by P. Brier
The sound of soft feet descending the stairs, pulls me from my hopeless thoughts. I shake my head and rub my hands over my face.
I lament and stand, ready to stay firm and keep an appropriate distance. I can’t allow myself to get distracted, I need to keep her safe. If Marco shows up, I must be ready.
She rounds the corner to my office. She is apathetic, and I did that. I start to take in the rest of her appearance and notice she isn’t in her normal garb. She is wearing a pair of black skinny jeans that show off her toned legs, with rips in the knees. She wears a short-sleeved army green crop top that sits above her bellybutton, putting her tight stomach on display. Her long black hair is pulled back into a high bun on top of her head. She looks older, and showing a lot more skin. Why the change? Fuck that. I mean, she looks sexy as hell. But, she looked just as sexy in jeans and Rock tee, and a pair of vans. That’s the Jesse I know and...
She clears her throats, noticing me gawking.
“What’s with the clothes? I spew, a little more harshly then I intended. She flinches, but collects herself.
“Not that it is any of your business, but it was time for a change” she shrugs, indifference coating her voice.
I raise an eyebrow and huff. I am not having this battle. She isn’t mine, I have no right to tell her how to dress. But fuck, I can’t let anyone see her like this. They will get the wrong idea. Just like me dick.
“Whatever turns you on, Darlin” with that I walk away.
Feeling her follow behind me, I prepare myself for what is going to happen. I have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. Grabbing my blade and my favorite Glock, I head towards the door. I look over my shoulder, when I don't feel her following. The look of fear takes over her face, she is frozen in place. I shake my head.
"Just precaution, were going to meet with my contact. I don't like surprises" I confirm.
I head out the garage door and I unlock my cobalt Dodge Ram 4door and get in, not waiting for her to follow. I start the truck. Which breaks her out of her mental coma and follows suit. She struggles getting in because my truck has a moderate lift on it and her short legs struggle without steps. She gets in and buckles her seatbelt and turns to me with scowl.
“What now?” I huff.
She shakes her head, “just trying to figure out which Bane I will see tomorrow?”
Ouch. The drive to the meeting spot is quiet, her last words ringing in the air. She doesn’t know me. The real me. I miss her voice, even if she hates me. I can’t imagine living in a world where I’ll never hear her singsong voice.
I pull up to the abandoned underpass, near 29th Street. I tell her to stay in the car and exit without confirming she even heard me. She is better off. I’m not ready for her to meet Jay until I talk to him first and find out his motives.
I walk toward Jay, who is leaning against a concrete support. He is smoking a cigarette and looking a little worse for wear. He doesn't make eye contact. But he looks to the truck, right at Jesse. What the fuck. He looks agitated. Something is off.
“What’s going on? Why did you demand to see me? We weren’t supposed to meet till next Tuesday” I growl.
“I’m sorry. I had too", he looks up and finally makes eye contact, "it's over”. He says an octave below a whisper.
The scream that emanates from the car shoots immediate rage through my body. I pull my guns from my waist and point it at the car. A cowardly man holds a pistol to the back of Jesse head as he wrestles her out the car. I will kill that motherfucker first. She looks terrified and a lone tear escapes her right eye.
“Get. Your. Hands. Off. Her. Now” I growl ready for whatever happens. I grip the pistol, ready to shoot the fucker in the head, when three slow claps ascend from behind the truck. Fuck. It’s Marco Montgomery and he is not alone. A ghost stands beside him. Danny.
"Put the gun down" he smirks "We just want to talk" my dead best friend sneers. “Plus, do you want Franco, here to have some fun with little sister?”
10: Brother Mine
“God hath given you one face, and you make yourself another.”
― William Shakespeare, Hamlet
Now…
Jesse Montgomery
I DON’T KNOW how long I have been here. It feels like hours maybe a day. My arms feel numb and needles run through my veins. Bane hasn’t been back since he left. The darkness puts me in subspace of isolation. Why leave me here? I am at his mercy; he could do anything. Instead he leaves me hanging here, with nothing but my thoughts. Dying of starvation sounds horrible, but for some reason, it doesn’t seem like his style.
I try to get a fill of the room. I know there is a chair somewhere in the corner. Some water dripping in the distance, a sink maybe. I feel cold concrete below my feet. I’m guessing a basement or cellar. God, how is this happening. I mean I knew he would come for me and it wouldn’t be pretty when he did. But when they came for me, I couldn’t believe he didn’t come for me himself. I guess how I die, didn’t really matter to him. The thought made me feel dejected.
I’m getting ready for bed when my doorbell rings. I can’t imagine who could be at my door. For the last two years, I kept to myself. A recluse if you will. I opened the door and before I could open it all the way, the door comes back and hits me in the face and I stumble to the floor. Whoever is at the door laughs gruffly and large hands grab me by the arms, not gentle in the least. The smell of cigarettes, beer, and rotten breath takes my nose hostage. I begin to scream, when another hand slaps over my mouth.
“Shut up bitch, or I’ll stick a gag in your mouth.” He spews, spit falling on my face.
His friend rummages through the house, breaking things, pulling drawers. Obviously making it look like your garden variety robbery. Not that anyone will be looking for me anyway.
The feeling of cold metal touching my cheek, makes me shiver and fear secretes from my pores. I am going to die. The next thing I know the man with the gun rips my night gown and begins to fondle my breast. His rough hands taken liberties I once reserved for another. No, not this. I fight as best as I can, but his body is too large. He overpowers me with no sweat. I begin to scream again when the feeling of something hard smashing me in the head cuts me off. Pain rattles my brain and takes me out of my nightmare and darkness blackens my eyes. Before losing complete consciousness, I hear the man say he doesn’t need me awake for what he wants to do.
Then I wake up here, blindfolded and hanging like a dead cow after slaughter. Only I’m alive, and he is speaking to me. He hates me, hell he is going to kill me. I deserve everything he is going to do to me. I betrayed him. But I also saved him. But he will never know.
There was a time, when I was naïve, young, and innocent. But all that was taken from me. From us. Now what’s left is a shell of a girl. A monster. I made my decision three and half years ago, and I don’t regret it. How could I. This might not be how I wanted to see him, but at least he is here. Safe. Alive.
If my mother could see me now. She would relish in my pain. She would love watching the man I loved, finish me off for the horrible things she made me do. Then she would finish Bane off, like she promised all those years ago. I always thought my father ran the show. But now I know the culprit. The ringleader. My mother. Lies and deceit is what she is good at. She played all of us. She wanted me dead and now she will get her wish. He deserves peace, I will give it to him. It’s kind of poetic justice, dark but poetic.
As I hang by my wrists, toes barely touching the ground, I sway, trying to alleviate the millions of needles jabbing my muscles. Knowing this pain is minimal compared to the torture he will surely inflict later I start to relish in my isolation. There once was a day when I looked forward to Bane Stratus paying attention to me, but now, I hope he stays gone. The man he is now is vengeful and deadly. He is a lion ready to strike and I am a gazelle about to be devoured.
As exhaustion takes over my body, a blanket of darkness traps my mind. I slip into an uncomfortable sleep as my head falls to
my chest.
The sound of the door unlocking wakes me from my stiff slumber. My body is screaming in agony so I try not to move. I can’t feel my arms anymore and the pain in my neck is throbbing. A whimper escapes my lips as I try to find some comfort. He walks closer and quickly unattached the chains and my small body falls to the hard ground. I scream from the concrete banging into my already abused body. Concrete-burn covers my skin and I gasp for breath. I close my eyes and imagine I am anywhere but here.
“Time to play, I hope you’re ready, because this is going to hurt”, he coos.
✽ ✽ ✽
Then…
No! Father. Then I look to the second man and my heart stops beating. He is alive. My brother is alive. That jubilee doesn’t last long because he seems rabid. Menacing. He doesn’t seem fazed by his baby sister being help by gunpoint. No anger or outburst at the prospect of my death. Instead he cackles, a deep facetious tone.
“Look at her face, you would think she has seen a ghost” he speaks to me with disgust. He sounds so cruel and distant.
“What the fuck is going on, Danny” Bane growls.
“It will all be explained soon, son” my father exclaims.
“I am NOT your son, Marco” Bane hisses.
“Watch your tone, boy, you’re already on thin ice” he says dismissing Bane. He turns to me and smiles. The gun pushing further into my skull. I look to Bane and he’s glaring at my father. This isn’t happening.
It’s my brother. Its him, in the flesh. But somehow, I don’t believe this is Danny.
“What happened to you" the words rush out harshly, “Who are you” I yell. Causing Franco to push the gun further into my temple making me wince.
Bane tries to rush to me, but Franco slides his other hand down my shirt and grips my left breast, I start to cry, please no, “She is pretty isn’t she, Bane. I wouldn’t come any closer.” Bane growls at the man. But stops. Noticeably irate and ready to get violent.
Danny laughs. He doesn’t care. I am nobody to him. Whether it’s an act or the truth. My Danny is gone.
“What you don’t recognize me, little sister?” he sneers in my direction, “I’m Travis. I’m your big brother.”
Travis?
11: Little Sister, Lost Brother
“There will be killing till the score is paid.”
― Homer, The Odyssey
Then…
Travis Montgomery
THE SMELL OF charred flesh invades my nostrils. I had just got done taking care of Edward Davey. I flayed his body like a pig for dinner. His body was wrapped around a pole; a bat had been rammed up his ass.
I played with this one awhile. He was a sick bastard. Not that I am any different. But this specific job was more than a paycheck. He was a pedophile. A disgusting hillbilly ingrate who preyed on children. I may torture people, but I’m a killer with morals. Children, are off limits.
I wipe my hands on my black leather apron. I pull out my cell phone and call the cleaners, then walk out the door. Looking at my artwork one last time, relishing in his contorted last expression. His throat was cut at the end, no last words. I hang my apron on the hook in my workroom and walk out into the sunshine.
I jump on the back of my bike and head back to the compound. It a short ride since my working area is on our property. I pull up to the gate, and notice a black Bentley sitting outside. The hairs on my arms stand up in attention. Something is off. I walk up to the front door and place my helmet on the table.
“THEO”!! I yell, waiting for him to answer. Today is not the day to have unknown guests. Not when I’m doing a job.
I run into the kitchen hoping to find him, with a good explanation. When the sound of footsteps approaching behind me causes me to halt. Theo doesn’t walk. He is wheel chair bound. That wasn’t him.
“Hello son”. That voice. No one calls me son. Except for him. My eyes widen when they connect with Marco Montgomery. My father.
My blood boils with rage and it take everything in me to not put a hole in his head. Theo.
“Where is Theo”? I demand.
“Oh, you mean that crippled piece of shit”, he mocks him foolishly,” he is taking a nap downstairs. Don’t worry, he will be right as rain soon” he concludes, while picking the imaginary dirt under his pristine nails.
He sees me tense and raises his hand. I’m gonna kill him.
“Just listen” he sighs, “I didn’t hurt him. I need you on our side, it wouldn’t do me any favors to harm the only person you do like”.
This gets my attention. Marco Montgomery doesn’t let people live. He is pure evil. If he let Theo live, then he must truly need my help. This is my chance. My chance for retribution.
“Well isn’t this nice, how can I be of service, father?”
“I need you to be the son I wanted. The strong one. I need you to help me take her down”
“Who”?
“Your sister, your mother, everyone who hurt you””.
He sounds so sincere, which pisses me off more. I don’t trust his act, I don’t trust anyone who is a Montgomery. First, I will help him hurt them, then I will fucking kill him.
✽ ✽ ✽
Then….
There you go, play dot to dot little sister.
When Marco came to me about his plan, I was sure I want in. I was the son they decided wasn’t worth keeping. I remember the night they sent me away. I was sent to live in the foster homes at age five, shortly after Jesse was conceived. I guess three was a crowd. I was always bitter, unlike a lot of these kids I remembered what it was like to have parents. Shitty ones, but they were my parents. I was sent to multiple fosters homes and each one was worse than the other.
It started out with neglect, then physical abuse, then eventually I was sent to the worst and last one. He was a member of the South Riders, a local gang. I was abused and used until Theo found me. He took me in when I was fifteen. He found me fighting my foster brother. I was beating him senseless, seeing nothing but red, when a tall lanky man with a grey beard pulls me off him. He must of saw something in me because after that, he always came around. Wanted to get to know me, and understand me. One-night things got bad at my foster parents. My foster father decided it was time for me to get a job. In other words, sell drugs. I’m not a druggie, fuck that shit, I’m high enough on my own. I don’t need fucking help. I refused. My foster father beat me to an inch of my life. Said I thought I was better than them. I was.
Theo saw me the next day, and decided enough was enough. He barged into their house and confronted him. Bad timing, because four lead members of the gang were there. But he still stood strong, showed no fear. He grabbed me by the collar and told him we were leaving. They didn’t stop us. But two days later there was a drive by at his house. He never walked again. I knew it wasn’t coincidence. He was shot because of me. I guess I should have been grateful he wasn’t dead. For that I was forever indebted to him.
Turns out Theo was a member of elite group, The Guardians, that specialized in making the worst of the worst disappear. With his new condition, he no longer could exact his own revenge, he got in touch with the organization and started my training immediately. It was tough work and even though he was in a chair it didn’t stop him from drilling me till I could barely stand. He was a resilient trainer. Me, I turned into an even more dangerous, deadlier man. My first kill, my old foster family and the South Riders.
The Montgomery’s were next on my list. The whole family is vile. I wanted to make Jesse suffer. She was the little princess of the Montgomery Empire. Me, I was disposable. I wanted to watch as the light escaped her eyes. The last breath that leaves her mouth is mine to take. I am a sadist after all, inflicting pain helps ease the monster inside me and nobody is safe. Except for Theo. Partly I blame Marco and Irina for Theo’s misfortune. Had they never given me up he would still be walking today. He deserves better, even if that meant never meeting me.
Danny was easy to get rid of. He set it all up for us fro
m the beginning. When Marco found out about Danny’s plan to fake his death, and run away with Jesse and Bane, he found his opportunity to end his fake existence. That’s where Jay came in.
Marco gave Jay an offer he couldn’t refuse. See, Jay had secrets. He liked to cheat on his wife with unwilling women and snorting the white powder. How his family didn’t know he was a psychopath is beyond me. The plan was if Jay switched the drug, we wouldn’t show his wife the pictures, and most importantly, his daughter would stay safe from sexual depravity. With that simple threat, Danny ceased to be, leaving me the only twin left, the only one who Marco could hand his business over too. That’s his plan. My plan, I’m taking it anyway, then I am going to burn it to the ground, with every Montgomery corpse underneath the ashes.
One of my many talents, and some may call it a curse. I feel no pain, no emotions, no nothing. I am a bleeding robot.
I am chameleon, a master manipulator. I can be anyone I want if it benefits my needs or wants. I’m a selfish son of bitch that is for sure. Which make my second talent much easier. I’m well versed in making people disappear and making it look like an accident.
It all worked perfectly. There will be nobody alive or not paid off to testify to Danny’s death. I will take his place. Jesse will look like she overdosed. Irina will have killed herself over her daughter’s death and father and I would rule the empire without distractions, he thinks. Once all that is done, I will have gained his trust. I will get him to sign me as a board member and then dear old’ father will die of a heart attack shortly after. “Danny” will be devastated, but resilient and move the club to better ventures under my rule. Nobody will know the difference.
