Folie à Deux by Cynthia A. Rodriguez

Author:Cynthia A. Rodriguez [Rodriguez, Cynthia A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-02-14T06:00:00+00:00

30

Abel

I didn’t see the guy jump me until it was too late. Now the fucker is wrestling me to the ground because my defenses were lowered.

The kid who used to get his ass kicked by bullies takes a moment to catch up. I’ve somehow ended up under this guy, taking punches. I reach up and shove my hand into his Adam’s apple which makes him clutch at his neck. Just as I’m about to push him off me, I see a fist come into view.

Rose, with the key between her knuckles, hits him in the cheek. Now the guy’s face is fucking leaking and I’m trying to get him off me before I’m covered in the shit. Rose grabs him by his greasy looking hair and proceeds to punch him over and over until I’m up from under him and pull her away by her waist.

“You’re gonna kill him,” I ground out as she fights me.

She goes limp in my arms and as I look down, I see we’re both wearing this guy’s blood.

He’s not moving, and I’m scared as shit to check his pulse. He might not be as lucky as the last guy Rose attacked.

“I was aiming to kill him,” Rose tells me, her words full of determination even if she’s out of breath.

He looks homeless, from his dirty clothes to the stench coming off his body.

I turn her around and look her in the eye.

Mishegas. I hear the word my ma would say like a whisper in my ear.

A couple blinks and I’m focused on Rose again. “I need you to go upstairs and lock the door. I’ll be back. Only open the door for me.” I glance at the guy lying on the pavement, his hair covering his eyes.

“How will I know it’s you?” she asks, not bothering to wipe away the blood on her skin. Like she loves the shit there, wearing it proudly like some fucked up kind of trophy.

I just need her to move. “Go, basherte.”

This feels surreal as I kiss her forehead and she walks up the stairs. It’s then that I notice she’s still only in my t-shirt and her underwear.

Still, when she turns to look at me before shutting the door, she looks like my Rose. Like the same girl I saved. The one who saved me.

It trips me the fuck out as I grab this guy by his ankles and drag him toward the dumpster. I check his pulse and its faint but he’s still alive. I grab his arm and fireman lift him into the dumpster. It wasn’t like this asshole wasn’t asking for a beating.

But I bet he wasn’t expecting to get his ass beat by Rose.

Being homeless was a fight to stay alive. Mother Nature, other people, it wasn’t easy. But never in my homelessness, had I ever tried to break into someone’s car or attack someone for a fucking payday.

This car is too nice for this area. We’re attracting too much attention.

Time to go.

Walking back to the room, I feel less alone than I’d like to.

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