“It's a shame you can't drive for the race, McClaire, that was some excellent driving!” the Crew chief said as McClaire brought the car to a stop. However Stella already knew what was coming judging by the smirk on her face.
“If you give me a piece of shit like that again, you can tear my phone number out of your codex!” McClaire yelled, as she leapt out of the car, furious. She continued,
“You give Danny the car like this, and he'll put it in the wall! What the hell were you thinking?”
“We trimmed it out to go fast, and fast you went. That should put us mid field without having to run this car again.”
“Seriously, so all you literally wanted was one qualifying session? Not me tuning the car or anything else?” McClaire hissed, but as the Crew Chief pulled out a check out of his pocket, the truth became clear. Star giggled to herself,
“Oh she's pissed…” McClaire ripped the check out of the chew chief's hands before flipping him off.
“Go fuck yourself, and give Danny my condolences when he ends up in the hospital!” And with that, McClaire’s day driving an indycar was over. Their girls packed their stuff back into the Mustang, I got back in the trunk and away we went. First stop was to find a pay phone.
“Danny, it's McClaire. You're in, but that car is an utter piece of shit. I'm not even sure if all the bolts were tight, so be very careful!” McClaire barked into the phone.
“It's almost like it scared you McClaire?” Stella teased mockingly, but McClaire shot her a glare to shut up. However, whatever was said on the phone just seemed to make McClaire madder.
“So that's why he said that… Yeah he said, too bad you can't stay… Ugh… Yeah, thanks,” She hung up the phone and growled again in frustration.
“McLaren is going to hell in a handbasket without Bruce. I never realized they were playing it so fast and loose.”
“History changes a little each time right? Maybe they're just being dicks to you this time?” Star said, and that made me raise an eyebrow. Especially when McClaire put her fingers on her lips and told her to hush.
“You're probably right,” McClaire admitted with a sigh.
“Come on, let's cash this check before they try and void it.”
The rest of the evening was spent relaxing and sulking so it seemed. We went back to LA and found a hotel that had a suite with a hot tub. Unfortunately, at least for me, this was the point McClaire trusted me enough to give me my own room, but I wasn't complaining. This was the first time I had laid on a bed in years, so I'll take that over the lack of boobies. We did meet up again a few hours later for dinner, again in a place I had never been to before, a steakhouse.
“Uh, are you sure you're cool with me getting whatever? This stuff is kinda expensive?”
“We've been cruel enough to you, get whatever you want.” McClaire said nonchalantly, like a $20 dollar steak was pocket change. Hell, it probably was for her, but still, I felt somewhat bad. At least until that steak touched my lips, and then all the guilt melted away. But, there was an elephant in the room that needed to be addressed eventually.
“So, you made it California Roadkill. What now?” Star asked. It was clear by the tone of her voice she wasn't meaning that in a genuine sort of way. She was clearly tired of towing me around and buying me food on occasion.
“Honestly, I don't know. I haven't really thought that far ahead yet.”
“Well, you need to, because we only have one more stop on this little trip,” Star said between bites of her sirloin.
“Oh, haha, I guess I can't stay in your trunk forever, can I?”
“We're going to the Bonneville Salt Flats by Salt Lake City. Bobby Issac is going to try to set a land speed record next weekend in a Dodge Daytona, and I kinda want to watch,” McClaire explained.
“I see, so you're saying you won't be coming back to California?” I asked and she shook her head.
“Jack and co will be picking us up there, so if you want to stay in California, I wouldn't go,” McClaire said bluntly.
“And if you don't want to live at all, I can help you with that!” Star giggled but McClaire elbowed her.
“Seriously Star?”
“You didn't almost get shot by this guy!”
“Yeah, about that…” I muttered. This was as good a time as any to apologize, so I cleared my throat before continuing.
“Back in Oklahoma, when you said I was just sorry I got caught. You were right. I owe you a genuine apology Stella Star, and I want you to know I appreciate you not killing me, and letting me tag along. You and McClaire both have changed my life, and I'll forever be in your debt,” I told her and McClaire both, and Star almost seemed shocked. No, not shocked, maybe offended is the right word? Honestly, I'm not sure. Her expression was so… mixed, filled with conflicting emotions, that I don't think there is a word to describe it. What I can tell you for certain is, she quickly redirected those emotions into anger, anger and hatred.
“Don't you forget it, Roadkill,” she hissed.
“You still can't forgive him, can you? Even when he apologizes directly to you, you still can't forgive him?” McClaire asked solemnly.
“I can't give my targets a second chance,” Star hissed.
“Why? Because you feel guilty for all those you killed before, the ones you didn't or couldn't give a second chance?” Star's head jerked, seemingly shocked, like properly shocked, McClaire could sympathize. She smiled at her and continued.
“I told you we have more in common than you allow yourself to realize. You aren't the only person who's killed people they regret. People they could have, or should have spared. I was like you once, refusing to let myself humanize them. Refusing to give them a second chance, and sometimes I couldn't. Circumstances wouldn't allow it, the universe is a cruel and unforgiving place…” she said, pausing to take a sip of her coke.
“That's why I decided to be forgiving, Star. Maturing is realizing you can put the past aside for a better future. I should have killed you, I wanted to kill you, for causing the paradox, for kidnapping Max, and ultimately stealing my triple crown away from me, but I didn't. I didn't, because I saw myself in you, and thus I learned how to forgive you.”
“Shut the hell up McClaire…” Stella hissed, obviously training all her emotions into boiling anger. You could see it in her eyes, the pits of hell opening up and the bloodlust rising to the surface. McClaire looked right into her eyes and smiled.
“I know, you know how to forgive, because after all, you respect me enough to forgive me right? For ruining your life, for trapping you in the past. So why can't you do the same for him?” She asked, pointing at me.
“Why would a lion respect an insect?” Star asked.
“Step on a scorpion barefoot and find out. Maybe you'll get lucky and you'll sneak up on it, or find a dopey one, and you'll squish it like any other bug. But one day, you'll step on one with its stinger up, and you'll wish you were dead. Case in point, he just about killed you but by the end he was crying and begging for his life right? Maybe you should forgive him for challenging you and realizing his mistake, instead of trying to crush him anyway, and getting stung in the foot for your trouble.” McClaire’s analogy made perfect sense, and you could Star compute it in her brain, the gears turning. And second later, you could see the hate and anger drain from her eyes and she sat back in her chair and sighed.
“I hate you.” She muttered.
“I know!” McClaire chirped, returning to her food. She smiled at me and winked, and I just sort of laughed as one of many thoughts bounced around in my mind. McClaire has killed people too? It was kind of a hard thing to imagine, yet simultaneously not hard at all. As an immortal, God-like being, and especially with people out to kill her, it made sense that she would have to defend herself once and a while. It was a heavy load to even try and understand what that might feel like.
I never wanted to kill anybody, I never did, I swear…
My own words echoed in my mind, and my face darkened just a little bit. I wonder if McClaire and Star both may have said those same words at some point?
“Fine.” Stella finally said after a long period of silence, clearly deep in thought. She looked away, as if ashamed of what she was about to say, but then she looked at me. Her face was fierce, but not violent, not angry.
“Until you pulled that gun on me, you were just any other person to me. Your life ended that day, as far as I'm concerned, but let's pretend that didn't happen? That sound fair?” Star said.
“More than fair. Thank you Star.” I replied, but she just huffed and then got up to walk away.
“Well… that's progress at least. Thank you.” McClaire said to me after she had walked away, but I shook my head.
“That was all you, and if I'm honest, your speech made quite the effect on me too.” I admitted, swallowing hard.
“McClaire, what is it like to kill someone?” Now McClaire looked down, she looked sad, guilty.
“People like scorpions can be more dangerous than they realize. Beyond someone's desire to hurt someone else, sometimes it's just happenstance, fate, or the will of the universe itself that causes your paths and swords to cross. Honestly, you get used to it eventually, I step on every bug, let alone every scorpion, I see!” She says with a laugh before tailing off again, her face darling into a serious glare, down at her glass of coke.
“That doesn't mean it's right, especially when it's not a bug, but a human being. Sometimes people force you to go through them, and you have to, to save countless others. It sucks, but sometimes it's inevitable. And sometimes, very rarely, it's personal. Star made a life for herself by making everything personal, every job, every contract, every kill, reflected directly on her status as an assassin. Now its my job to help her deprogram herself from that mindset of being a human exterminator. After all, if you are an exterminator, then you don't care about what happens to the bugs, do you?”
“Is it even possible to deprogram someone like that? That almost sounds like brainwashing?” I asked and McClaire shrugged.
“In one lifetime? I don't know. It took me several before I learned that revenge causes more problems than it solves, at least most of the time.”
“How old are you?”
“21.” McClaire replied instantly with a smirk. She giggled and continued,
“Never ask a girl her age, especially not me, but, since we're telling truths… Truth is, I don't know. I lost count a long time ago.”
“Did you see the dinosaurs or Jesus?” I asked half sarcastically, and McClaire laughed out loud.
“Yeah, I raced him a few times around the Circus Maximus but they took that bit out of the Bible… No, I'm just joking. That's not how my curse works I'm afraid, and I can't tell you anymore without making you one of those people I regret killing.” McClaire warned.
“Fair enough. I appreciate the honesty though.” I said.
“Anytime. So, make your mind up if you're going with us. Regardless, I'll cover your hotel room. If you decide to stay in California, I'll book it out for three months to give you a chance to get on your feet.”
“Holy crap, thank you McClaire!”
“Don't mention it.” she said, pulling a stack of bills out of her pocket, $1000 in cash. She put it on the table as a tip and said.
“It's only money.”
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