Page 31 of Kill Feed

I slam the bike down on the driveway, and it yells out as it collides with the concrete. My helmet flies one way the moment my feet touch the surface. I storm to the door and knock with every ounce of frustration I have.

Amani opens it, her bright smile fading the instant she sees my face.

“Adrian… what’s-” I cut her off with a glare sharp enough to make her flinch.

“Where’s Lucas?” I demand.

“In the kitchen,” she replies, her voice trembling slightly. “Why?” I don’t answer, and instead, I push past her. “LUCAS!” My voice bounces through the open-plan house, sharp and full of heat.

He emerges from behind the kitchen island, mouth half full, eyebrows rising. “Hey… you got the job?”

I don’t think as I near him. I ball my fist and swing, hitting him square in the jaw. His lip splits instantly, blood blooming like a dark flower as his head recoils violently to the side and his body follows, legs almost giving out under him. He grabs the countertop just in time to stop the fall.

“ADRIAN!” Amani screams, her voice cracking as she steps forward at the sudden, abrupt violence. Lucas staggers back, clutching his face.

Before he can fully recover, I shove him against the kitchen cabinets. The impact rattles the wood, and a glass tumbles from the surface, shattering into a million glittering shards as it connects with the floor.

My fist flies again. This time my knuckles land on his cheekbone.

I don’t give him time to act. I don’t give him time to think, and that’s clear, seeing as his eyes search everywhere for his hands to grab onto. I’m about to fuck up the rest of his face when hands grip my forearm, pulling me away, and I let her. I don’t want to accidentally hurt Amani in the process; she’s done nothing. Unlike this motherfucker who's curled up in a ball on the floor.

“What the fuck is going on? You need to calm down!” she yells, eyes turning glossy. She lets go of my arm and rushes to Lucas’s side, aiding him. The idiot’s gasping, clutching his chest, looking absolutely terrified. As he fucking should.

I grit my teeth before saying, “I won’t calm down. Not after what he’s done,” yet my voice remains calm, devoid of any hysteria.

Amani swallows, fear flickering in her eyes, but she stands firm. “Lucas,” she says, voice steady as she helps him up, “what did you do?”

He shifts half aside, stepping on the broken glass, the shards crunching under the soles of his sneakers.

“I… I don’t know what he’s talking about,” he mutters, trying to sound confused through the cracking of his voice.

I start to laugh. A low, bitter sound escapes me. I take a slow, deliberate step back, feeling the tension crackle in the air like thunder. “Don’t play dumb now, asshole. You know exactly what you’ve done.”

The room goes uncomfortably silent, at least for them. He’s biting his tongue, looking everywhere except at me like he always does when he knows he has fucked up.

“Oh, really, Lucas?” I spit, voice sharp and biting. “Brilliant fucking move. You sneak behind my back, send out my life story to some company I didn’t want to apply to, acting like you’ve done fuck-all.”

Lucas takes a step back, pinned against the wooden slab of the counter. He winces at my words, hands half-raised in some pitiful attempt at defense.

“Lucas, you did what?” Amani cuts him off, seething through her teeth in absolute disbelief. She turns to fully face the fucker.

The moment with him is short-lived as Amani turns back to face me, however refuses to come any closer. “Let’s all just calm down and talk about this,” she pleads, eyes still flicking between my face and hands.

But I’m not fucking done with him.

“What else did you write in there, huh? Did you go into detail…” I claim, venom dripping from my tongue as I slam one hand down onto the kitchen island, making them both jump. “Did you tell them how my father strangled the life out of my mother until her body went numb and color left her face? Or how he took a rifle to my six-year-old sister’s forehead as she cried and pleaded next to my mother’s lifeless body right before he put a bullet between her eyes?”

I inch closer, letting my hand slide across the granite surface, collecting the clutter before swiping it off, sending a bowl, Lucas’s phone, and a half-empty glass to the floor. Amani’s tough exterior crumbles as she shuffles backwards until her shoulder bumps into Lucas’s chest.

“Did you tell them how my father pulled out a hunting knife, putting its blade to my throat?” I say, composed and eyes dark.

Amani and Lucas know about my childhood. I trusted both with the information when we became friends. Yet I never told them the extent of it until now.

“So, what did you think you were doing when you wrote my past in a fucking portfolio? Who gave you that much authority over me?”

Lucas stumbles again, nearly tripping over a shard of glass as he moves to the opposite side of the kitchen. “I thought it would… make you stand out. I’m sorry, Adrian, I—”

“Stand out?!” I say with a humorless laugh. “Well, I sure as hell fucking did.”