Jay comes through a week later. It’s seven days later than I wanted personally but unsurprisingly he’s a very hard man to pin point. I spend two days tailing him from a distance, watching his every move and noting any patterns in daily activities. For a wanted man, he’s incredibly blasé about being in the public eye. He looks no different to before it happened. Maybe he’s trying to get caught. Maybe the guilt is eating him alive and he wants to pay for his crimes. I snort at the thought. He has no conscience, there’s no way he’d feel guilty. It’s 5pm when I see him enter the block of flats. I get out of my car and wait on the sidewalk, pretending to use my phone. Fifteen minutes later, my opportunity arrives. As a woman leaves, I run up the path calling for her to hold the door. I smile and thank her as I duck into building. I take the stairs two at a time heading for the sixth floor. I could have taken the elevator but the adrenalin is surging through me. By the time I reach his door, I am buzzed for a fight. I take a deep breath, knock on his door and step out of the way of the peephole. I stand with my back against the wall and listen. He opens the door partially and peers out. Without a second thought, I spin around the doorframe and barge into the door with such force that it allows me access and as an added bonus, knocks him back causing him to stumble. I slam the door shut behind me and before he has time to regain his equilibrium, I grab the collar of his shirt and swing him against the wall. I pin his neck with my arm and interlock my legs with his so he can’t move. I push all my weight against him as he gasps in shock from my assault. He’s getting off lightly, the bastard.
Disclaimer: Depictions and description of suicidal thoughts, suicidal intentions and mental health. Readers discretion advised. Please do not continue if you are triggered by the mentioned above.