Page 70 of Anchored to the Storm

Gawking, the rest of us stared at him.

He watched the ball as he dribbled it back up the driveway. Making a shot, he said, “That’s why I got a gun.”

The proper reaction would’ve been, “Are you nuts? Guns are dangerous!” Since I was far from proper, instead, I growled, “No. Fucking. Way. We agreed a bullet was too nice. His death is to be slow and painful.”

Gage ran his hands down his face. “This is so bad.”

Ethan asked Finn, “Bro, how the fuck did you get a pew-pew?”

Finn dribbled the ball, then made another shot. “Cashed in a favor.”

Gage took the ball from him. “A favor? That sounds like a trail that can lead back to us, dumbass.”

I insisted, “It don’t matter. I ain’t shooting him. I’m gutting him alive.”

Ethan told me, “You say that like we have a place to get bloody and not get caught.”

Rolling my neck, I seethed. “I’ll do it in the field where she was found.” Blood for blood.

Finn grabbed the ball back from Gage while telling me, “Gather your torture tools, Jeffrey Dahmer. You and I start spying in one week.”

I studied him. He was being too willing. What are you up to? Wait, only you and me?

Ethan bitched, “Better be including me in this fiasco.”

With force, Finn shot the ball at his chest. “What about Sarah?”

Ethan shot the ball back at him. “Not to be involved.”

The ball flew again. “No shit. But what if you get caught? Where does that leave her?”

The ball soared and hit the house. “I don’t know!”

I stood there, wishing I felt bad for his inner torture, but his girl was still alive. Mine was gone.

When the front door swung open and Sarah came out, asking, “Everything okay?” Ethan got to hold her. Rock her in his arms.

I. Will. Never. Get. That. Chance. Again.

That’s why I ran, as fast as I could, down the road the pastor had just driven along. No one called my name. The Misfits understood I needed space. That’s why they didn’t follow too closely. Gage and Finn’s footfalls were a comfort, and another sign they were going to follow me straight to Hell.

If one of them didn’t get there first.

That night, it was about 12:30 AM when I caught Finn sneaking down the hallway. Seeing me, he stopped, his shoulders caving.

I knew you were up to something! I shook my head. Then I pointed to my chest, mouthing, My kill.

Finn was doing me a solid, trying to take the fall for the pastor’s murder, but too much had already been taken from me. He had to let me have this one.

That’s why he conceded and went back to his room.

And from that moment on, my fate was sealed.

East Eight

With My Soul

She is life. . . for me. . .