hand.
“He deserves this.”
She squashed that ever-looming doubt down as best she could, but it was like holding an inflated balloon underwater. Hopeless. Before she could lose control of it, before it could slip from her grasp and pounce into her mind as a full-fledged notion, she sprang to her feet and placed the pistol into the small hardshell suitcase opened on her bed, already packed with enough clothes for a one-night stay.
One night, she reminded herself. A soothing thought.
And perhaps it wouldn’t even take that long.
END OF SNEAK PEEK