Page 78 of Crow
CHAPTER13
He pacedthe confines of his small apartment like a caged beast. With teeth clenched and hands shoved into the pockets of his black jeans, the man’s eyes fixed on the disappearing streaks of sunlight on the hardwood floor as the afternoon waned and the night began to fall. As darkness crept into the apartment, his pulse raced and his head pounded as rage built up inside him. Glancing over at the window, he saw the dim glow of stars through the glass.
The familiar ring of his phone shattered the silence and stopped him in his tracks. Exhaling slowly, the man walked over to the coffee table and picked up the cell.
“What?” he said hoarsely.
“Am I bothering you?”
The woman’s high-pitched voice grated on his nerves.
“You told me to call you, remember?”
“I’m busy,” he replied.
“I thought we had a date tonight.”
White-hot anger shot through him, and, for a moment, he was paralyzed by it.
“Well don’t we?”
“No.”
“You don’t sound so good. Are you sick or something?”
“No.”
He heard the clink of her bracelets over the phone. How he hated that sound.
“So, can you spare some money?”
That was all the bitch ever wanted —money. The rage grew, and he coughed violently as if that would push it away into the recesses of his mind.
“It’s just that I’m broke and I was counting on us getting together tonight. You made the date, remember?”
That damn high-pitched voice made his temples throb.
“Aren’t you gonna say nothing? I hear you breathing.”
The sharp wail of a car horn rang in his ears as panic and fury rushed through his body.
“What’s going on?” she asked. “Why are you breathing like that? Are you having a heart attack or something?”
Gripping the phone in his large hand, he said, “No. I have to go.” Then he threw down the phone and began pacing again.
The phone rang on and off for the next half hour, but the man ignored it while he kept walking around the dark apartment. After a long while, he stopped by the window and looked out at the street. Sweat poured down his face and the back of his neck, but he didn’t wipe it away; he kept staring at the figures who moved in and out of the shadows as they dug through dumpsters of the apartment buildings across the road. Disgust weaved through him.
Get fuckin’ jobs, you losers!
Rubbing a hand over his face, he ignored the gnawing in his stomach as he stood sentry at the window, watching and listening to the sounds of two homeless men rummaging through the trash for scrapes. After having exhausted that bin, one of the men went on to the next while the other one shuffled away and disappeared between the buildings.
“Fuckin’ scum.” The man’s edgy voice echoed in the stillness of the room.
But instead of turning away, he stood transfixed at the familiar scene unfolding before him. Contempt spread through him as muscles tightened and his heart beat faster.
The minutes turned into hours, as he stood sentry at the window, ignoring the gnawing hunger in his stomach. When the deep tones of a clock from a neighboring church tower rang out three times, the man stepped away from the window, a look of purpose etched on his face. It was hunting time.
After slipping on a black, oversized hoodie, he picked up the car keys and made his way down the stairway to the garage.
