Song: Don't Blame Me
Artist, Year: Taylor Swift, 2017
I exhale from the depths of my lungs the mixture of nicotine, sugar, ammonia, and whatever-else-shit that took a loop through my bloodstream. The macabre cloud that leaves my mouth disperses languidly around my face and my dark plum lips pull into a grin. I inch down the driver's side window just the slightest, knowing I need fresh oxygen, but loving the camouflage my vice has blessed me with. Not that I think he'd be able to recognize this vintage phantom black Mustang anyway - it's a rental.
I'm no stranger to heartbreak. Usually, I'm on the breaking end. And I'm certainly no stranger to stakeouts and utilizing deadly force. However, I am a stranger to mixing those separate parts of my being.
When I was made, I believe that the part of me capable of love and the part of me embodying the essence of a black widow spider were walled off, never intended to be combined. Unfortunately, what is intended is not always what happens.
And I'm lucky that not only is this personal vendetta allowed - I'm getting paid top dollar to off that bastard. Yeah, that's right, bastard. He's been dead to me long before I've parked my car out here for the kill. I was just lucky enough to swipe up the perfect chance to exact my revenge.
My perfectly manicured onyx fingernails fiddle with the radio and out of the static emerges a song with progressing gospel chorus. I don't remember if he was religious. He'd utter things about "God" between hasty breaths, but I don't think that counts. I suppose we'll find out shortly.
I take the last few drags of my cigarette, holding my kneecap through the thin fabric of my leggings with my free hand. I know the nerves and muscles of my body are jumpy, just begging to spring to action. There are few rushes in my life like this - and one fewer since he wronged me.
A shadow passes through the flickering streetlight in front of his apartment building and I chuck the butt of my long-gone cigarette out the cracked window. The shadow scurries up the steps and unlocks the moldy green door of the aged brick building, slipping inside.
Showtime.
I smooth out my baggy dark top over the skin-tight utility belt hugging my waist. Checking my dark lips one more time in the mirror, I push open the driver's side door and set each foot down on the pavement, one sharp stiletto after the other.
Not bothering to lengthen or hurry my strides, I belatedly follow the shadow's previous steps to the moldy green door, finding the doorknob twists effortlessly in response to the twist of my wrist. And he still doesn't lock the door. Cute.
Before we even got to this point, I knew what I would do. After the annoying moping stage finally left, I was enlightened by the rage-fueled iterations of demise my dreams cooked up. Forget poison - this isn't a typical woe-is-me woman who wants to sneakily off her man. I believe when he first saw me, his exact words were:
"Damn, girl - you're cutthroat."
I chuckle darkly to myself, steadily ascending the rotting wooden staircase, knowing all the weak steps to avoid by heart. Well, it's a perfect description of me, if you don't say so yourself?
I pause in front of the scratched red door labeled "303". It's cracked open to the darkness, inviting me in. My chest rises and falls as I study the blank space. Even when I was invited here, that door was never open. Oh, shit he-
"Whatcha doing, Lilith?" He slithers up behind me, his words taunting me. His hands feel along my waistline, just below my goods. It's been weeks since I've felt him on me, but my skin perks up to his touch right away.
"I...missed you...Rafael..." I blurt out in spurts through gritted teeth, trying to make sense of what is going on. I'm painstakingly cautious. There's no way he knew what I did when I left him.
"Oh, really?" He unfurls my dark hair from its bun, playing whimsically with the strands that come loose. Now I feel like I'm the mouse and he's the cat. No wonder they were paying so damn much to get rid of him. "I'm flattered."
I don't dare to move or breathe. Maybe I can lure him back in and catch him off guard-
"Come in." His words trail across my neck as he pulls away, then brushes the door open with his forearm. And here he is, leading me to his master trap, I presume?
With his back to me, I pull a kunai loose from my belt, gripping it low with my hand behind my thigh. He doesn't bother to flick on the light, but I know where he is - seated at his usual spot at the two-person table in his kitchen. I take the other spot.
"Fancy a drink?" He dares from the darkness in front of me. I spy the shadowy outline of two small shot glasses and a bottle in the dim light filtering in the window from the city. Sensing my reluctance, he sighs and brings the bottle to his lips. After hearing a long guzzle, he sets it back down. "Now, Lilith... I may have broken your heart, but I wouldn't dare poison you."
I fight the fidgeting sensation crawling over the hand which feels heavier and heavier with my clean kunai suspended within its grasp. "Fine," I agree grudgingly.
He pours both shots, sliding one across the table to me. I catch it without a second thought. "To the craziness of love," he salutes with a faint clink to my glass. I murmur back half the words and we both hold in the natural urge to exhale loudly at the thrilling burn that passes down our throats. It's followed by an unexpected sweetness that lingers on my tongue.
And that's when I know it's my chance. I drop the glass to the floor, not even registering the sound of it shattering or the shards I should be careful not to fall on. I spring out of the worn, wooden chair and encircle his chest with my forearm to trap him, my kunai ready to plunge into his jugular.
The only problem? His hand is covering mine on the kunai. And no matter how much I do the math over and over in my head, I can't fight against his muscle mass.
"Let me cut you a deal, my dear..." He speaks calmly, with an even cadence. "I knew you were coming. And I knew who you were from day one."
God fucking damn it. For the record, I'm not religious.
"And you know that I'm a hopeless romantic, right?"
What. The. Hell? What kind of underhanded spineless shit was this?
I squirmed against his grip on mine, trying to force the kunai closer and closer. "What... do you...want?" I grunted between attempts to lunge myself further.
"The reason you had that big target on me?" He turned his face to speak directly into my ear. "Was because I refused to give you up."
I scoffed. "You already gave me up, asshole."
"In one way, yes. To those who really wanted you, no." He loosened his grip on mine cautiously and I held back the urge to rip into him so he could be lulled into more false security. "You're more valuable to me alive than dead. That's why I walked away from you."
"Sure, right." I rolled my eyes, watching his muscles loosen. Just...a little...more-
He broke free of my hold and the table and chairs flipped with a massive clatter when he landed on top of me. My head throbbed and my tongue detected the fresh iron taste of my blood. The kunai landed with a clang out of my reach in the dark.
"So what now?" I challenged him, spitting up at his face. If I was going to die, he could at least not drag it out so much. Pacing was never his strong suit. Always too fast or too slow...
He wiped away the spit on his cheek with the back of his hand, placing it back to the side of my shoulders to trap me. "I told you, I'm a hopeless romantic." He started to laugh - first a low grumble in his chest, then outwardly, echoing sinisterly in the night.
"What did you do?" I spoke with blood dripping from my lips. I could hear the drops falling to the ground next to me with a little plip, plop sound. "What the hell did you do?"
He stopped laughing and climbed off of me feeling around on his hands and knees. I assumed he was looking for the kunai.
"Why dear, I 'Romeo and Juliet'ed' us."
I rolled over with a grunt, thankful I still had some sort of a stimulant in my system. "Well, dear... let the race to the end begin."