Four Live Rounds

“Merry Christmas, Jav.”

“Feliz Navidad, Kalyn.”

The engines of the cruise ship hummed beneath them, a low, steady bass line, and Kalyn leaned over just enough so their elbows touched.

Javier said, “What are you doing?”

“This.” And she kissed him for the first time, for a long time.

When they came apart, she said, “But you know something?” The corners of her mouth and her tongue were tingling. “You still hurt my sister, you f**king psychopath.”

Javier smiled at this, but the smile faded and he stared in disbelief, watching Kalyn bend down, her knees grazing the pool of blood, and wrap her arms around his thighs.

Then she hoisted him up onto the railing, grabbed the handle of the knife she’d embedded in his gut, and pushed him into the Atlantic Ocean.