Page 3 of Her Sloth

So I swallow down whatever my body wanted to feel and speed my car out of the city onto the highway.

I speed it as recklessly as I can, because I need the silence in my mind. I need the silence that comes when there is nothing between me and death but a bit of metal.

I am daring you, God.

1

CASS

PLAYLIST: DIRTY HANDS (GONE MAD) – KENDRA DANTES

It is late at night, and the city across the Hudson River shimmers in its thousands of lights as I get onto the roof of the harbor tower in Weehawken.

“Yooo, C,” says Nikki, who has apparently been waiting for me, “You’re late.”

“Lots of traffic,” I say, hugging the tall woman with her long red hair up in a tight ponytail, as always. Traffic is a synonym for cops flying low; they really are a pest at the moment.

“Yeah, meh,” she says. “Something’s up.”

“Bet,” I say as we both walk around the solar panels and sit onto the railing. A railing that means sure death if we slip, but offers the most epic view of Manhattan. And what do we care? We live as recklessly as it gets on a daily basis.

“So, what’s up?” asks Nikki. Nikki has become a part of the family, my baby brother’s girl. Way too good for him in my opinion, but they are an unbeatable team.

“I need you for a job,” I say. “It’s not a small thing, and it’s most certainly the riskiest we have done.”

“Listening,” she says, grinning. The moment I said ‘riskiest’, her eyes lit up.

“This one’s not the typical bang-boom-bang,” I say. “It’s proper planning and precise execution.”

“Whatever,” she says. “Spit it out.”

“I am going after them,” I say without looking at her but fixing my eyes on the illuminated skyline.

“It’s a suicide mission,” says Nikki, and maybe it is, but maybe it’s not.

“I won’t march into their headquarters and pull a gun,” I say.

“She’s dead,” says Nikki. “She doesn’t care. Her father was murdered. Dead people don’t give a fuck.”

“I need to make things right,” I say, the hairs on my arms standing up because the thought of injustice triggers such a reaction in me.

“It won’t change anything,” Nikki says with a softer voice.

“It will change everything,” I say harshly, because I am not allowing anyone to soften me.

Nikki doesn’t immediately answer. Instead, she slides onto the roof with her feet, turns, and lets herself fall back while holding onto the railing—dangling her head back into the depth of the height.

“You’re crazy,” I say.

“It’s freedom,” she says, chuckling, and removing one hand.

I get wet hands from watching it, and I shake my head.

Nikki is a different build. I speed. She climbs. My brother, Jackson, fights. Well, me too. There’s nothing like a good fight. We’re all dealing with the past, one better than the other.

“You’re crazy for going after a dead man,” Nikki says when she gets back up.

“It’s his legacy; ruining it will make him forgotten.”