“And we just sit back and wait,” said Cane, dropping onto the park bench across from the apartment complex. He lit up a cigarette and inhaled deeply. “Not long now then it’s all over.”
“It better be. You promised me that bitch would suffer. So far, I ain’t seeing nothing. And Rachel’s up there laughing at me!” spat Daryl, pacing back and forth, glancing up at the top floor. His gut churned just mentioning her name.
“Trust me. Have I ever let you down before? She hurt you Little Brother so she hurt me. And I ain’t havin’ that. Now sit down before you draw attention to yourself.”
Daryl slouched next to Cane but his agitation was clear to see; his foot tapping constantly as he bit his already stubby nails. “I love her,” he muttered. “I wish I didn’t.”
“That’s why she has to go,” Cane replied with a sly smile.
They sat in silence, anonymous to passersby hurrying home from work, their eyes not leaving her balcony window when they saw the curtains flutter, shadows in the light. Excitement flooded through Cane as he saw Rachel struggle against a large, strong man. Her scream was stifled momentarily by a hand to her throat before she was thrown from the balcony.
“Fancy a kebab?” Cane asked, standing up, turning his back on the scene as a crowd swarmed. He’d seen it all before.
But he wasn’t going to tell Daryl that.
Written for Thursday Threads hosted by Siobhan Muir over at The Weird, the wild and the Wicked