Chapter 4

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Jayla Santiago's POV.

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I shake the spray can and the spray can and then turn my head to an angle.

Should I?....
Yeah!

I spray on the 'xo' and then look back at my latest victim.

Poor boy was only 18, but he also stole from my family, by skimming off some of the profits from the legal and illegal side when he was told to count it.

That's food out of my little sisters' mouths and we can have that, now can we?...

I look at the knife protruding from his throat, the blade, nearly invisible from how deep it is, but nonetheless, slick with his crimson blood and I grin.

This one put up a little fight at least.

He struggled as he tried to stop me and that just made me angrier.

I put my paint cans into my duffel bag and then open his draws, clearing out anything that is remotely expensive.

His watches, rings, cuff-links.

After all, it was because of the gang that he was able to afford all of it, the ungrateful bastard.

I also open the shoebox in top of his wardrobe to see a wad of cash.

I lick my lips and grin, wider.

I flick my gloved thumb over the corners and hear the satisfying page-flick, like sound.

Lovely.

With all of my stolen stuff, I get up.

I'm about to leave his room, when I hear his front door open and close.

I freeze.

I've never been caught and I am not about to start now!

I look around for an exit.

"Daniel, are you home yet?!" A young woman's voice yells.

Must be his girlfriend, poor thing.

I spot a window and, retrieving my knife from Daniel's neck, I immediately walk towards it.

Wait. What am I missing?

I look around the room, racking my brain.

A-ha! A reason for somebody to find the body and make a scene!

I spot a lampshade in the corner of the room and an idea surfaces.

I walk quietly across the room and grab the the lampshade, picking it off the desk and then smashing it on the floor, to make it smash into a hundred pieces.

I listen and hear the person's footsteps hammer up the stairs frantically.

"Daniel! Are you okay?!" They call out.

That's my cue.

I run across the room, slide the window open and spot a drainpipe next to me.

Perfect.

A knock sounds on the bedroom door.

"Daniel?" They ask.

I leap out of the window and slide down the drainpipe, landing gracefully on the ground, with my duffel bag, tucked under my arm.

I make it a few paces away before I hear a piercing scream sound out.

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