His blood pooled on the concrete steps as my body shook from the rush of adrenaline. “Not so fucking tough now, are you?” He let out a few choked sobs.
“Next time I’m going to kill you.” I hit him again in the jaw, my skin on fire as he groaned from the blow. But as I looked up through the screen door and locked eyes with her stepfather, I knew I hadn’t ended a fight, but started a war.
“What the hell is going on?”
I stumbled down the steps and trudged across their yard, wiping blood from my hands down the front of my white cotton T-shirt in a daze.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he yelled after me as the screen door squeaked open on its hinges. “I’m calling the police, you son of a bitch. I’m having you thrown in jail!”
* *
I’d lost count of the blows as the man struggled to protect his face with his arms.
“Please stop,” the woman whimpered, and it dawned on me that her fear was no longer for the man. It was me who was making her voice quiver. I stood over his body, struggling to catch my breath as I looked over the carnage I had caused. My hands were covered in blood, and I wasn’t sure how much of it was my own. I couldn’t feel any pain. I glanced over at the girl, concealed by the shadow of the building next to her.
“He can’t hurt you now,” I said as I stepped over him and turned toward her. She held up her hands and I stopped, glancing back over my shoulder at him. “It’s not what it looks like.” I held my hand out in front of me to show her I wasn’t a threat, but she continued walking backward until her body was pressed against the brick exterior of the building.
“It looks like you just killed him.” Her voice wavered in an unnaturally high pitch.
“All right.” I shook my head and ran my hand roughly through my hair. “It’s exactly what it looks like.” I took a tentative step forward, and she pressed her body harder against the brick as a quiet whimper escaped her lips. I narrowed my eyes as I struggled to make out her features in the dim lighting. “He’s not dead…unfortunately.” A low moan confirmed what I had said.
“Don’t come any closer. I have a gun in my purse.” She clutched the bag against her chest, and I let out a small laugh.
“No offense, but you lie for shit.”
“I won’t tell anyone.” She sounded so small and fragile.
“I believe you.” I took another step closer. “I’m trying to help you.” I could begin to see her frightened face as my eyes adjusted. Her skin was smooth and pale like cream, her eyes big and wide with fright.
“I’m not lying. I swear.” Her long brown hair swayed as she shook her head, and my heart froze fractionally at her resemblance to Katie. This entire situation was too eerily familiar to ignore. My gut twisted as I descended deeper into my perpetual purgatory. She was the physical manifestation of an obsession I’d been unable to shake.
“What’s your name?” I tried to soften my tone, afraid that if I spoke too loudly, she would evaporate like the figment of my imagination that haunted me. If we didn’t leave this place soon, witnesses were going to turn up, but I couldn’t walk away. Not this time. I’d acted on impulse, and I had no idea how I was going to clean up this mess. That was the downfall of living on the road. The only people I could trust were my bandmates. I damn sure didn’t trust anyone here.
Her eyes darted back and forth as she struggled to come up with something.
“What’s a girl like you doing in a dark alley at this time of night anyway?” I cocked my head to the side as she sighed, her eyes going to the gravely road under her feet. I used her distraction to close the gap between us. Her eyes snapped up to mine as she tightened her grip on her bag. I searched her face, curious as to why she wasn’t screaming for help or why she didn’t run away while we were fighting. Her words didn’t match her actions. I knew I should at least feign concern for the guy I nearly beat to death to show her I wasn’t a bad guy, but I felt no remorse. My mind was only focused on her.
Slowly, I raised my hand to brush a dark lock of hair from her forehead, to prove to myself that she was really here and not a figment of my imagination. Her nose was narrower, and she was an inch or two taller than Katie, but my heart still stuttered.
“My fingers are dirty,” I mumbled as she looked at me quizzically. Her breathing hitched, but she stood frozen in place, wincing as my fingertips brushed over a now exposed fresh scrape. “He do this to you?” I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to finish what I had started. Had I not let Bryce live, maybe it would really be Katie in front of me today.