“Punk kid.” She snorts, pushing herself away from the table with a dramatic huff.
Bitch. Burn her.
“Now that one I might not argue with you about.” I chuckle to myself, popping a piece of bacon into my mouth and chewing it slowly while I watch her approach Phoenix for the fifth time.
This time with the same attitude she just gave me, she leans on her table, scowling at her, and I can feel my blood pressure rise.
“Do you want to die tonight, Barbara?” I mock quietly as I eat my meat first, then take a bite of the French toast smothered in butter and syrup. “I can make it happen.”
There’s my boy!
“Shut up. I’m getting sick of you.”
You’d miss me if I were gone.
“I highly doubt that.” I say, covering my mouth with my hand so an elderly couple walking towards their table hand in hand doesn’t see me talking to myself.
I mean even though I am crazy, I don’t need to blast it to the world, at least not just yet. I always pictured myself going out in a blaze of glory, with my head on fire and me streaking through the streets on my bike. I would prefer that, rather than wasting away in some mental hospital because I talked to myself in diners.
“Anything else?” Barbara sighs as she trudges up to my table, her eyebrows still pinched, the bill already in her hand waving it at me like it’s some kind of fucking flag.
“Yeah, Barbara…” I say, reaching up and touching her name tag with the tip of my index finger. “More coffee, and less attitude. Thanks.”
With a dramatic wink, I hand her my cup and shoo her away with the same hand motions Phoenix used earlier. It pisses her off, yet she storms away to fill it like the good little servant she’s supposed to be.
Thank you Barbara.
Even my alter ego is mocking her, and it makes me laugh, a full on deep, chest hurting laugh that draws more attention to me than me talking to myself could. I cover my face with the menu, and laugh hysterically, listening to the voice in my head roar as well. For once we’re on the same page, and his idea of burning her, just for the way she behaves is sounding better and better with each rude word from her stupid mouth. Besides, she’s not only rude to me, a biker, which is understandable, but to my angel, and that’s unacceptable.
I’m the only one allowed to be rude to her huh?
I have to wait for the few people around me to stop looking in my direction, and double check that Phoenix’s back is still to me before I slide out of my booth, throwing a handful of cash down on the Formica table, not even bothering to count it, knowing that it’s way more than a generous tip on top of the bill. I mean, I should tip her before she dies right?
Make sure there’s enough to cover the cleanup costs.
“Good one.” I say to myself, causing me to pause.
I’m talking to my voice, the man who drives me crazy, and now here I am planning a murder with him like he’s my buddy.
“I really have lost my fucking mind.”
And you love it.
Chapter
Nineteen
The back door to the diner is at the end of a narrow hall just beyond my booth. I pass the tiny little door for the only bathroom, and quietly slip outside to the parking lot, and into the cover of the dark night. I have no idea when her shift is over, or if her car is parked back here, but by the smell of her, I can almost guarantee she’ll be sneaking back here for a smoke at some point.
The lot is shrouded in darkness, with only a single streetlamp on the corner that throws more shadows than it does light. There are two dumpsters near the back door, one for trash and the other one for recycles. Next to the trash one, there’s a metal barrel with the lid barely attached to it.
A flick of my fingers opens the lid, and I’m pleasantly surprised to find that it’s full of used cooking oil. I can smell the acrid scent of it, all burnt and full of nasty food chunks from lord knows how many uses in the restaurant’s fryers.
Ooohhh, look what we have here. Nice.
“I know right. It’s like the universe wants her to go out in a massive blaze.” I answer him, dragging the tip of my gloved finger on the surface of the oil, making it ripple.
I’m mesmerized by the way the ring of tiny waves around my finger move slowly from how viscous the substance is. It’ll coat her nicely, and the dumpster, oh my God, what a good way to contain the fire so no one innocent gets hurt. I can already feel the excitement brewing up inside of me, just like it used to do weeks ago before I started my spiral into whatever the fuck I’ve become.
