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THIRTY-FOUR

HALLOWEEN LL

RAINING BLOOD—JERIS JOHNSON

CALISTA

T he unfamiliar but tantalizing vibrations of the steering wheel pulse through my hands, giving me a rush that heightens my senses and makes me feel more alive than I did when I first slid into Ash’s car. He sits beside me, his large, tattooed hand resting firmly on my thigh, a protective grip that anchors me as the rumble of cars lining the street courses through my body.

I glance to the left, flashing a defiant smirk at Killian in the adjacent car, fully aware that Dom is strapped into his car on my right, most likely casting a scowl in my direction. But I shrug off their gaze, pretending that I don’t give a fuck. But I fucking do.

However, in the lifestyle I lead, I can’t afford to let emotions cloud my judgement. Over time, I’ve learned to be cold and ruthless, a skill I’ve honed to perfection.

Yet I’ll never voice the truth that lies deep within: which is that I fucking do care deeply—I do give a fuck. But once feelings interfere with my mission, everything is at risk of unraveling, and I’m so close to completion. I can’t risk a slip-up now.

But fuck, I do love Dom, Ash, and Killian. I love them with every inch of my being, even the broken parts. I’ve always loved them, even when they fucking broke me when they shattered the foundation of love, trust, and loyalty that once united us. If there’s even a sliver of hope left that we can mend what’s been broken and find true happiness again when this is all over, that’s the vision I’ll cling to.

We promised each other at twelve that we would grow old together, and no matter what happens, I intend to honor that vow, hoping deeply that they all share the same dream.

“Are you sure you’re ready to race tonight?” Ash’s seductive voice cuts through the static in my head, snapping my focus to him.

“I’m sure, Ash.” I smile, nodding through it to hopefully make him understand that I’m more than fucking ready.

“They don’t play out there on them streets,” he warns cautiously, a painful look flickering in his eyes. “They’re fucking ruthless, determined, and they drive fucking dirty most times.”

I scoff, throwing my head back in a fit of evil laughter. “Have you met me? I guarantee I’m even more ruthless than they are.”

He smiles, leaning his upper body over the center console, closing the gap between us. “Show them what you’re made of, Little Psycho. I’ll be right here—by your side—the entire way.”

He finally kisses me, capturing my lips in a gentle, passionate kiss, much different from the needy, desperate usual kisses, and I fucking love it. I love the sweet side of him. I whimper as he pulls away, gliding my tongue across my tingling lips, wanting to desperately savor his taste.

“I’m nowhere near finished with you; don’t worry,” he says. “But right now you need to focus on the race. There’s only one lap, but it’s a long one, and three checkpoints you have to hit before you can race the strip to the finish line. Luckily, those streets don’t have as many curves or tricky areas, so it shouldn’t be too bad. Just focus on the road in front of you; constantly check your rear view and the side mirrors to keep an eye on the other so they don’t try to sneak up on you and run you off the road or even pit you, cus it’s happened before.” He continues dishing out all of the ins and outs of the race, as well as tips, secrets, and everything else he thinks I might need to know.

Glancing quickly and unsuspecting in my rearview to adjust it, I spot Five walking to the front of the line, a half-naked chick hanging off his arm, and as I stare at her, feeling a twang of jealousy pinch my heart, the more familiar she looks, but I can’t fucking place her for the life of me—but Ash sure as fuck does.

“No fucking way,” he gasps, narrowing his eyes at the two of them as they take their places in the middle of the road, just slightly beyond the starting line.

“What is it?” I turn to face him, then turn back to see what he’s looking at, feeling slightly shocked myself.

“That’s fucking Delilah,” he seethes, his lip twitching as anger and rage flood through his veins, getting him all worked up. “That’s the chick that Killian has some off and on thing with.”

As soon as he mentions her name and Killian’s, memories of being in the tunnel spying on them come rushing back to me, and I begin to grow furious. Five isn’t mine; even though we lived together and fucked like animals, he still isn’t mine.

“Why are they together?” I decide to ask, not knowing if I’ll even get an answer.

“She’s a fucking whore, and I bet she’s only hanging all over him because Kill told her to fuck off and has been refusing to see her.”

I reach over to hold Ash’s hand, not paying Five or Delilah anymore attention. Looking over at Ash, I can tell there’s something more to the story behind Delilah; I can see it in his eyes. The look that makes it obvious that he’s keeping the truth buried deep inside. But before I can ask him about it, engines start revving in sync, slightly jolting forward as Five raises his hand in the air, clutching a gun with it pointed toward the pitch-black sky.

I place one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shifter. Keeping my eyes fixed ahead, I breathe calmly, watching as Delilah suddenly drops the flag in her hand and Five fires a single shot into thin air, a rush of fast cars peeling out and speeding past them, me included.

The roar of engines fills my ears, drowning out everything but the adrenaline coursing through my veins. My heart races, each beat echoing the thrill that’s inside me. I shift my focus back to the road, my fingers tightening around the steering wheel.

As we speed through the first straightaway, the landscape becomes a blur of light and shadow, the world outside melting away like the past I’m desperate to escape.

The cold night air rushes through the open windows, mixing with the scent of gasoline. I glance at the speedometer, my pulse quickening as I push the car harder, feeling the tires grip the pavement. I can’t help but shoot a glance at the rearview, where I spot a pair of headlights tailing me closely; it’s Killian, his determined gaze locked on mine, focused and fierce.

I smirk, reveling in the competition. Gritting my teeth, I push the pedal down further, urging Ash’s car into a seamless sync of power and precision. The engine growls, and I accelerate into the first checkpoint marked by a neon-lit intersection. I barely glance at the side streets as we race by; I’ve memorized the route backward and forward, even in the dark, and my mind is a steel trap ready to execute my plan flawlessly.

“Be careful but prepared for anything to happen,” Ash warns, sneaking his hand up my skirt while he keeps an eye on my face.

From the corners of my eyes, I catch the glint of chrome, the taillights of the cars beside me flaring in waning as they attempt to cut me off. Ash’s rules echo in my mind: watch the mirrors; keep an eye out for anything that might try to take you down.

A car on my left veers dangerously close as I maneuver around it, my instincts kicking into high gear. I slam on the breaks for a split second, shifting gears quickly. The car screams in protest, but I roar back, the tires screeching and gripping the asphalt just in time. I gain enough ground to squeeze ahead; a quick glance at Killian shows him still hot on my tail. My gut churns with feelings I refuse to explore.

I power past the second checkpoint, and as I navigate through a narrow turn, my heart leaps as I see Delilah’s smirk through my windshield as she continues to hang all over Five. The way she clings to him, I can feel the heat rise in my veins. I’m not going to let her get to me. Whatever game they’re playing, I refuse to be a pawn in it.

“Calista, stay focused!” Ash yells, reminding me of the present as he rubs the pads of his fingers over my already soaked panties, distracting me in the best way.

Full speed ahead, I lock my gaze forward, concentrating on the road, my knuckles whitening as I grip the wheel tighter. The finish line is within reach, but still, there’s another racer gunning for the front. A shadowy figure blurs past, their car emblazoned with grim insignia—the same one I’ve seen too many times before. My gut twists; it’s not just about winning anymore.

This isn’t just a race; it’s a battle to reclaim my life, a means to confront my past through the very act of defiance that fuels my heartbeat. I grip the wheel with relentless determination. If there’s a chance to confront the shadows, here and now, I will fucking seize it.

“Don’t hold back,” Ash whispers, dipping his fingers beneath the thin band of my thong, sliding them inside of me, and suddenly, I’m engulfed in desire, fury, and determination, plunging deeper into the game.

With a flick of my wrist, I pull the gear shift, feeling the car surge forward as I relinquish the restraints holding me back and relish in the pleasure from Ash’s fingers dipping in and out of my pussy.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” I beg, pushing the car to its limits.

I race ahead, invading the final stretch, weaving through rivals as I approach the last checkpoint. I catch a glimpse of Delilah stumbling in Five’s wake, her world colliding with mine in ways I never expected. She isn’t competing; she’s here for something else.

I tap the brakes hard, swerving to cut off another car as I make my final move toward the finish line. The roar of cheering from the crowd melds into the rhythm of my heartbeat, becoming a hypnotic cadence and a reality I refuse to shy away from. And then, with a surge of fierce intention and Ash still pounding his fingers into me, I blast across the finish line. The engine’s roar and the screech of tires blend into one triumphant symphony. Time stands still, and beneath the sky, we become myths and legends, living through the asphalt.

As I glide to a halt, breathless and exhilarated, I twist in my seat to see Ash’s proud smile—an anchoring presence amidst the chaos.

* * *

“So it’s the mayor we’re offing tonight? Is that what you’re saying?” Dom asks, shocked, but not too much, especially knowing how much of a pedophile he really is.

“That’s right, Kyle Benjamin is the next name on my list,” I inform them as we slip out of their apartment, masks in hand, and head for their bikes that are parked in the small garage across from their building.

Standing in front of three matte black sports bikes, my hands itch and my veins tingle in anticipation. Wasting no time, I pull my mask on, hiding my identity from the world. The guys follow my lead and put on their masks before mounting their bikes and starting them up. Deciding to ride with Killian, I straddle the back of his bike, wrapping my arms tightly around his waist.

The cold wind whips through my hair as we zip down the streets, becoming one with the open road. The ride to Kyle’s isn’t long, and before I know it, the bikes are being parked a couple of blocks down, just to avoid any suspicion once we complete the job.

“Are you guys ready?” I ask when we get to the same balcony that I was just watching the mayor from earlier in the night.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Killian admits, tightly grasping his pistol down by his side.

“Yeah, me too,” Dom agrees, hands shoved in his pockets, one of them grasping the handle of his sharpened knife.

I turn to Ash, waiting for him to answer. He turns to me, lifts his mask, and grins. “Yeah, lets get this shit over with.” He puts his mask back down and inches closer behind me as I head for the slightly ajar sliding door, sneaking inside.

Wanting to get in and out of here, I quickly change course in my head, deciding on a quick, fiery death instead of dragging it out with my usual forms of torture. Calling the shots, I turn to Killian and nod my head, urging him closer to the bed where the mayor is sound asleep.

“Kill, baby, put a bullet in his cock. That shit deserves to get blown off for all the disturbing things he did to me with it.” I cringe, cracking my knuckles.

Stepping forward with his gun aimed between Kyle’s legs, he switches off the safety and fires without resistance, shocking me.

“Dominic, slit his throat so he can’t scream,” I demand, sounding cold, as the mayor shoots up in bed, fear in his eyes as he comes face to face with the four masked strangers around his bed.

He screams once from the pain shooting through his groin, but before he can let out another, Dom shoves him back down and makes a swift, deep cut across his throat, slicing him open almost from ear to ear like it was the easiest thing in the world for him.

“Good boys,” I praise them both, pulling out a small bottle of lighter fluid from my backpack, along with a box of matches and my backup Zippo.

I find the Ziploc baggie with the thumb drive inside and countless disturbing pictures and place it where the cops will easily see it. And then I stand by the edge of the bed, admiring the river of crimson pouring out of his neck and the way his body shakes as he goes into shock.

I lean forward, putting my mouth as close to his ear as I can without taking off my mask. “You’re getting off easy tonight, Kyle, and that’s only because I have other things on my mind.”

I twist off the cap on the lighter fluid and generously dump the contents all over his body, drenching him until every drop is poured out. Striking a match, I drop the flamed stick onto his body, watching bright orange flames ignite immediately. But it isn’t enough for me. I light another and another, finally flicking my zippo and putting the flame on his soaked sheets, knowing the fire will spread to his drenched body quicker.

And then I stand back with the guys while we watch the corrupted mayor burn alive, the smell of melting flesh permeating the air around us. The guys gag, but I’m used to it, smiling as his entire body is engulfed and the bright flames cast a glow across the walls.

The crackling flames wrap around Kyle’s body like a serpent, and I can’t help feeling the twisted sense of satisfaction from the image before me. He always said he was untouchable—some kind of god among men—but here he is, reduced to nothing more than a charred husk. The inferno dances wildly, illuminating out masked disguises, and for a moment, I can see reflections of our unrestrained glee in Killian’s and Dom’s eyes.

“This is just the beginning,” I whisper, as if the darkness itself were a witness to our vendetta

I step back with Ash, who's watching the door. With every second that passes, the adrenaline coursing through my veins is intoxicating, igniting the darkness within me as Kyle’s gargled screams—now muffled by his slit throat and the crackling blaze—echo in my mind.

“Let’s go,” I finally urge, tearing my gaze from the burning body.

There’s a part of me that wants to stay, to witness the complete destruction of everything that Kyle represented, but we have a plan. The last thing I need is for some overly nosy neighbor to call the cops on us for the inferno that’s blazing behind us.

The four of us glide silently through the residence, our feet barely making a sound as we navigate the plush carpet and gleaming marble floors. The opulence of Kyle’s home mocks his demeaning character, a sharp reminder of the power he held over so many while his hands were stained with the filth of others innocence that he brutally stole from them—and from me.

As we slip out the back door onto the dark balcony, the sirens start wailing in the distance. Our time is limited, so we leap onto the bikes, the low hum of machinery drowning out the chaos behind us. As we peel away from the scene, adrenaline surges through my body—a potent cocktail of fear, triumph, and exhilaration. Tonight we are hunters, killers, and vigilantes, and we all desperately crave the chase.