My Monster

by Ellie Jean

  “Coward. Can’t fight a small girl? Have to use a needle.” Tanner wouldn’t have to do that…

  My eyes begin to feel heavy and my head is hurting like nothing I’ve ever experienced.

  My body becomes limp. I try to hold my head with my hands, but I am unable. They’re paralyzed.

  I’m trapped in my designer red gown, which is now looser around my legs, possibly due to it being torn. Some goon is dragging me and now my heels are going to be ruined on this rough dirt track. Fiddlesticks…

  If I wake up from this nightmare, someone will pay for this travesty.

  My fist needed to connect with that fucker’s face. He walked away with my girl like I’m invisible. As though her silky smooth skin, her delicate blonde hair, and drenched pussy doesn’t belong to me.

  “T…You need to let her go for the night.” Slate lights a joint and leans against the wall of the brick building Caden now calls home. He hands it to me, and I take a long drag. My blood is still pumping.

  “Would you let Emerald go, for a night, with a guy?”

  Slate smirks and lights a cigarette, blowing the smoke toward me. “Fuck no.”

  “Didn’t think so. If he wasn’t Emerald’s brother, he would be in a body bag by now.” I drag another breath in, smoke swirling around the night air.

  I hand it to Ocean. “You know they’ve been friends forever, T.”

  “Yeah, but he’s touched what’s mine.” My hand flies into the rough surface, crunching my knuckles.

  “But is she yours?”

  I launch.

  Ocean slams into the wall with my hand around his throat. “What kind of fucking question is that?” My other fist slams into the wall beside his head. Slate pulls me off him and Ocean heaves in and out.

  “One you need to fucking answer,” Slate clips. “Claim your woman so she knows without a doubt who the hell she belongs to.”

  Ocean rubs his neck and grins at me.

  Idiot…

  “I haven’t stuck my cock into any other pussy for months now. I’ve told her she belongs to me.” Ocean hands me back the blunt and I breathe in hard. “She’s not fucking listening to a word I say.”

  Both of the pricks laugh.

  “What are you assholes doing in the dark out here?” Caden lifts his beer to his mouth and drinks.

  “Fuck, you look happy, man.” I clasp his shoulder and pull him in for a bro hug. “Lace is one hell of a catch. She sorts your ass out easily.”

  “Speaking of which, where is your lady? And why is Emerald out there stirring up trouble with Lace’s brothers?”

  “Long story, man.” Ocean and I watch Slate stubbing out his smoke, his easiness seconds ago gone replaced with his usual fierceness. He stalks away.

  “We had better go and keep him calm. Don’t need no war tonight.”

  Following him, we see Emerald smiling her mischievous grin up at Slate. His fist by his side giving away his fury. But for now, it looks like Emerald’s got it sorted.

  “How did you get Lace to believe you that she was yours?”

  Caden looks at me like I have three heads.

  At that moment, Lace walks up and latches on to his lips. Finally, they break apart. “She had no choice…” His eyes shine, looking at Lace’s.

  “What didn’t I have a choice in?”

  “Tanner here is having trouble with his woman. He wants to know how you knew you were mine.”

  “Don’t you mean how Caden knew he belonged to me?”

  “Woman, are you looking for trouble?” Sweeping her body from underneath her, he holds her body close to his. “Sorry…I have to go teach my wife some manners.”

  Ocean and I stand there watching the newly married couple retreat inside their house.

  Christ…I need to find Crystal and sort this shit out once and for all.

  No more beating around the fucking bush. I will be showing her and clearly spelling out to her, she is the woman for me. A waitress walks up to us and offers us a beer. Ocean starts a conversation with her, and I leave him to it.

  Walking around the lit up back yard decorated with those small twinkly lights and flowers assorted around the yard, I look for my girl. There’s a restroom outside in the garage that houses Lace’s bikes and Caden’s cars.

  “Crystal, you in here?” The light streams down the path to the restroom, but there’s no one in here that I can see. Pushing open the door, I hear silence. “Crystal?”

  I walk out and stroll around the boundary of the yard, not stopping to make small talk with anyone. The darkness hides so much out here. Those two could be anywhere.

  Together.

  And I practically pushed them together.

  Fuck, I’m a stupid bastard.

  It takes me over thirty minutes to realize she’s not outside and neither is Kyle. My stomach is flipping and sweat forms over my skin. Entering Caden’s house, I march through the building. My heart is stuck in my throat with the image I could see any moment. My woman with Kyle. How I would fuck the son of a bitch up. Not giving a second thought to the feud it would wedge between Emerald, Slate, and me.

  There’s no one in the lounge or in the movie room. I listen carefully at each bedroom door, expecting to hear the loud moans of my woman, instead there’s nothing until I come across Lace yelling Caden’s name like a wild banshee. I leave them to it.

  Crystal’s gone with Kyle.

  I try calling her phone, but she doesn’t answer because I hear it ringing in the bedroom the girls got ready in for the wedding. That skintight dress had no fucking room for a slither of hair, let alone a phone.

  I bang the door shut and text Slate.

  Tanner: Crystal’s gone. I need Kyle’s number and address.

  An instant reply with the number and his address lights up my phone.

  Turning on my heels, I go toward my 1969 metallic blue Camaro when a vibration from my phone distracts me.

  Slate: Don’t fuck this up. And don’t fuck Kyle up in the process.

  Waves of pure rage take hold over my body.

  I don’t reply. I can’t guarantee what’s going to happen in the next few hours.

  If I find Kyle with even his pinky finger on my girl, I won’t be responsible for the monster that will come out to play.

  I hope for everyone’s sake, his dick is still in his pants and my woman is in her own bed, fast asleep.

  My arms are aching, my head is banging louder than a Metallica concert and my chest and ribs feel like they were crushed, making me wince with each breath. My chest is even worse than the time I fit my size four body into a size zero Chanel Corset, determined that I could handle the pain for the gala event for the start of fashion week. And that is saying something. My ribs were bruised for more than a week after that act of bravery or stupidity, depending on who you ask. I feel like I have been trampled in an elephant stampede.

  My eyes blur around a darkened room only to find boring, dull brown, worn furniture, a bare light globe hanging from the ceiling, no windows and a damp, foul smell enters my nostrils. I’m brought back to reality, fast. Someone had taken Kyle and me.

  Making my weary body sit up, my butt sags in the overused mattress. My eyes spot a shadow in the darkened corner.

  “Kyle?” I whisper loudly.

  There is no movement. Gingerly, I move my legs. My body gets on the same page as my head, but a feeling of nausea washes over me, making my head spin. I continued to plant my feet on the floor and push myself off the poor excuse of a bed and tiptoe over to the corner. Why the heck I am tiptoeing is something I should think about since I have never tiptoed in my life. Always being the one acting out for attention, being the life of the party and fun to be around. The loud-mouthed friend who would make you cringe with the absurdity that flowed from my mouth at inappropriate times. That was me.

  The clothes were what caught my attention first. Dirty, ripped, and such pure damnation that his black Calvin Klein pointed toe boots were lacking their normal shine, and t
hey looked shredded. Crap…they were his only good going-out shoes too, considering I help Kyle buy all his clothes for formal gatherings, I knew these ones well.

  Dark brown styled hair which was now messed up made me wince, his suit jacket was ripped, and his square set jaw looked bruised. Eyes puffy and closed, his delicious stubble had remnants of blood on it. A lean but muscular body was in a ball on the wooden floor, unconscious. There was no doubt it was Kyle.

  Almost jumping onto his body, I stop myself and instead kneel down and wrap my arms around his shoulders, trying to wake him up. “Kyle…Kyle…wake up. It’s me, Crystal. Come on, you have to wake up.”

  Kissing his face, tears blurring in my eyes, I keep saying his name. I won’t let them break me or him.

  His body is warm, and it moves below my chest. He is breathing, but his eyes don’t open. I wonder if they drugged him like they stuck a needle in me? Most likely considering his current state. Hopefully it will wear off soon.

  Pushing his body slightly, I continue to try and get him to show some sign of life. A murmur, a slight twitch, but there’s nothing. I need to move him to the bed where his body can rest and hopefully rejuvenate itself. Standing up, I realize my favorite shoes are nowhere to be seen. I think back to them grating along the dirt road when the large hands dragged me to an unknown destination. They had been shredded.

  I lunge with my legs apart so I can hoist him up to take him to the bed. A loud rip makes me look down. My designer dress is now completely ripped from the bottom straight up to my waist, exposing everything beneath it. Darn it…

  Deciding this is never going to work, Kyle obviously works out way too much and outweighs me in just his muscle mass alone, I pull the clean but threadbare blanket off the bed and place it over him. He still hasn’t moved.

  Exhaustion washes over me from the small amount of energy exerted. My legs start to wobble, so I crawl under the blanket with Kyle and shut my eyes. Lying next to his warmth soothes my trembling body. We need our strength so we can work out what the heck is going on and why the fuck someone would want to kidnap Kyle and me?

  Could someone be that desperate to kidnap me to steal my new fashion designs I have planned for fashion week this year? They are out of this world if I do say so myself, but kidnapping me for them? Hmmm…

  Does Kyle owe money for his gambling debts that he tries to keep quiet from his sister and one day to be brother-in-law? This would possibly be more like it even though I know my designs are totally worth kidnapping me for.

  Tomorrow, someone had better start giving me answers or the wrath of Crystal will be upon them. Actually, I will be raining hell on them either way.

  My designer dress is frickin’ ruined and my shoes…where the hell are my shoes?

  No one messes with my clothes and gets away with it.

  They will pay.

  Why hasn’t some geek made a fucking teleporter yet? Wasn’t that something that was going to be here when the year two thousand rolled around? That’s nineteen years ago and still we have nothing. Flying spaceships were also on the agenda, I thought. No more fucking cars, no more waiting. Instant gratification. Just how I liked everything in my life.

  Instead, I am stuck in Saturday night LA traffic. Kyle’s phone keeps going to voicemail which is making my blood boil. Images of Crystal walking away from me with her hand tightly fastened to that jerk’s, whip around my mind, antagonizing the hell out of me.

  The Camaro’s steady purr underneath me calms the beast inside me to a point. I close my eyes and listen to the engine with the five hundred plus horsepower emanating from it; giving me peace. It’s a monster of a car, much like its owner. Fast, strong, and deadly when pushed.

  It’s taken me forty-five minutes to get to Crystal’s apartment. Pulling to a quick halt, my heart wrecks my chest as I launch myself out of the car. Hitting the alarm, I don’t run but walk with purpose and fury to the elevator. The doorman watches me carefully. Not one word leaves his puckered mouth. Which I would say would be a lucky thing for him considering we’ve exchanged more than words before, ending with him understanding that I would make my way up to my girl’s apartment with or without consent from Crystal or him.

  Twenty seconds and I am outside her door. I open the door with the key I copied the first time I went to her apartment. It’s been months, but I knew from the first time I landed my dick in her succulent pussy that I would be back. Copying her key ensured I would always have access. Even on those occasions when she didn’t want me near her. Which has been numerous, but she always gives in to my wicked ways. I know what she wants and fucking needs.

  “Crystal.” I stamp my feet over the carpet, moving swiftly toward her bedroom. There’s complete silence except for the pounding of blood coursing through my ears. Swinging the door almost off its hinges, I notice Crystal’s large bed is covered perfectly with a bright blue quilt that had sparkly things all over it. There is no sign of her or that dickhead Kyle.

  Fuck…

  Why couldn’t this be easy? Now I’m going to have to hurt Kyle which is going to be a fucking nightmare for all of us. Emerald won’t forgive me, Slate will side with Emerald, then there will be chaos amongst the four of us. Motherfucking pain in my ass, Kyle is. But I’m talking about my woman here. No one keeps her warm at night except me. And this time, she will understand it when I’m finished with that pretty boy’s face.

  Checking out Kyle’s address on my phone, I make my way back to the car. Revving the engine, I fishtail out of the street with smoke pouring off my tires. Google Maps says it’s twenty minutes to my destination, but I plan to be there in ten.

  Each passing minute, heat coils itself around my limbs, sticking to them like hot glue. A vine of barbed wire spins itself around my major organ, piercing it, getting me accustomed to the pain that could be upon me in a matter of minutes.

  There will be no words.

  My fists will be doing the talking inflicting my pain onto the cause of it.

  Being a fighter, albeit, in underground matches, my reputation precedes me as it does in every aspect of my life.

  Typhon…

  My fighter name.

  The father of all monsters according to Greek Mythology and it describes me perfectly if I do say so myself.

  I’ve yet to lose a fight and I’ve been known to end the fight only when my opponent is taking his last breath. I’m merciless, callous and some would say soulless. Deciding at the drop of a coin that if I have a dislike for you, then you could be fighting for your life. That’s the chance you take when you step on the floor with me.

  Funny, sarcastic, and a joker on the outside but the core of me is noxious and virulent.

  Stopping the car with a screech, I fling open the car door and look at the space above Tuff Customs—Emerald and Kyle’s mechanic workshop that they now run successfully after their father passed away. I’m surrounded in darkness. There are no lights on in the building and it looks deserted.

  Banging the door closed, I make my way around to the side of the building where I know the set of external stairs are. Taking them two at a time, the steel shudders under my feet, making a loud noise. Rearing my hand back, I pound on the metal.

  “Crystal, open this fucking door.”

  The handle doesn’t budge in my grasp, so I continue thumping.

  “Hey, man.”

  A bright light flicks up to me, blinding my sight.

  “Get that motherfucking light off my face.”

  A large, bulky man is pointing the beam straight in the line of my eyes.

  “What are you doing?” His voice sounds weak.

  “Who the hell are you?” My feet move inches from the light, and I notice this guy has a security logo on his shirt. “I need to get inside to speak to Kyle.” I walk down toward him. “Do you know if he is up there?” I try to be civilized.

  “I don’t fucking know. Do I look like his mother? I take care of the shop security and there is one thing I know; you are trespassing
on private property.”

  “You dumb punk. Who do you think employs you?” My hand clenches and my jaw tightens.

  “Emerald and Kyle employ me, and I haven’t seen you around here before, so it’s time you leave before I have to send for backup.”

  “Let me inside this building now, you cock sucker. Or it could be your last breath.”

  I don’t have time to wait outside when my Tiger could be entwined in the shithead’s arms. My nostrils flare and I have my legs planted wide. I stare at the light brown hair on this dick’s head and scan his face for signs of realization of who he is talking to.

  “Sorry, but it’s not happening. Emerald would have my ass if she knew I let a strange guy into her sho—”

  Crack.

  My knuckles crash into this fucker’s nose and blood spurts out immediately. His body slams back into the brick wall. He recovers fast, which I give him credit for.

  “Fucker…” He charges at me with the mag light and tries to slam it into my face, but my elbow clocks him in the arm, making the light fly out of his grasp. I punch him with my fist in the eye and then chest. This time he lands on his back on the concrete and looks unconscious.

  Sweat drips down the side of my face while my boot stomps on his stomach, making him expel air with a groan.

  “You had to do it the hard way.” Reaching down, I find his keys and hope that he actually has a key to this shop so I don’t have to resort to breaking and entering. Even if I had to beat someone to get it.

  Going to the main office door, I try the keys. After the seventh one, a silver insignificant key slides in perfectly and turns when I try it.

  Tossing the keys back to the body that is starting to move, I move forward to the backside of the shop, past the cars being given a new lease on life by Emerald and her twin brother and take the internal stairs up to the small apartment upstairs.

  It had used to be their father’s getaway if he worked late or needed rest during the day, but after his death, Kyle moved in so he had his own bachelor pad away from his mother.