There comes a time in life where you look into the eyes of the Devil and you realize one thing. You are no better than what you fear the most.
“Hello Dominic. So glad you could come,” nervous, Gypsy squeaked. Was September 5th the day she lost it all? The moment that Dominic walked into the room, she knew a part of her was already dead. The best parts of the little girl who lost her way and ended up walking a one-way path to the other side of the rainbow was gone.
“Where the fuck is the book? The real fucking book? NOW!” Dominic growled. As pissed as he was at the young girl, just her presence alone turned him on. Even when she was unconscious, she was a hell of a fuck. Something about that girl drove him crazy.
Shaking her head, every part of her body trembling with fear, Gypsy looked him dead in the face and gave up her life. “I gave it away to someone who knows what to do with it. If you kill me, believe me, the wrath of hell will rain on your head in ways you never knew possible,” warned Gypsy. She gave the book to the one person she knew would never hold judgement over her, and wouldn’t allow others to take it. Sure, he could sell that book for millions, but she knew in her heart that he wouldn’t.
Before she could stop him, Dominic reached out, his hand wrapped tight around her slender neck, lifting the young girl from her feet. As she dangled, her face turning red; he gave his last warning. “Give me the fucking book or there will be nothing left. I’ll skin you alive and drop your living carcass off in the dessert for the vulture to shit out. I will not offer you this again. Give me the fucking book,” he said, lowering her to the tips of her toes.
“Why did you do this to me? Why did you cheat on your fucking wife? Why, Dominic. Before you fucking kill me, tell me why a man does it. Why does he fucking kill the heart of the one he claims to love?” crying, Gypsy needed to know. The woman in the bathroom needed to hear what her husband really was.
Laughing, he held tight to her neck, shrugging, “Why not? My wife is a useless bitch who married me for money. She can’t fuck for shit, doesn’t clean, and honestly, she just isn’t you.”
The last words he said hit Gypsy in the chest with the force of a freight train. If not for his hold on her neck, she would already be on the floor. How can a man speak like that about the woman he took vows with? Opening her mouth, Gypsy stopped suddenly as the bathroom door swung open and Mercy Paloma stood in the doorway with tears running down her face.
“What the fuck is she doing here? Mercy, what the fuck are you doing?” Dominic scrambled for his words. It was too late. He confessed the truth and, for the first time, his wife knew what Gypsy said was not a lie.
“Put the whore down, Dominic. Put her down right fucking now. You don’t love me? I gave you a fucking child,” she cried. Sporadic cries flooding the room as the woman picked up anything not bolted down and threw it at her husband. Luckily for him, she was a poor aim.
Dropping the girl, Dominic reached into the band of his pant, pulling out his 9mm loaded handgun. Turning the aim on his wife, he pulled the trigger, knocking the woman off her feet. Taking a direct hit to the chest, there was no time to talk. She was dead before the first words left her lips. “Because I don’t. What can I say? You were a shitty fuck,” he laughed.
“Oh my god, you killed her,” Gypsy cried, moving to help the woman.
As the next shit rang out, the young blond hit the floor, her right shoulder taking the bullet. It was the second time she had been shot, and for a minute she prayed it would be her last.
“Please don’t,” she cried.
Without hesitation, Dominic lifted her to the bed, looking down with laughter as he ripped her shirt wide open. “Wow, look at that. I fucking gave you all of that,” laughing harder at the bruises on her tiny frame.
Tears streaked her face, but it was the pain that consumed her thoughts. Her shoulder burning as though he had struck her with a burning stick. Gypsy knew this was it. She was dead and this man, this animal, wasn’t worthy of taking her life. Screaming for help, the words stuck in the back of her throat. Dominic Paloma was going to rape and finish her, but if she was going to die, there was no way in hell she was going to be remembered as a victim.
“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?” Dominic screamed. His hand moving from the bed to his groan, a delayed reaction of pain forced him to fall back, landing on the floor. Cut from pelvis to abdomen, the girl he craved had split him so badly that his femoral artery cut.
“Help me,” she cried, her hand holding the switchblade that was a childhood gift from her grandfather. Once again, the weapon used in the way he intended. It saved the life of his precocious granddaughter. Eyes closed, her breathing shallow, Gypsy smiled for the first time in a very long while.
“Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, oh how I missed you,” spoke Grandpa Joe.