The cool February breeze chilled my heart and spine. I would shiver if I wasn't used to this kind of weather already. True, it probably wasn't the best time to be walking around this late at night, but I was bored. So bored, in fact, that I had circled the park by my house four times, made my way six miles to downtown Salem and decided while I'm here I might as well have a smoke.
I breathed in the crisp late winter air and pulled the pack of cigarettes along with my Zippo lighter out my back pocket. I touched the butt of the cigarette to my lips and sucked in the Nicotine that threatened to kill me in the end. But then again, what didn't now-a-days?
I looked around the barely lit town and waited desperately for something other than the night sky to interest me.
"Hey, Ky. What are you doing here?" Brandyn. My best and only friend in this god-forsaken place. And for that reason I didn't need to look up. I knew exactly who it was.
"I ask myself that same question every time I end up down here." I exhaled deeply and looked up at him. I could barely see his face in the shadows but id I didn't need light to see his beauty. His shaggy blonde hair fell over his blue-green eyes and his chiseled jaw and full light pink lips, were the envy of every man. But, I wasn't interested in him like that.
Sure, he'd been the only guy I've ever talked to since we moved here six years ago. And sure, he's the most amazing guy to ever set foot in Salem besides my twin brother Matthew. And yeah, I'd willingly given him my virginity a few years back just because I could trust him with it. But, no, I didn't see him like that. Even though every other girl here did.
"Well, you really shouldn't be out here by yourself...hey, your cig is almost out," Brandyn informed me with a slight nod towards my cigarette.
Fuck. I was so caught up in thought I hadn't even noticed it had quickly turned into ash. I flicked it into the street in annoyance and stood up. I stuffed my hands in my over grown Hoodie and flipped my dark bangs out of my left eye's view.
Brandyn wasn't much taller than me but as he looked at me with such knowledge and understanding, I felt so small.
"What the hell are you looking at?" I asked and looked away in irritation.
"I know you, Kya. I've known you since we were 11 years old. You think I wouldn't know when you were pissed off? C'mon, Ky. You must think I'm stupid or something."
I rolled my eyes in obvious frustration; he was right. He always was about this kind of stuff. Sometimes I wondered why he wasted his time with me. Sometimes I wondered why he even gave me the time of day. Then, I realized it wasn't sometimes, it was all the time.
"Nah. I just don't feel like talking about it Bray, okay?" He'd understand. He had to.
"Ky." He sighed. "You now know I love you." And I did, so I gave a quick nod and waited for the 'Don't-be-stupid-because-I-need-you-you're-my-best-friend' speech. But it didn't come. He didn't have time to speak.
I held up my hand for him to stop talking, so I could hear. I felt something. Something was wrong; I could feel it in the air.
"You need to get out of here." The words came out of my mouth in a shamble. A rambling attempt to tell him to leave me alone. Because something was coming. And not something I would want him to see.
"What? What do you mean. I-" But, he couldn't finish. Not after I heard the gun fire a block and a half away. I tried to push Brandyn out of the way but I was too late. I watched as the bullet sunk deep into Brandyn's back.
Brandyn always did wonder why I didn't have any friends. Well, this was why. Now, he knew.
The life escaped his blue-green eyes as he sunk to his knees. I picked him up quickly and leaned him against the deserted restaurant that closed hours ago.
I turned in the direction of the murderer and we locked eyes.
"Big mistake," I whispered venomously.
And by the look in the killer's eyes, they knew it too.
My emotions have always done myself harm, but now, now they would cause only the assassin harm.
I quickly ran towards the silhouette that was shadowed by buildings and saw the outline of a man. He recklessly shot of his entire round in my direction which I dodged with agility and grace. In 30 seconds flat I was clutching his tiny throat in my hand with his entire body raised against the hard brick wall. The fear in his eyes showed he was a new-be at this.
"Who sent you?" My voice was hard with rage.
"Я не говорю на английском языке" Translation: I don't speak English.
Hm...so he was Russian. I could speak that fluently.
"Кто послал Вам?" Who sent you?
His eyes widened in surprise. He raised his hands to my tightly gripped one around his throat that was slowly closing with every passing second. He tried and failed to loosen my grip.
"Я сорву ваше горло. Теперь, скажите мне, кто послал Вам?" I will rip your throat out. Now tell me. Who sent you?
Harsh. But, necessary. He raised his hands in surrender. And finally, he spoke.
"Alexander Ivashkov," he choked out.
No. Not-
"He tells me to send his regards about your friend. And that he's watching," he continued in English. "Он заставил меня изучить это на английском языке" He made me learn that in English, he finished in Russian.
"Alexander sends his regards, huh? Well...tell daddy I said 'Fuck him'" I replied in English and the guy didn't need to know English to know what that meant.
I pulled out my gun with my left hand while keeping my grip with my right. The man started to squirm but he wasn't going anywhere.
The cold gun touched his sweating forehead and I fired one single shot right between his eyebrows. He crumpled to the floor as I let him out of my grasp.
I hope daddy gets the message.
I'm not fucking playing anymore.
