him as he hunched on his hands and knees. She threw her leg over his body and sat down on his back, tapping the top of his head with a knife pulled from his very own pocket. “You called me a bitch…that is a female dog, but somehow I’m on top…you must have been mistaken.”
“Pleas—”
“You won’t make that mistake again.” She slit his throat open before rising and his body collapsed. “And Mr. Kidnapper number three, now where do you think you’re going?”
He was trying to crawl. Trying being the key word because he only made it an inch towards the gun he’d dropped before she picked it up. “You used the back of this to hit me. Sir, it doesn’t work that way. Let me show you how to use a gun properly.”
She put the gun in his mouth and fired, blood splattering on her. I opened the door to the room and she whirled at the sound, her gun already leveled at me. The rage in her eyes was enough to set the devil running.
“Gus, you went through so much trouble and Ethan Callahan was here the whole time. I guess we have nothing to talk about anymore.” Gus turned to me looking for mercy, his hand raised for help—she shot at it. His hand ripped apart, but she didn’t stop there. She fired off a few more rounds. He was long dead; she was just being vindictive now. She looked at the rifle. “Guns are never very satisfying…I feel like it takes all the credit for my hard work, and they’re just messy. But today I’m a fan.”
She focused on me, a storm raging in her grey eyes. “So, Mr. Callahan, give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you.”
“Did you get this strong just to marry me Cordelia…or should I say Calliope?” I approached carefully and stood in front of her. “I almost didn’t remember you. You hid your birthmarks well, but you forgot the ones behind your ear. Millions of people have them, but in the exact same place the on same ear? I’d only seen that on you, when we were children.”
“Ethan, dear, foolish, cute Ethan,” she exhaled as if she was trying to not laugh, shaking her head; her voice became softer and much more serious. “I didn’t forget anything, congrats on finding the clue. But sadly, marrying you is not a good enough reason for this. So, I have to shoot you now.”
“Don’t—” I tried to speak but she’d already pulled the trigger.
And all I saw was darkness.
CALLIOPE – AGE 21
Bogotá, Colombia
Saturday, June 30th
I was pissed. It had been well over eight hours now, but I was still pissed, and this motherfucker was still asleep. To make matters worse he’s handsome when he sleeps, and since he wasn’t awake, I could do nothing but stare at his stupid handsomeness.
“Ugh,” he groaned, his head tossing side to side as he tried to get comfortable on his pillow.
“Oh, suck it up. With all that cocaine I put in your system, you shouldn’t be feeling a damn thing.” The moment I said that, his eyes snapped open. His breathing quickened as he sat up on the couch, checking his arms.
“You did what?” he had the nerve to snap at me.
“I spared your life and stitched up your forehead,” I said, lifting the glass of water and ibuprofen for him. “You’re welcome.”
“The cocaine?” he hissed through his teeth, which only made him grimace.
“Exactly where you left it,” I nodded to the table behind him. “I only said I doped you up because I’m enjoying the panic on your face, makes me feel a little bit better.”
“The bullet you shot at my head didn’t do it for you?” He winced, reaching up to feel the gauze by his hairline.
“Nope,” I shook my head. “That was an angel kiss.”
“Last time I checked the devil was an angel too,” he muttered. He tried to stand, but I extended my leg, kicking him back down. He stared at my bare foot before looking back up to me. “You’re still pissed?”
“Didn’t I make that clear already?” I sneered, breathing out of my nose. “You had me kidnapped, Ethan.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
He stared at me blankly. “Do I have to answer that question?”
I lifted the gun and pointed it at him. “Do you want to know what happens when you don’t? Hint: I pull the trigger…again.”
“I remember you being much more rational when we were kids.”