“Just put the gun down, Jesse.” The sound of my own voice was strange to me. My mouth was dry, my throat tight with fear.
An eternity passed as I stared down the barrel, eyeing his shaky finger pressing down on the trigger. It seemed like the entire world was trembling, but when I turned to look at Ms. Reeves, wide-eyed and mouth open, frozen like someone who knows they’re about to see someone die, I realized, it was me.
What the hell did I get myself into, now?
Jesse’s eyes darted back and forth, and the sharp screech of sirens gave me hope for a second, but then I looked into his eyes with what I hoped was pleading and his eyes flickered with hatred. He readjusted his grip on the gun he held out, and my heart leapt into my throat.
Click.
One look and I could tell what he was thinking. “There’s still time to kill both of them and get out before the cops get here.”
For some reason, that thought sickened me and I swallowed a bit of vomit. Then, my legs started moving. I tried, but I couldn’t stop myself and I’d already crossed half of the distance between me and him.
The last thing I remember thinking before he pulled that trigger.
I’m sorry, pops.
Yesterday.
Buzz.
“Dammit, Karina.” That was second time she accidentally buzzed my ear with the clippers and from the smirk on her painted lips, I was starting to think she enjoyed tormenting me.
I opened my mouth to say something, then, like she could read my mind, she rocked back, cocking her hips, daring me to say something.
Reaching up and running my fingers through my uneven hair. Nope, nothing.
“Good,” she clicked her tongue in that irritating way that she thought was so cute. With another few cuts, she was done and she stepped back to admire her work. “Not bad, huh?”
I hated to see her so full of herself, but I had to admit, she knew what she was doing. I started to thank her, but it just came out as an awkward smile.
“I’m sorry I can’t do anything about the rest,” I remembered why I hated her as she waved to the rest of my reflection in the mirror, flicking the air with her long acrylic claws, “but I don’t work miracles.”
