Chapter 49: PROCESS & EVIDENCE

She stared up at me, then at the bat in her hand. She hesitated, and for a moment, I could see the internal battle playing out on her face. Then, with an exaggerated scoff, she flung the bat to the side. It rolled noisily to the wall and stopped.

“I’m not going to use it,” she sneered.

Okay, I know she's stupid, but this is worse.

My eyes followed the bat’s movement, and a small, mocking chuckle escaped my lips. I raised my head to look at her, shaking it slightly. “You’re so easy, you know?”

Her reaction to my words was so fast I didn't see it coming. A stinging slap across my face that echoed around the empty dirty room and left my ears ringing.

Did it hurt? Of course.

I slowly turned back to her, the faintest smirk tugging at my lips despite the heat rising in my cheek. Heather was seething, her chest heaving with fury, her hands trembling at her sides.

“Easy? You stupid hoe!” she yelled, her voice cracking with rage.

Before she could finish whatever tirade she was about to unleash, I swung my arm and slapped her back, harder. Her head snapped to the side, her mouth parting in shock, but I didn’t stop there. She was strong, taekwondo class and months in jail built her better, so I grabbed her by her hair, yanked her toward the wall and slammed her head into it with a force that made her scream.

“You think you can fuck with just anybody?” I spat, slamming her head again, harder this time.

She cried out, her hands clawing at mine, but her struggles only fueled me. I slammed her head into the wall again. And again. And again. Her screams turned into sobs, her knees buckling as blood trickled down her forehead. When my arms began to ache from the effort, I finally let her go, letting her crumple to the floor like a broken doll.

She clutched her head, her bloodied hands trembling as she writhed on the floor, cursing and crying in pain.

I stared at her, my chest rising and falling with adrenaline. Then, without a word, I stepped past her and picked up the bat from the floor. Swinging it for a few seconds before walking back to her.

She moved when I stood over her. With shallow breathing, and pale face that was streaked with blood.

“Yes, Heather,” I said, finding an open spot. “You’re easy. And stupid. You think everything will always go your way, don’t you? That you can ruin people’s lives and walk away without consequence?”

Her weak moan was drowned out by the loud crack of the bat slamming into her stomach. She let out a pained wheeze, curling into herself as I swung again.

“You almost made me lose everything!” I shouted, my voice breaking as I brought the bat down again. “Do you know what that felt like? Do you know what you did?”

Tears blurred my vision.

“My business, Heather! The one thing I built myself! The one thing that made me something more than just my mother's daughter! You almost took that away from me!”

Another swing. She coughed, blood dripping from her mouth as she whimpered on the floor.

“You’ve ruined lives, Heather. You thrive on it! You ruin people, destroy them, and then play the victim when it suits you!” My voice cracked as I slammed the bat into her side one last time, leaving her gasping and twitching on the floor.

I dropped the bat, letting it clatter to the ground, and stood there, catching my breath. Her weak cries filled the room, mixing with the sound of my own ragged breathing.

Sniffling, I went to take the scissors from my bag and crouched beside her. Grabbing a fistful of her hair, the part I touched, I cut it off with quick and careful snips. Watching as she didn’t have the strength to fight back.

I shoved the severed hair into my bag, making sure every strand was accounted for, and wiped my hands on my handkerchief. Using my foot, I spread her trembling hand—the one she’d used to slap me—and carefully wiped it clean of my touch. Then, I did the same to her bloodied cheek.

Satisfied, I turned her over with my foot, wincing at the pool of blood beneath her head. Her phone peeked out of her back pocket. I snatched it, trying a few passwords before finally getting it unlocked with the one she used back when we were still “friends.”

“stupid,” I muttered, typing out a quick “help me” message to 911 with the location attached. I didn’t wait for a response before turning the off and shoving it into my bag.

Looking around, I made sure there was no evidence left behind. My handkerchief, her hair, the scissors—everything went into my bag. I wiped down the bat, the broken lock on the basement door and the other door before stepping outside.

The evening air hit my face, cooling the sweat on my brow as I looked around to make sure no one was in sight. The parking lot was quiet, with only a few scattered cars left. I walked briskly and quietly to my car, throwing my bag, the batband the phone into the backseat before climbing in.

As I drove to the gate, I quickly arranged my hair and wiped the sweat of my face before rolling down the window, yawning as the security guard approached with a flashlight.

“I thought the test ended hours ago,” he said, peering into the car. “What are you still doing here?”

“Fell asleep in my car,” I lied, yawning again for good measure.

The guard frowned. “Fell asleep? You couldn’t drive home first?”

I shot him a glare. “I was waiting for my sisters. Got a problem with that, Mister?”

He shook his head, stepping aside as another car honked impatiently behind mine. Thank goodness.

“Have a good night, Miss.”

“Thanks.”