Page 24 of The Coldest: Stay Dangerous Part 2

Me killing Rico.

Different scenarios begin to play. Me throwing him off a cliff. Running him over. Shooting him once. Shooting him twice. Over and over again, they play.

I want to do it.

I want to kill him.

A final act of revenge. I’d probably die right after, and it may be a gruesome one, but I’d die happy. Because at least he’s gone, too.

I grunt, my heart simmering down just a little.

That’s not enough.

No… I don’t wanna leave my life in the hands of whatever psycho family he has around here.

I’ll kill us both.

My hands unfist immediately. My body agrees with my mind.

“How poetic,” I whisper, rolling my eyes.

Ah well. Better get on with it now while I have the nerves.

I heave myself up off the bed and crack my neck, then my knuckles. The lightswitch is a couple places to my left. I flick it on as I pass by, then unplug this ugly ass lamp on the nightstand.

A plan formulates quickly. A smile flirts with my lips, but I want to look determined on the cameras.

Maybe even resigned.

Wrapping the cord around the stem, I test out the base. The lamp is metal, and looks to be handmade.

Perfect.

I round the bed to the mirror, and rip off the sheet I put over it however many fucking days ago.

My eyes shift to the camera in the corner.

“Come on, Richard. Let’s play.”

Steadying my feet, I wind back and swing the lamp as hard as I can into the mirror.

It shatters, but all the pieces are intact.

I throw the lamp into the wall, the antique lodging itself into the drywall.

Then I reach up, and pull the mirror onto the ground.

Pieces of mirror titter out of the frame. I lift up the frame and set it next to the bed, and grab a medium sized piece.

It slices into my palm, but I don’t care. I hold it tighter.

Distantly, I hear the door to my suite burst open. Good. It took less time than I thought.

By the time I stand straight, my bedroom door flies open, and I’m face to face with my future victim.

Wyn

Rico’s eyes dart to my hand clutching the mirror shard. I squeeze it harder, making more blood ooze out of my palm.