Carpet

Ashes on my carpet. Cigarette ashes on my carpet. That’s what I remember about the night. They sat like pale gray snowflakes nestled in the tiny curls of my brand new carpet. I looked at the man holding the thin white cylinder: his lips were spread wide across protruding teeth, and his mouth appeared to be permanently open. His black eyes peered into mine with a look of moderate curiosity. I looked back at the carpet and my breath caught in my throat as more gray snowflakes settled onto it.

It was a brand fucking new carpet.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I spat at the man.

“Ronnie,” Carly hissed. Her fingers curled around mine; that’s something she almost never does. I remained on my loveseat, perched on its edge.

The three men exchanged looks. The one with the cigarette, the one sitting on my grandmother’s couch, stuck the cancer stick back in his teeth.

“There’s no need to panic now,” one of the men said. He had shoes on and with them he stood on my carpet. They were probably filthy, caked with dust and grime from outside. The fingers of my left hand clenched tighter around Carly’s. The fingers of my right clenched tighter around the gun.

“If you could please lower your weapon sir…”

“Tell the asshole with the shit-stick to get the fuck off my carpet.”

“Damnit Ronnie,” Carly growled.

“And if you’re going to stand in here on my motherfucking carpet you’re going to have to take off your motherfucking shoes.”

The men glanced at each other.

“Is that too difficult of a request?” I screamed. I pulled the trigger and shot the man with the grimy shoes twice in the foot. “Do it or I’ll blow all your motherfucking heads off!”

The man screamed and fell, clutching his injured foot. His friend rushed to his side, falling on the floor next to him.

The man with the cigarette did not move.

“Did you not understand something? Was I not clear enough asshole?”

“You got blood on your carpet, friend.”

“What?”

“I said you got blood on your carpet. You’re so concerned with the ashes, the dirt on his shoes. Now you got blood on your carpet.”

I think I saw Lindsey look up at that moment but I can’t be sure because I was launched into a state of panic.

“No.” I pushed off from the sofa, yanking my hand from Carly’s. I shoved the injured man aside and rolled him until he was lying on the wood floor of my kitchen. I rushed to the cabinet that held all my cleaning supplies.

My white carpet. My brand new motherfucking white carpet.

I was going to kill Cadwell.