52 / The Loss

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"That wasn't as easy as we thought, was it?"

Jazz was hurrying, with a slight bend at her hips leaning her into her path. Her arms were by her side and, every so often, she'd rub her stomach.

"No, not even close," Cassidy agreed. "He beat the shit out of us, like we were... we were...."

"Shit?"

"Yeah!"

He hadn't missed his sister's movements, but was waiting for her to say something. She would, right? If she was in more pain, or if there was a certain pain located in her abdomen, she would tell him, wouldn't she?

When they were home, he'd ask her.

"He's a nutter," he said. "Fucking lost it."

"Yeah. I suppose I didn't help that."

"Your big mouth just showed us what he was like earlier than planned, that's all. You did us a favour."

But at what cost?

"I guess. Now we know what we're dealing with."

"You still want to kill him?"

"Now, more than ever."

What had they become to speak of murder so calmly? Had death become just another word, though it would never smell sweet? Horror films and thrilling television shows where bullets were thrown about like confetti at a wedding had numbed them to the real impact of taking a life. The devastating mass shootings of innocents happening at far too regular intervals brought the true meaning suddenly home, but it was fast forgotten. For many, it was on the television. It happened in another town. Another country. It was sad, but separate.

And the latest binge worthy streaming show had just been released. With bullets and monsters and brave children fighting in ashen worlds. Let's just watch an episode or six of that, eh?

Cassidy entered his home first and was overjoyed to be greeted by Bobby's bounding welcome.

"Hello, boy," he said. "It's so good to see you!"

The dog still being there wasn't a done deal. He'd been dead, so shouldn't be alive. He could have been some sort of ghost, just one that could be felt and who had a rapid little heartbeat racing in his chest. He could have been temporary.

But he wasn't.

Thank you, Amy.

"We should go see Amy," Jazz said. "Tell her what happened."

"I know. We will. Let's just sit down for a minute and recover."

"Are you OK?"

"I'm fine, apart from a splitting headache. I'm not thinking about me."

"Me? I'm fine. Don't worry about it."

"Snotty, you're not... ty. I've seen the way you're holding yourself. You're limping too. He hurt you."

"Damn right he did. He was a fucking animal."

"Yeah, he was. And you're pregnant."

"So?"

"Don't be stupid about it. He was being nasty. What if he's hurt the baby?"

"I don't think we need to worry about that," she breathed.

"Why?"

"There's no 'if'."

"What? You mean...?"

Cass dropped to his knees and held Jazz's hands. He looked up at her, but she avoided his gaze.

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