Farfarello knew he shouldn't have asked Rebecca about her vision. But Crawford had no right to play the protective brother, especially not after he had demanded that Farfarello kill Rebecca. Farfarello thought back to the day he asked her to kill him so he wouldn't have to kill her.
Farfarello let himself into Rebecca's apartment through her casually never-locked door. Since she worked the night shift, she wouldn't be up until noon. He glanced at the clock--10:30. He had an hour and a half to kill his best friend and leave. He leaned against the wall and cried. He wasn't sure when he slid to the floor, but he opened his eye when a pair of strong but feminine arms wrapped around him. Rebecca was there, awake long before she should have been. He put his arms around her from within her embrace and tried not to cry. "Rebecca, just kill me. If you don't, I'll get killed anyway. Use my ice pick, call it self-defense."
"Bradley sent you to kill me," she stated, eerily calm. It was not a question, or a guess. She was simply stating what was, to her, an obvious fact.
To say that her statement stunned Farfarello would be akin to saying that he disliked God. He had never referred to Crawford, directly or indirectly, in front of Rebecca before. And if he had forgotten a momentary mention of him, it would have been by his surname, Crawford, not Bradley. And she had no way of knowing that he had ordered her death.
Somewhere in his thinking, Rebecca had started rocking Farfarello back and forth and was shushing him. "Shhh, Farfie-kun. You're not going to die today. Shhhh, who would torment God if you died? Shh, no extra-crispy Farfie. I'm going to speak with Bradley, and this will all be ok," she murmured.
When Farfarello had calmed, she wrapped her arms around his left arm. It was something she had discovered long ago infuriated him because it was on his blind side. That meant for him to steal a look at her, he would need to turn his head, which wasn't very discreet. She half-dragged him out the door, and into the parking lot. She hopped onto the back of her motorcycle and tossed Farfarello the helmet. He looked at the helmet disapprovingly and tossed it back to her. She caught it and dumped it into a bag as Farfarello got on.
Twenty minutes of bad directions later, the Harley stopped in front of the house shared by the members of Schwarz. Farfarello hopped off to escort Rebecca in. She had already stormed to the door by the time he was on the sidewalk.
The door flew open, startling Crawford. He did not, however, visibly jump. He merely lifted his eyes over the edge of the Wall Street Journal. What met his eyes was a thousand times more frightening than an avenging harpy flying towards him intent upon his death. It was his elder sister, hands fisted at her sides. Her eyes blazed fire as she stalked towards him.
Sorry to end the chapter in the middle of a flashback, but that's where it needed to be. I'm also sorry that I have such a weak resolve. I asked for six reviews, and I'm posting this on only one. I'm sure no readers mind. However, this chapter is tiny. A bit of coaxing shoul make future chapters longer. ZaiJian!
Farfarello let himself into Rebecca's apartment through her casually never-locked door. Since she worked the night shift, she wouldn't be up until noon. He glanced at the clock--10:30. He had an hour and a half to kill his best friend and leave. He leaned against the wall and cried. He wasn't sure when he slid to the floor, but he opened his eye when a pair of strong but feminine arms wrapped around him. Rebecca was there, awake long before she should have been. He put his arms around her from within her embrace and tried not to cry. "Rebecca, just kill me. If you don't, I'll get killed anyway. Use my ice pick, call it self-defense."
"Bradley sent you to kill me," she stated, eerily calm. It was not a question, or a guess. She was simply stating what was, to her, an obvious fact.
To say that her statement stunned Farfarello would be akin to saying that he disliked God. He had never referred to Crawford, directly or indirectly, in front of Rebecca before. And if he had forgotten a momentary mention of him, it would have been by his surname, Crawford, not Bradley. And she had no way of knowing that he had ordered her death.
Somewhere in his thinking, Rebecca had started rocking Farfarello back and forth and was shushing him. "Shhh, Farfie-kun. You're not going to die today. Shhhh, who would torment God if you died? Shh, no extra-crispy Farfie. I'm going to speak with Bradley, and this will all be ok," she murmured.
When Farfarello had calmed, she wrapped her arms around his left arm. It was something she had discovered long ago infuriated him because it was on his blind side. That meant for him to steal a look at her, he would need to turn his head, which wasn't very discreet. She half-dragged him out the door, and into the parking lot. She hopped onto the back of her motorcycle and tossed Farfarello the helmet. He looked at the helmet disapprovingly and tossed it back to her. She caught it and dumped it into a bag as Farfarello got on.
Twenty minutes of bad directions later, the Harley stopped in front of the house shared by the members of Schwarz. Farfarello hopped off to escort Rebecca in. She had already stormed to the door by the time he was on the sidewalk.
The door flew open, startling Crawford. He did not, however, visibly jump. He merely lifted his eyes over the edge of the Wall Street Journal. What met his eyes was a thousand times more frightening than an avenging harpy flying towards him intent upon his death. It was his elder sister, hands fisted at her sides. Her eyes blazed fire as she stalked towards him.
Sorry to end the chapter in the middle of a flashback, but that's where it needed to be. I'm also sorry that I have such a weak resolve. I asked for six reviews, and I'm posting this on only one. I'm sure no readers mind. However, this chapter is tiny. A bit of coaxing shoul make future chapters longer. ZaiJian!