Violet Grenade(97)

Taken.

Wilson? I whisper.

Yes, I'm here. What do you need? Name it.

Make them pay.

Wilson cracks his knuckles, grins until the corners of his mouth touch the bottom of his ears. Say the words.

I close my eyes. Come into me, Wilson. Do the things I cannot while I turn away. Use my body and mind as your own.

No sooner do I think this than Wilson wraps himself around my head, soothing fingers of black stretching over my brain. He shushes me and hugs me close, reassuring. Goose bumps race across my skin, and my knees wobble.

I'll show them what it means to suffer, he says. I will avenge you. I will love you. I will protect you.

Now go to sleep.

"Domino, talk to me," Cain says. "What's happening?"

My head whips backward, and I scream.

Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here.Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. Wilson is here. 





I am here.





Chapter Sixty-Three

Here Comes the Thunder

My name is Domino Ray, but I am not Domino Ray. I am Wilson. I remember the things we did. The torture we inflicted on those men. The ways we made them scream. I remember watching as the last shovel of dirt fell over their faces, as their cars sunk into secluded lakes. I remember cement being poured over their bodies by unsuspecting construction workers and wringing our hands at the sight. I remember all the things we did.

And I will do them again.

I speed down the highway, the sun setting in the distance. Reds and purples spill over one another like a stomach split down the middle, innards everywhere. Look at me. I'm a poet!

Cain sits next to me, stoic. He's holding a backpack full of tools I bought from Home Depot-serrated knives, rope, masking tape … and a can of red spray paint, because old habits die hard. I threw in a few other toys for good measure to produce when the time is right. Cain didn't ask questions as we shopped for these things, Michael Jackson playing overhead while we pushed an orange cart down the aisles. He understands I'm gone. Or rather, that the new me has arrived. What really gets me going is that the dude took one look at my vacant eyes and seemed to disappear into his own head. Two can play at that game, he said without speaking.

See, that's why I like the kid.

He knows how screwed up I am. That I have two sides. Domino the Gentle, Domino the Feared. And when he saw I'd flipped my switch, it's like he thought, Screw it. Let's do this thing.

He could have run.

He could have backstepped out of sight.

But instead he let his crazy flag fly and took my hand.

That's some Romeo and Juliet shit right there.

The car I stole is lime green and one of the front headlights is busted. But the driver left the keys tucked above the sunshade, and they slid into my hand like a favor from above. Or below. Whatever. And you know what I did before we took off across New Mexico on our way back to Pox? Ask me. Go on, ask me!

I spray-painted HERE COMES THE THUNDER on the side of this lime green car.