by Bijou Hunter
Answering the phone, I hear muffled sounds but no voices. I nearly grin at the thought of Soso butt dialing me. Then I remember she’s wearing a skirt with no pockets. It’s possible she hit the wrong button while reaching in her bag, but I know in my gut that she’s in danger.
“I have to go,” I say, jumping up and running for the door.
“What’s happening?”
“Soso’s in trouble. I don’t know where or how, but I need to find her.”
Butch frowns darker. He doesn’t know why I’m panicking, and I’m not sure how to explain why I know Soso’s in trouble. She isn’t flighty like Sissy. Soso doesn’t accidentally dial people.
Butch hurries after me as I exit his townhome. “What should I do?
I stand on the front porch and realize I have no clear idea where I’m headed. My brain recalls her plans for the day. She wanted to cook dinner together tonight. Enchiladas maybe. Plus, she mentioned Freki was low on his special kibble. At breakfast, I asked if she wanted me to pick up food, but she said she would do a round of shopping with Sissy instead.
“Soso and Sissy went to the store together,” I tell Butch, who instantly calls his woman.
Panic easing, I remember the app on my phone that allows me to track her location. She agreed to sync our phones since she still doesn’t know the town well and might get lost. She also wanted to spy on me.
“I get nosy too,” she said, wearing a devious smile as we installed the app.
The thought of her in danger makes my blood run ice cold. Conroe is a quiet town except for the Dogs. Or maybe not. We worried there might be people pissed about the Dogs’ disappearances. Is that why Soso is in danger?
I’m halfway to my Harley before Butch calls out to me. “They finished up shopping and were packing up their groceries, but Sissy can’t find her. Soso’s truck is still in the lot. The door is open, and her purse was left behind.”
Butch knows what he’s saying, but he doesn’t dare utter the words, “someone took her.”
I study the map on my phone. A small red dot moves along a winding road in Conroe. Soso’s on the move, and the speed indicates she’s in a vehicle.
“Call the guys and get them out looking for her. Put out feelers to everyone in town. We need to find her.”
I climb on my Harley and race in the direction the app says she’s headed. Though it’s possible Soso is nowhere near her phone now, my only option is to chase down the moving dot on the phone map.
THE BOHEMIAN
I quickly lose track of where we are in Conroe. Woods on both sides of the road, no homes or businesses in sight. Griff doesn’t check his phone for directions. Does he even know where we are going?
“I couldn’t fucking believe those assholes came up here to paint your damn house,” Griff grumbles as we turn onto a winding road. “Where’s their fucking loyalty?”
“My dad made them come up.”
Griff gives me a quick glare before returning his blue-eyed gaze to the road with its many curves.
“Your father is a bitch,” he says. When I don’t answer, he grabs my wrist. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
“I’m not trash-talking my dad to feed your ego.”
“But you’ll trash talk your fucking rapist man.”
I fight the urge to argue with him. Griff always did this crap. He would claim he heard something about someone and then bring it up again and again to make an issue. Like he once claimed “someone” told him that Layla was a thief. Then every time I misplaced anything even for a few seconds, he’d mention how she probably stole it.
I’d point out how she couldn’t have stolen it, but that was my mistake. There’s no arguing with Griff. I can never give him enough evidence to prove he’s wrong. It’s just an exercise in frustration. Even if he never convinces me either, he still wins by having me argue. His behavior wore down my resolve, making me easier to bully in other ways.
I’m not falling for his tricks today. I will remain calm. When we stop somewhere, even if only at a light, I’m making a run for safety. The problem is we’re in the middle of bumfuck nowhere with no lights or stop signs. Even if I jump out, I won’t find a sanctuary out there.
But I still plan to escape the SUV when I get the chance. I’m aware that Griff never lets down his guard. Meaning, even if I escape the vehicle, I’ll have him right on my ass. Timing will be everything.
That’s why I don’t waste time arguing with him. I need to keep sharp. Except my body hurts from him smashing me against the SUV in the parking lot. Pain also radiates from where he backhanded me.
But I refuse to focus on anything except the road. Sooner or later, he’ll need to stop, and I’ll make my move.
“You’re so fucking stupid,” he says, chuckling angrily. “You have stars in your eyes for that rapist as if he’s special, but you looked at me like that when we started dating. You thought I was fucking everything. What happened to that, huh, Soso?”
His voice rises until he hollers my name. I rack my brain for the right response.
“What do you want me to say?” I yell, and he looks ready to hit me again. “I made a mistake, okay, but it’s too late to change anything now. I moved here. People helped us move in. I can’t just go back home. It’s too late.”
Griff growls full of frustration and bangs on the steering wheel until he nearly loses control of the SUV and sends us into a ditch.
“You fucked up everything!” he screams. When I don’t react, he shakes his head. “I’ve had so many hotter women than you. Better in bed too. You’re a lousy lay, but I loved you anyway. Loved you more than you deserved.”
“If I’m shit, why are we doing this?” I ask quietly.
“Because I love you, bitch!” he says, shoving me against the door.
Again, I prevent my head from bouncing off the window. Griff glances at me, looking disappointed.
“What you need is a strong man to keep you in line. I was too soft. I thought you’d whine to your daddy if I put you in your place, but deep inside, that’s what you want. That’s why you’re in love with a rapist.”
I want so badly to yell at him or, at least, roll my eyes as he claims our relationship would have been better if he smacked me around or raped me when I said no. Griff is fucking ridiculous, and I want to scream at him. I always wanted to put him in his place, but he doesn’t listen, and we’d go in circles until I got tired and he won.
Today, I hide in my head and stare out the front window. I watch the road, curving this way and then that way. With the thick woods, I have no idea if we’re close to anything until we’re on top of it.
“Watch out!” I cry when Griff starts grabbing at me and stops paying attention to the road.
Crashing into the fender-bender in the road might have been a better solution than warning Griff. Except I saw the women in the road and knew they’d get run over if his SUV shoved their sedans forward.
The road’s twists and turns led these older drivers to clip each other. Rather than move to the side, they left their sedans resting in the middle while they argue over fault.
My warning allows Griff to hit the brakes in time. The SUV screeches to a halt, only clipping the car on the right side of the road. The women jump at the sound. The impact isn’t enough to push their cars forward, though.
Despite suffering a scare, they immediately start yelling at us. Griff frowns at the women while watching his breath. He’s startled by how close we came to smashing into the cars and killing the women.
His distracted mind offers me a chance to escape.
I’ve been side-eyeing that door handle for ten minutes. My hand’s been aching to touch it. Now, I have my chance.
I pull hard at the lever and throw myself against the door, hoping gravity will ensure I get away from Griff before he can grab me.
My shoulder takes the brunt of the fall onto the asphalt. Scrambling to my feet, I don’t wait to catch my breath. I run toward the woods, knowing the women offer no help. The
y’re old and likely not packing a weapon. While Griff no doubt has one in his jacket. He’d end them long before they pulled a weapon from their granny purses.
The woods are my only escape.
I seek the clearest path, avoiding brush that might entangle me. I don’t dare look back. I steady my breathing. My sandals are horrible for running, but there’s no time to take them off. I can only keep moving forward.
Behind me, Griff gives chase. I don’t need to look back to know he’s catching up. I feel him closing in.
I won’t be able to outrun him. His long legs dwarf mine. I had hoped the thick brush might slow down his larger build.
But he’s right behind me, and I don’t have much time. I know I’m taking a risk, but I slow down enough to jam my hand into my skirt and panties. Ignoring the phone bouncing around in my underwear, I search for the switchblade and pray it hasn’t fallen out during the run.
Griff tackles me as my fingers brush over the metal. I go sprawling on the ground. The wind bursts from my lungs as his body lands on mine. The jolt stuns me. I can’t breathe for a few seconds. Then he yanks me by the arm and flips me over onto my back.
When I was little, my mom warned me that monsters were real. “They’re out there, but don’t be afraid,” she said, wearing the most beautiful smile. “Just be smart and stay ready to deal with them.”
I don’t know if I believe in Bigfoot or trolls, but I know monsters are real, and I invited one into my bed months ago.
Now, he’s going to kill me.
I see the realization in his eyes that he’s taken things too far and can’t rewind the clock. His ridiculous breeding plan is out of reach. There’s no scenario where he survives. If Bubba doesn’t kill him, Dad will. No one in the Brotherhood will care about a dead Griff. Not now. The second he grabbed me from the parking lot, he burned through all his goodwill.
With nothing to lose, Griff chooses to go out in a blaze of violent glory. He tears open my shirt, scratching my chest in the process. I can’t freeze. Not when he’s about to rape and kill me. There’s no running away or talking him down either. I have to fight, but I only have the one shot.
The switchblade clicks open. I hear the sound, but he’s too busy bitching about how I ruin everything to notice. His powerful hands shred my bra, leaving me exposed.
Despite my fear and panic, my mind focuses only on my target.
When his hands move down to my skirt, I see my opportunity. The blade feels so small in my hand. Such a tiny blade can’t do enough damage. I’ll only make him angrier.
But I have to do something.
The tip disappears into his left eye. I shove the blade as deep as possible, quickly hitting bone. In my head, he’ll drop like a rock. I’ll survive to see Bubba. Everything can still be okay.
Griff lets out a roar of pain that I feel through my entire body. Clenching, I know he won’t drop. I’ve hurt him, but it’s not enough. Should I have aimed for his throat? Is it too late?
I never get another chance to strike. His left hand seizes my right one holding the knife. He squeezes in the way I imagined him doing to Freki or the birds. My bones snap under the power of his grip.
I scream in pain, and my mind goes blank. Nothing registers beyond wanting to go home. Rather than returning to a place, I want to go back to a time before I agreed to date Griff. Or farther still to when I was a kid. Back when my dad scared away the monsters, and my mom kissed away my ouchies.
I don’t want to be here in the woods, tits out, hand broken, waiting to die.
Griff is speaking, but I can’t hear his words. I want to cradle my hand and crawl out from under him. I’m suffocating under the weight of his body.
I wish I could disappear, but I’m all Griff sees.
Holding his eye with his left hand, he brings his right fist down on my face. I hear the bones crack. I see bright stars and feel as if I need to vomit. My mind swims, and I wish it were over. Now, I want to die because I’m afraid of how much more he’ll do before he ends me.
I crawl into my mind and hide there, deep inside my happy place. There’s no pain here. No fear either. I’m at the A-frame with Bubba. Freki sits next to him, always wanting to be close to the big, kind man. I know the feeling. Ula makes Bubba smile, and he rubs Bjork’s belly. We’re safe here, back in a time before Butch was shot and I ended up broken in the woods.
My happy place is where I want to be when Griff kills me. Not with him as he takes out his disappointment and rage on my body.
I want to be with Bubba, where we first fell in love.
THE RUNAWAY
The dot on the map stops moving on a small, rural road. I arrive only a few minutes later to find two old women squabbling over their fender-bender. There’s an idling SUV with Tennessee plates behind their crashed sedans. In my mind, everything clicks. Griff came for Soso.
“He just left!” one of the women yells at me as if it’s my fucking fault.
“Where did he go?”
“That way after his girlfriend!” the other woman screams.
I don’t know if they’re deaf or pissed, but they do point me in the right direction. Driving my Harley into the thick woods will likely just slow me down, so I jump off the bike and begin running.
I’m barely past the tree line when I hear Soso scream. The pain in her voice inspires me to run faster than I think possible. I hear more noises, echoing in the thick brush. I don’t deviate, running instead through the clearest path. Soso would have wanted the quickest route away from Griff.
She didn’t waste time asking for the old women’s help. If Griff is unhinged enough to grab Soso, he’s willing to kill a few bystanders. My woman hoped to hide in these woods, but he was too fast, and now he’s hurting her.
I hear her cry out again. First in pain and then her voice shifts into desperate sobs. She sounds so hopeless.
My rage nearly blinds me. All that register are Soso’s screams.
I see Griff ahead of me in the woods. He’s kneeling down. His back is to me, but the crunch of leaves and tree branches under my feet alert him to my arrival. Griff turns around to reveal a bloody left eye. Good on Soso for fucking him up, but it’s not nearly enough.
He lifts a gun, but there’s no time to aim. The bullet tears through my right arm. I feel the heat of the contact, but my pain disappears into the void. I only see a man who needs killing.
Tackling him, we fall next to Soso.
I don’t dare look at her.
My heart aches to hold her and know she’s alive.
But I can’t give into that softness.
Every part of me must focus on the death of this man.
Griff and I know the routine. We are evenly matched in size and skill. We always end up at a stalemate with Soso breaking the tie.
Not today.
I pin his right arm to the ground, above his head. The gun in his hand fires pointlessly as he tries to break free.
My free hand digs into his open eye wound. Griff screams, drowning out the sounds of Soso’s sobs and the gun firing. His cries invigorate me, and I shove my hand deeper. Tearing away flesh, I return for more.
The gun clicks empty. His other hand scratches at my face before punching me. He’s desperate to live now. Seeing me through his good eye, Griff begs to go back in time. I revel in his terror, pain, and panic. I think maybe he cries out like a child, begging for mercy.
I let go of his right arm and shove my other fingers into his good eye. His body convulses under me. Blood gushes around my hands. I feel him fading as I break bones.
I’ve lost control of my bloodlust. Driven by the fear of learning what he did to Soso, I refuse to stop.
If Soso’s dead, I won’t be able to survive. I realize I can’t hear her any longer over Griff’s weakening cries. I’m terrified to know her suffering.
Soso owns my heart, and I failed her.
Even when Griff is long past dead, I can’t stop. Punching his destroyed face, I refuse to look away from w
hat used to be a man. I’m too afraid to let go of my rage and feel the full agony of failing Soso.
Then her fingers caress my jaw, and everything demonic inside me shuts off.
I reach for Soso, seeing only her.
Griff’s corpse doesn’t exist.
The world outside of her in my arms is a mirage.
THE BOHEMIAN
Bubba is the man I love. I believe I know him. But he’s not the man I see tearing apart another man’s face. This creature is a stranger to me.
I’d vomit at the sight of his violence, but my body is in shock. My mind isn’t much better. I spin even when remaining perfectly still. I continue waiting for death despite watching Bubba destroy my attacker.
The sounds Griff makes as he dies are like nothing I’ve heard before. They’re inhuman, much like Bubba’s violence.
My eyes swell from where Griff hit me. My nose is broken. I spit blood while covering my bare chest.
The physical pain barely registers. I’m overwhelmed by that noise Griff makes. In contrast, Bubba is eerily quiet as he rips flesh from the man that I once shared my life with.
I don’t know either of them anymore.
Looking in the direction I came, I want to crawl to safety. Away from the madness next to me. I want my brother to appear to lift me up like he always did when I was a kid.
But I’m alone here with two monsters.
Griff, thankfully, stops making that horrible high-pitched scream. The woods fall silent.
I don’t know this Bubba. I can’t imagine him ever touching me again.
I’m ready to flee, as fearful of him as I was when Griff attacked me.
Then I hear a noise. A whimper maybe. Bubba saying my name. He’s lost in a fit of violence and rage, but there’s some part of him that’s still my hunky puppy.
My mind returns to him drunk from the Korean Kickass. He was vulnerable, wanting to be better but not knowing how. I fell in love with him a little that night. I wanted to believe he was a big strong man with a big soft heart. He proved I was right to have faith in him.
