Author's Note: This was originally posted on my LJ.
The border patrol stops the yellow X-terra on its way back to the good ol' US of A. "What's your name son?" some dude in a uniform asks me. "Josh," I answer and fish out an ID for the 22 year old Joshua Peters. It's not the best fake in the world, but I really don't think I'll be mistaken for an illegal. "Vehicle's registered under the name Echolls," the uniformed dude informs me. "Borrowed it," I reply shortly, I really want to get this over with and get back as fast as possible. "Have anything you shouldn't?" "No sir." "Move along."
I breathe a sigh of relief as I re-enter the homeland. I wasn't really worried about getting into trouble. After all, I wasn't doing anything wrong, at least nothing they could possibly know about, but I really didn't need to spend a lot of time at border patrol today. I push the gas pedal. I don't want to get pulled over but the key to this trip is speed, and not the fun kind. Actually, any kind of speed is fun, but what I'm doing definitely isn't. I need to get in, do the job, and get my ass back to TJ before my friends find anything odd about how long I've been gone.
I am a man on a mission. A mission that involves a certain manipulative bitch with big eyes and even bigger tits. A mission that I will never, ever speak of or even think about again. I don't know how I'm going to find her or how I'll do it but I am going to rid the world of one Miss Kane. Lilly. No, I can't think of her that way, can't think of her as someone I know. She is Miss Kane queen of sluts, bitches, whores, and pain. She destroys everything she touches and no one seems to care. They just let her. They love her even as she hurts them over and over again. Well, I care and I won't let that fucking bitch get away with it anymore. I don't care how nice her tits are.
Sometimes I think I'm the only one who can see through her, see her for what she really is. She's sick and she's twisted and she causes more misery than anyone else that I know. Everyone loves her but she doesn't give a damn. She doesn't love anyone. She doesn't give a shit about anyone else. I'm no saint but she doesn't even know the meaning of the word 'faithful'. I'm pretty sure she's been with, like, almost every guy in school and she isn't supposed to be available. Don't get me wrong, I don't have anything against fucking for the sake of fucking, or even fucking as many people as possible, but I would never string anyone along at the same time, playing with their head and letting them love me, while I slowly tear them to shreds.
She's a little too friendly with everyone really, including the help and her father's business associates. I saw her getting on the back of Weevil's bike once when I was stocking up in a run-down liquor store that doesn't even check ID. She must have thought no one would see her in that part of town, but I did. I was at the Camelot with a hooker the day she went too far. That was the day I saw her and Aaron leave the same motel room. She saw me. She smiled and winked and gave a little, "oops, busted!" with a smirk. She didn't even fucking care that she'd destroyed the world of the person who loves her most. That was when I finally knew, for sure, that the bitch has no soul.
I park a couple streets down from her house and as I approach I see his car, Aaron's. She's not alone. Shit. But I can hear arguing so I sneak around back and am just in time to hear Miss Kane queen of pain informing him that she's going to the tabloids. "You wouldn't do that to Logan," he pleads. "Fuck," she laughs, "don't expect me to believe you care about him." "No," Aaron admits, "but you do," and he strides off, confident that he's won, but I know better. Miss Kane cares for no one, with the possible exception of herself. And if my resolve had ever wavered it's back in a moment and all I can feel is anger and hate. I grab a rather heavy ashtray, and well, she never knew what hit her.
Five miles from the border I have to pull over and throw-up because the moment I saw what I'd done she was Lilly again. I've been driving almost twice the speed limit the whole way back, trying to get away from the blood. I make it through border patrol without any trouble and then get as drunk as possible between there and TJ. I stumble into our hotel room and see my friend drinking despondently by himself. "Hey, Dick," he says, "how was the stripper?"