Bryan Smith - The Killing Kind

Rob got to his hands and knees and stared at the small porcelain sink. It was mounted against the wall to the left. A rust-corroded pipe protruded from the bottom of the sink and fed through a hole in the wall. Roxie kicked him again, in the ass this time, and he yelped. He hurriedly crawled under the sink and stared up at her again as she knelt in front of him. The dark sunglasses were up over her forehead, nestled in the raven black hair. She looked sexier than ever, down there on her haunches, so close to him now, the thrust of her breasts against the tight T-shirt more evident than ever. He stared into her eyes and felt the shame come back. This beautiful face…at this angle…It was probably exactly the way those poor fucks in the Neon had seen her in the final, unsuspecting moments of their lives. In his mind he saw the bright splash of red against the Neon’s rear window. He started shaking again.

She smiled. “Scared?”

He swallowed. “Yeah.”

She stared at him silently a moment, head at an angle, lips pursed as she studied him. Then she smiled again and said, “Good. I like that.” She grabbed the open cuff and snapped it shut around the pipe. “You just hang out there while I get changed.” She laughed. “Though I guess you don’t have much choice, huh?”

Rob just stared at her.

Still smiling, she grabbed the tote bag and stood up. She turned away from him and leaned against the sink as she rummaged through the bag again. Rob stared at the backs of her legs and again tried not to think of…things. She hummed a tune as she dug through the bag, a jaunty melody he couldn’t place. It sounded wrong coming from the likes of her.

The bathroom was small. There was a single stall without a door and a single urinal next to it. Mounted on the wall next to the door was a coin-operated condom dispenser, mostly the novelty type that were no good for actual contraception. He’d purchased some once as a gag gift for his exgirlfriend. God. Charlene. What an amazing girl she’d been. That radiant smile. Her enthusiasm. What he’d give to see her now. Breaking up with her had been such a dick move. And for what? To sow some wild oats? How stupid was that? He’d already had the perfect girl. So what if Lindsey-his best friend and roommate-loathed her?

If I ever get out of here-

The tote bag dropped to the floor again and Roxie moved away from the sink. She stood in the center of the room and began the process of shimmying out of her goth-slut outfit. First the T-shirt came off over her head. Charlene’s image was vanquished in an instant. The black, frilly bra juxtaposed against the pale, smooth skin was a compelling sight to behold. The skirt came off next and she tossed it into the tote bag. She kicked her shoes off and leaned against the stall. She lifted one leg and began to peel off a striped sock. Slowly. Rob’s gaze went to her face. She was looking right at him. And it hit him. She was doing this as much for effect as necessity. She rolled the sock up and tossed it in the bag. Then she repeated the same slow process with the other sock. Rob kept staring at her. He knew he should look away and not allow her to manipulate him this way, at least muster some small show of respect for the people she’d killed.

But he just couldn’t do it.

She tossed the other sock in the bag. “See anything you like?”

She laughed.

And Rob yelped as something struck the other side of the bathroom door three times. A muffled voice called out: “Hurry up in there! I gotta piss like a Russian racehorse.”

Roxie looked Rob in the eye. She didn’t need to say anything, her intense expression communicating a command as clear as any verbal directive. “Just gimme a sec to finish up in here. I’m going as fast as I can. I’m having…uh…feminine issues.”

A snort from the other side of the door. “Feminine issues, my ass. Fucking whore. I saw you go in there with that guy. It’s against the law to have sex in public bathrooms, did you know that? Now get out of there and let me take a piss or I call the cops.”

Roxie went to the door and drew it partially open. “Look, I’m taking care of some business in here. This guy’s paying me good money to go off on his ass with some kinky shit.” She opened the door wider, and a man Rob remembered as the dumpy dude from the gas pumps peeked in at him.

The man grinned and looked at Roxie. “No shit?”

Roxie smiled some more and posed seductively. “No shit. You’d be surprised at some of the twisted shit these bondage freaks are into. He’s even paying me to verbally abuse him.” Roxie glanced at Rob. “Isn’t that right, you miserable piece of shit?”

Rob swallowed thickly and managed a weak nod.

The man laughed and licked his lips. “Takes all kinds, I guess. Look, I don’t care what you people are up to, but I really do need to take a piss. Like, right now.”

Roxie leaned forward slightly, thrusting her breasts at him. He looked, of course. “So come in and take a fucking piss.” She laughed softly. “Maybe you’d like to join in.”

The guy stared at her tits. He stroked his chin. You could see he really wanted a piece of this action. “I…well, that sounds fucking awesome, but…I’m kind of…cash poor at the moment.”

“Oh, that’s okay.”

Roxie grabbed him by a wrist and tugged him into the bathroom. She closed the door and locked it again. She wrapped her arms around the man’s neck and writhed against him, eliciting a tortured moan. “Baby, you’re so fucking sexy. I feel like giving you a freebie.”

The man’s face turned red. “Holy shit. Are you for real?”

She giggled. “You’ve never met anybody more real than me, baby.”

She broke the embrace and pushed him into the stall, maneuvering him into a sitting position on the toilet. Rob’s heart began to pound. He didn’t know what Roxie had in mind, but it couldn’t be anything good. And he was pretty certain she wasn’t about to fuck this guy. Curiosity made him push away from the wall and scoot out as far as his cuffed hand would allow. He was able to get a pretty good view of Roxie standing over the guy.

The man stared up at her in rapt amazement and adoration, apparently having forgotten that he needed to piss like a Russian racehorse. Whatever that meant. Roxie leaned over him, bracing her hands on the toilet tank lid as she dangled her breasts in his face. She giggled again. “Close your eyes, baby, and I’ll give you a big surprise.”

The man’s whole body shuddered. “Holy shit. It’s my lucky day.”

Rob grimaced.

No, dude, it really isn’t.

The man closed his eyes.

And Rob saw Roxie’s fingers curl tight around the edges of the tank lid. She lifted the lid off the tank and held it high over her head. The man’s eyes came open and he stared up at her in confused astonishment. A guttural, animal sound ripped out of Roxie’s throat as she slammed the lid down on top of the man’s head. The heavy wedge of white porcelain went up again and came down again. Over and over. Until Rob heard a sound that reminded him of an eggshell cracking. But it didn’t end then. She kept hitting him with the thing. He had no concept of how long it went on. He vomited on the floor, heaving violently for several minutes before retreating to his previous position under the sink. He closed his eyes and tried to will the world away. He felt clammy and sick. Some time passed and he became aware that the sounds of violence had ended.

He opened his eyes and saw Roxie staring down at him, face impassive. She was dressed in tight jeans, white sneakers, and a plain blue T-shirt.

“It’s time to go.”

Rob sniffled. “O-o-o-o-”

“Shut up.”

Rob closed his mouth.

Roxie uncuffed him and they departed the scene of yet another murder. Within moments they were back on the interstate. The road unfurled endlessly toward the hazy horizon. But Rob no longer saw the open road as a place of charm and limitless possibilities. The path ahead of him was a devil’s highway to nothing but doom and damnation.