LKH-AB: Ronnie's Revenge, part I: Anita Title: Ronnie's Revenge, part I: Anita Fandom: LKH: AB Spoilers: Very light, but up to Cerulean Sins lkh_lashouts challenge: Kill Her Darlings Disclaimers: LKH owns the original characters and the world. I own this story.
Okay. I was stupid. I admit it. When Ronnie said she wanted to apologize for being a bitch and invited me on a girls-only weekend, I thought she'd finally gotten over her jealousy.
She'd gotten a gun instead. I didn't know which was worse—that she was pressing a gun into my forehead or that she'd drugged my coffee. If you're going to kill me, go ahead and give it your best shot—or stab, or whatever else it may be. But leave my coffee out of it.
She'd tied me to the stripper's pole in Guilty Pleasures, which was temporarily closed for renovations. When I looked up into one of the stage lights, I saw one of Nathaniel's long hairs stuck to the pole. 'Ronnie,' I asked, voice dull and slow, 'what have you done?' I remembered my training for dealing with the crazies: don't be loud, don't make any sudden movements....
'Nothing yet.' Her smile was on the dark side of madness as she stepped back slightly, relieving the pressure on my head. 'Why hack off the branches? Kill the root and the rest will wither.' She swept some overturned chairs off a table to the floor and sat on the table's edge. 'It's all your fault, Anita.'
'That you're a psychotic raving bitch? How do you figure that?' It certainly wasn't a response I'd learned in my training, but I didn't play victim well.
'Because we were friends. We were friends for years. And then a bunch of pretty boys with more cock than backbone waltz into your life and all of a sudden, there's no room for me. What happened to balance, Anita? You can have your fuckbuddies and still keep your friends too. Friends should always be more important than sex, Anita. Always. I was there for you before they were, and I would have been around after.'
'Would?' I could try the keep the crazy person talking approach, but Ronnie was too far gone, utterly unreasonable. I loved Micah. And Nathaniel. And Jean-Claude. And Asher and Richard and Jason. They were my friends too, friends and more, and I wouldn't kick them out of my heart and her bed just to soothe her ego.
'I'm not in the habit of being friends with corpses, Anita. That's your guilty pleasure.'
When I saw her raise the gun again, I tried to duck as much as I could, but it was no use. I taught her how to aim, after all, so she knew what she was doing. I didn't even realize she'd shot until I heard the bullet meet the pole with a wet ping. Blood spilling over my breasts in roiling red waves, I slumped, nearly dislocating my wrists since my arms were bearing too much of my weight. At least I didn't scream. She didn't deserve my screams.
'Nathaniel's next,' she informed me jovially. 'And I'll kill him right here, in your puddle of blood. Maybe I'll even keep your body here. I know you said he likes you wet; I wonder how much he'd want you now, like this.'
I tried to retort, but all I blurted out was blood.
'You know that saying—Keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer"? Oh, don't correct me, Anita—you're so pretentious that way.' Ronnie faded in and out of my vision. What kind of bullet had she used? I had the blood of werewolves and wereleopards in me; I was a Nimir-Ra who bore vampire marks. I should have been healing, but my blood was flooding the stage. She leaned close and pressed the barrel against my temple. 'That's because you want your enemies to be in the way when your friends attack.'
A bang, so loud it sounded fake. A flare of light like the sundering of the sun. Then silence and darkness, so much worse in the wake of their extreme opposites. For the first time in years, there was no one to lick my wounds, no one to feed me power. Just me and my element, death, finally made one.