His Little Killer

I'm down with the case of the sniffles and surrounded by tissues

***

I feel the side of my ear to see if it's bleeding yet. I pull my finger back and see that there isn't any of the red liquid.

Weird.

You would think with the way Dylan and Kade are singing so fucking loud, I would be deaf right now. Being deaf would be a blessing.

Felt it in my hips so I dipped back to my bag of tricks.

Then I flipped for a tip, make me wanna do tricks for him

Lick him like a lollipop should be licked,

Kade looked at me and motioned at his junk. I flipped him off and crossed my arms. This was a serious matter and they were fucking singing to Salt and Peppa, you've got to be kidding.

Dylan sang the chorus and thrummed his thumbs on the steering wheel. Thank God, he decided to drive this death trap instead of Mr Johnny One Nut on the couch across from me.

S and the P wanna kick with me, cool

But I'm wicked, G, hit skins but never quickly

I hit the skins for the hell of it, just for the yell I get

Mmm mmm mmm, for the smell of it

They want my bod, here's the hot rod

Twelve inches to a yard and have ya soundin' like a retard

Big 'Twan Love-Her, six-two, wanna hit you

So what you wanna do? What you wanna do?

I gazed out the window at the black sky. We had been driving for 10 hours so far. The last welcoming state sign I saw was Arizona. I read on my phone before it died that it would take about 40 hours.

Dylan started singing really loud. He had really changed his whole personality since I first met him. I thought he was a scared little coward, but he was anything but. I cant count the amount of times he had tried to hit on me. Or course I shut that shit down. 

It went as follows:

Him: "Damn baby, how did you get so beautiful?"

Me: "Must've taken your share"

Him: "Oh, come on, you know you want me."

Me: "Yeah, I want you to leave"

And so on and so on. He finally gave up when I raised my gun and put it under his chin. He cowered away and finally took Kade's job at driving Becky.

My phone was dead and since we were in a RV from the 1900's, there wasn't a charging port that actually worked.

All I could do now was sit with my leg crossed over the other and listen to Kade and Dylan sing. Though when they started to sing along to Feeling Myself, I had to do something. I ripped the cord from the speaker that was connected to Kade's phone.

If we have to listen to music, make sure its at least good, I take Kade's phone and search one of my favorites. Lonely Avenue by Ray Charles.

"Really?"

"What?" I snap and sit back on the couch. "Just because I'm a killer doesn't mean I have to listen to that crap you were listening to."

"Okay, Nicki and Queen B are not crap and I wasn't judging you." Kade said and lit another cigarette. I pulled it out from his hand before he could take a drag on it.