There's somebody standing in the corner of my room. The shadows play with the darkness but I'm not sure who it is. I look into the black trying to find clues as to her identity. Was it Heather? Perhaps Julie. The dunken stupor of waking in the middle of the night was never good for my senses.
The previous hours were engrossed in crime, passion and recharge. Our time moving towards Ethan's death came forth at lightning speed and before he knew it, the small stainless dagger had plummeted into his chest. You could call it an accident (and we did to the police) but everyone knew he was a deadbeat who needed to be 'dealt with'.
Street justice had no rules or standards set by others, just a code to cover your ass and make sure those close to you were taken care of. Ethan's move onto our turf wasn't welcome and when he spit in our faces after warning him, his fate had been sealed.
The rush of the night's events transformed into an adrenaline of the flesh. Heather and Julie moved themselves in quickly, vying for position into first place. I sat back and watched in satisfaction as they moved their bodies in a way unbecoming of a woman. It didn't matter. I won in the end and had both. A good day for all.