The Enemy Lives Next Door (bxb)

Part Eighteen

Part Eighteen

•••

I'm seething with rage, ready to make Liam pay. My fists tighten and loosen rhythmically as I mutter to myself, "he fucked up. Now it's time to pay." The sharp edge of my anger slices through any remaining patience I had.

My backpack is packed with everything I need: curved artery forceps, plane-toothed thumb forceps, a curette, Metzenbaum scissors, a rope, duct tape, and a black beanie.

I can almost hear the sinister satisfaction of my plans taking shape. The grave for Liam is already dug in his backyard. I've prepared everything meticulously; there's no turning back.

I storm through the double doors of the school, my boots thudding loudly against the tile floor. Students scatter out of my way, casting worried glances as I make my way to Liam's locker. My mind is a storm of fury and frustration. The betrayal stings like a fresh wound, gnawing at me.

I glance at my watch with growing impatience. The seconds tick by slowly, each one adding to the burning anger inside me. Liam is late. What if he's avoiding me? What if he knows I saw him and is trying to stay out of my way? I narrow my eyes, determination sharpening my focus.

The hallway fills with the chatter of students. I can't let my best friends see me like this; they'll pummel me with questions. My heart races, not just from anger but also from the tension of waiting.

A kid walks by, and I grab him by the collar, shoving him into the lockers. "Tell me where Liam is, or I'll make sure you regret it," I demand, my voice a low growl.

His eyes widen in terror, and he stammers, "H-He's in the locker room. But you're not allowed in there."

I release him, straightening his shirt with a forced smile. "Sorry, man. Didn't mean to scare you. Now get lost before I make you regret it."

He bolts down the hall, leaving me with my rising fury. My breath comes in sharp bursts as I think about Liam's betrayal. The idea of confronting him in the locker room stirs up a storm of emotions—anger, betrayal, and a dark satisfaction. I push through the crowd of students, heading towards the boys' locker room with grim determination.

As I push the door open, the scent of sweat and stale air hits me. The locker room is a chaotic mess of jocks and their insecurities. Their heads snap toward me in unison, eyes wide with a mix of shock and embarrassment. I can see their hands dart to cover themselves, their faces flushed with self-consciousness.

"Dale, what the hell?" a brown-haired jock asks, his tone a mix of annoyance and alarm. "You can't just barge in here. This is for football players only."

I let out a dark chuckle, stepping further into the room. "Do you see me giving a damn about that?" I say, my voice dripping with menace. "Show me where Liam is, or I'll make sure this place is a disaster zone."

The jock scoffs, and the others snicker, their laughter a dull background noise to my rising anger. I reach into my bag and pull out a smoke bomb, tossing it onto the floor. It hisses and erupts into a thick cloud of smoke. The jocks' panicked shouts and confused movements fade into the haze.

I move quickly, kicking one of the jocks in the groin with a swift, practiced motion. The smoke bomb's cloud obscures my vision, but I keep moving, my steps purposeful. When the smoke begins to clear, I spot Liam at the far end of the locker room.