She Said Too Much

Tricia Jones was walking. She suddenly took a right into a dark, foul-smelling alley, and waited. A man in his mid-twenties turned the corner on the other side, a scarf hiding half of his face. She couldn't blame him; it was about twenty-nine degrees outside.

"I'm giving you a deal tonight, Trish. I'll give you the stuff for $39.00."

Tricia took the money out of her pocket, fingers shaking as she counted out the amount. She had six dollars left. Her child support check didn't pay much. 

He took the money, beady eyes staring at Tricia. He handed her a little bag of white powder. "You know...I was thinking, Trish. I've liked you for a while. I hook you up all the time... What do you say we, uh, get down?"

"Just get out of here, Scott. I paid you, now leave."

"Oh, alright. Can't blame a guy for trying," He said sheepishly. He then turned on his heel and walked away, his thin, lanky figure disappearing into the night.

Tricia went back to her apartment three or four blocks away. Once inside, with the door locked, she emptied some of the bag on her coffee table. She took one of her ex-husband's old business cards out of her shabby old wallet and proceeded to form the powder into lines.

There was a sudden knock on her door. She got up from the couch and frantically searched the room for something to hide the cocaine with. She ended up giving up, as the knocking became more incessant. Upon opening the door, Tricia was surprised to find a hand on her throat, pushing her into the wall behind her. She gasped in surprise. 

Waterman's hand was dirty and calloused and felt grimy on her neck. She then noticed Jack Jones as he closed the door. Her eyes followed his as he judged her home. He caught sight of the cocaine on the coffee table. He scoffed. 

"So this is how you raise our daughter? In this dump of an apartment, and you sneaking out to buy coke? God, you are a pathetic excuse of a human being," Jack said, looking at her with pure disdain.

"You're not much better. You went running to this freak," she retorted, and the grip on her neck tightened. 

"Where is our daughter, anyway?" He asked pointedly.

"Safe."

"She is never safe, Tricia," Waterman said, smiling. "In fact I just visited her not too long ago."

"If you hurt her I'll..."

"You'll what, Tricia? I do believe I have you pinned against a wall. What you intend to do is not physically possible."

"Want to bet?" She hissed. And, with lightning speed, she shoved the heel of her foot between his legs. 

"GODDAMN IT!" Shouted Waterman, falling to the ground and letting go of Tricia's neck. She fell to the floor and started crawling into the living room, coughing. "Get her!" He directed Jack. 

Jack bent down and caught Tricia's waist. He flipped her over, slapped her hard across the face, and pinned her hands behind her back. A bruise began to show itself on her cheek.

Waterman got up of the floor and knelt back down in front of her. He punched her hard in the jaw, splitting her lip open. Tricia tasted blood.  

He stood up and kicked her in her side, inciting a deep groan from Tricia's throat. He probably broke a rib or two, and tears came to her eyes. She looked up at her ex-husband, her eyes pleading with him.

"Please, Jack," she whispered fiercely. "You used to love me."

"Shut up, you stupid b***h. Do you really think he's going to help you? Just save us the cowardly begging," Waterman interjected.

Tricia ignored him. "Jack, listen to me. What about our daughter? Don't you still love her? You don't have to do this.  If not for my sake, then at the very least, for hers."

Waterman punched her again, his goal to break her nose. He succeeded. Her nose started to bleed and she began to cry. "Now, shut up before I make sure you can't talk at all."

"Our daughter is a bloodsucker. You forced her into vampirism. Therefore, she will be treated as such," Jack said bitterly. 

"Don't hurt her, Jack. Please. Do whatever you want to me, but she's got her whole life ahead of her. That's the only thing I ask."

"You don't get to negotiate here, Tricia. I make the decisions. You're going to die, and so is your little bloodsucker of a daughter. Build a bridge, and get over it," Waterman said. 

"Jack, don't you want to know what happened to our baby? I was pregnant when you left, and less than twenty-four hours later, I wasn't," Tricia said, as the tears came freely. Waterman punch her again, and her cheek began to swell. There wasn't any hope for her...unless...a sudden thought struck Tricia. Kendra could help her, save her, even. Before she could even finish the thought, Waterman took a knife from his back pocket and plunged it into Tricia's torso.

"KENDRA!" Tricia yelled, just as the knife broke the skin. "Kendra, Kendra.." she whispered.The knife plunged into her again. Again, again, again. Three, four, five, six times. Tricia Jones was dead. 

Jack Jones and Hank Waterman left the shady apartment complex with blood on their hands. For Jack, it was his first kill. For Hank, it could have been his fiftieth. No one really knew how many people Waterman had killed. 

Ten minutes after the culprits left, Kendra found her best friend's body.