My Monster

by Ellie Jean

  Flopping on the bed, I pull the quilt over me and close my eyes. Fully aware of my self-made aloneness.

  I subconsciously pray that my fragile mind won’t hold me hostage for too long.

  Fragility is what makes love so powerful.

  So intense.

  So natural.

  I see that now.

  Nature is breakable, we are breakable, but if we truly love someone, and we find our way back to them, then love’s fragility becomes unbreakable, making it unstoppable.

  The ‘L’ word hadn’t been used.

  Actions speak louder than words.

  True for both of us.

  And I just walked away.

  Left without a word.

  “Run. Run. Run. As fast and as far as you can, Liza, because there is no place I will leave unturned, no whisper I won’t listen too, every shadow I will walk into until you are dead.”

  Talking to myself makes the silence a little easier to bear. Used to Crystal’s wise crack comments, sitting and eating while bantering over a great shirt that she thought was shit entertained us both, her opinions always right and telling me the numerous ways to do things correctly when I had been looking after myself for ten years, irritated the fuck out of me but I would break down the Great Wall of China if I could hear her laughter and voice tonight.

  Sighing, the echoes remind me of how alone I am.

  But Crystal needs time.

  To be away from this world is the only solution.

  Trying to protect the people I care for is unrealistic.

  I’d failed.

  Heaving my battered body with my tired and stiff limbs up to the apartment after the hospital, I had showered and laid face up on my bed; contemplating as I look up at the ceiling.

  Silence surrounded me, except in my head.

  I should have seized her and made her mine when we played pool that first night. I’d known it but didn’t act. Too concerned with other pieces of ass and fulfilling the duties that come with the job. Taking her, showing her, accustoming her to this way of life, not dumping her in the middle of it, she could choose her path in this.

  See it.

  Hear it.

  Neither.

  The choice was hers until it catapulted into our laps: Tonight. Liza fucking Amari.

  Understanding our world and being a witness to it is completely different. I won’t lie and expect never to be lied to, but certain reactions will occur when being shoved into the ugliness without a say.

  I should have known.

  The right thing to do is untie her from me. Get her far away from this corrupt world as possible. Crystal is destined to radiate brightly, to be famous and known to stars around the globe. Our shadow will bring her down.

  Arms crossed against my sore chest, I shut my eyes, trying to find the strength to take in air.

  It was time to face reality. I’d been lying to myself.

  I was in love.

  The bubbly, flamboyant, sassy-mouthed, fashionista captured my wayward heart.

  Her calling was to design, make and shine, and the darkness encompassing me wouldn’t allow it. I needed to stay behind and let her keep moving forward.

  Without me.

  Yes, this was what love is. Putting their needs before your own.

  My pulse all but stopped with my realization. She was what made it beat.

  Fuck… Could I be unselfish for once in my life?

  Casting my half opened eyes, due to swelling, to the neon orange time on the digital clock, it read nine-ten a.m. Sleep evaded me. Her cheeky voice taunting me when I closed my lids.

  Motherfucker…

  My hand reached toward the table, my body protesting with each slight movement. My heart sprang to life.

  I needed a hit.

  I’m an addict.

  And Crystal is my drug.

  My euphoria.

  My illumination.

  Crystal was saving me, but my world could kill her.

  I’d put it off for hours contemplating my actions, but I couldn’t stop myself.

  I am desperate to hear her.

  Like a fish needs water, a plant needing sun and a baby needing milk; my hand was forced because I needed to breathe. Her voice, for now, was what would keep me alive.

  Pressing her number, the ringing begins.

  “Shit.” I disconnect the call. “What the fuck are you doing? She doesn’t need you to fuck up her world, leave her alone and let her move on.” The pounding starts in my head, my neck tight, jaw clenched.

  Before I can reason my stupid actions, I hit call again.

  She picks up on the first ring. “Hello.” Tiredness is evident.

  Tingles, fucking freaking chills slide over my body with one word. My stomach rolls, anxiety overwhelming me. Should I explain, yell, ask if she’s alright or ignore what occurred?

  Her breathing is shallow through the phone. Nothing is said, but I can hear her. She’s there. And I take in oxygen.

  Calming my heaving chest, I grasp the phone tight. It’s my lifeline.

  “Crystal.” It’s my prayer. The anguish in my voice betrays my confident self. Dread chills me. Was she afraid of me?

  Of course she was.

  I had no right calling her, yet hearing her quiet voice calmed my frayed nerves.

  She saw me. Very few delve beyond the skin surface, but she managed to. Surprising me more was that I fucking let her.

  “I’m sorry.” Hoarse and apprehensive, I am on the verge of an outburst. I want to convince her to come back to me.

  But my Tiger needs to roam free.

  Resting my head back on the bed, her small breaths are steady and they zap through me. Thankful she continues to stay on the line, I count her breaths.

  One—cold air in, warm out, cold air in, warm air out.

  Two—cold air in, warm air out.

  Three—cold air in.

  My fingers loosen and a fog drags me under.

  “Thank you.”

  Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

  “What the fuck is that?” Stretching my arms, my elbow knocks the phone from the bed.

  The mobile.

  How long had we stayed on the phone? Did my Hotcakes find comfort in staying on the line like me?

  Rolling over, aching with each movement, I embrace the soreness. Deserving each brutal stab, rip and blunt pain felt.

  Today was the day.

  There was no more rest until Liza was caught, tortured and made to pay.

  Dialing Slate, I’d been out of it for five hours or more.

  “You finally awake?” Slate fires down the phone, “Get your ass to the office. We’ve got work to do.”

  “Be there in five.” I take a moment to look at myself before stepping in the shower; I gaze at the mirror which casts back a damaged man. Black rimmed eyes, swollen jaw, red abrasions, and open cuts randomly spread across my abs and chest. Hands are angry and my knuckles are busted.

  I think to Crystal and the last time we spent in the shower together. The water was close to cold, yet the screen steamed over from the intensity of our fucking. Her silky legs wrapped around my waist, her head resting on my shoulder, licking my earlobe, me nipping her jaw and chin until I almost lost my grip on her ass against the slippery tiles with the tremors shooting through my legs.

  Shit. I move that train of thought on. There will be no hot, luscious showers, no more deep kisses and biting her neck or dominating her body until her cute ass submits to the pleasure and pain.

  The time will come when Liza is dead, but this world will have a replacement, willing to do whatever is necessary to climb their way to the top. There is no end.

  My world will always be ruthless, ugly and unpredictable.

  Four minutes it takes me to dress, grab an apple, and make it to the office floor.

  “I got a plan.” Striding in, I place my ass on a seat.

  Slate’s drinking scotch and Caden is pondering over a computer screen. They both look up.

/>   “I’m not stopping ‘til I find this bitch.” I pour a scotch. “Wherever it takes me, I will find her skanky ass.”

  “It’s been confirmed the men shooting last night were her newest soldiers. Seems she’s got allies with a few smaller factions.”

  “It was too coincidental for it not to be Liza. Fighting there for years without so much as a pub brawl. A shooting aimed at us, sending a clear message to everyone. Liza has to follow through now or run. She has to anticipate we will come after her with everything we have, after shooting Ocean, running down Emerald and the kidnapping.”

  Burning liquid runs down my throat. Slate and Caden nod.

  “How is O?”

  “We took Emerald in to see him earlier, but that’s the last outing for my woman.”

  Caden interrupts, “She made him.”

  “I bet she did. She’s as relentless as fucking C…Crystal when they want something.” My voice falters on her name.

  “Amen to that. Lace is learning from the best. Actually, you guys need to keep your women away from mine. She’s close to compliant at the moment, but your ladies are fucking vicious. I couldn’t handle that.”

  “I can’t do shit about Crystal.” I throw back the scotch and reach for another. “Slate though?” I grin, looking at him. “Good luck.”

  Looking away, I check my phone so I don’t have to look at them, I’m not ready to talk about her yet. My stomach flips and my jaw slackens. Crystal stayed on the phone with me for four hours and forty-five minutes. A ripple waves through my abdomen. My eyebrows draw in. Why did she do that? Did she sleep? Lay on her bed listening to me?

  Standing up, I throw the phone in my pocket, pissed that it had come to this. Words I couldn’t give her or that would change a fucking thing. And like a coward, I’m frightened to hear her words.

  “I’m going hunting.” I swing the bag over my shoulder, giving a chin lift to my brothers. “Lock down those women and stay alert ‘til we sort this fucking disaster out. Call if you get info.”

  “We’ll be working from this angle, T. Update us daily.”

  Walking out of the room, the guys will be watching Ocean and the women, including Crystal. I will be the tracker, on foot, in the field and when the strike is imminent, I will call my brothers in. Desperate times called for desperate but calculated and irreversible decisions.

  The Shadows will exterminate the ghost.

  “I shouldn’t have come.” The smile that greets me at the door drops to a seriously pissed off face.

  “Fuck that. Of course you should. Get your ass in here.” Emerald bangs the door shut. “I’ve missed my girlfriend.”

  Drawing me in for a hug, which is so me and totally not Em, I embrace the warmth I’ve been missing for almost a week.

  “Miss you too.”

  Releasing me, we walk to the kitchen at a slow pace as she’s not using crutches anymore. My head swivels on high alert, like I’m a Gazelle ready to be eaten by the king of the jungle.

  “Mr. Bossy’s not here, so stop with the freaking out.”

  My chest deflates with the breath I was hanging on to. “We need girly time and he has some business to attend to.”

  “I couldn’t deal with his intimidating fierceness today.”

  Em had called me the morning after the horrific night when shit became real. Swearing and cursing, worse than normal, about the overbearing, hard handedness Slate had delivered after the fight. He was pissed at her for endangering herself. We knew this would happen, that wasn’t a surprise, but the level of fury aimed at me because I could have cost Tanner his life, was. Emerald had sugar coated it, but it came down to I was a major distraction, one he shouldn’t have had to think about that night.

  We’d made a colossal mistake.

  One that could last forever.

  Reaching the dining table, I see the table is covered in food.

  “You didn’t have to cater lunch just ‘cause I was coming. There’s a huge amount of food here.” My stomach drops thinking I’ve been set up and the men will walk in at any moment.

  “I didn’t. I’ve been baking.”

  The glass of juice I was pouring slips and is close to spilling.

  “No freakin’ way. You don’t cook.” My voice is high pitched, and I hardly recognize it.

  Eyeing the spread more than just a glance this time, there’s cake, chocolate mud it looks like, scones, eggs, and other assortments of sandwiches cut into perfect triangles, some sort of small cheese tarts and a bowl of raspberry marshmallows.

  “I don’t do broken legs or being told I have to stay inside either.” Resting her leg up, she sits to the right of me. “This is how fucking ridiculous this thing with that witch is getting. I’m bloody cooking and the worst part is, I’m enjoying it.”

  A belly laugh rips out and tears start to well. Who would have thought the mechanic chick could go all Martha Stewart on us.

  “Slate’s impressed?” My hand takes a fistful of candy and I start shoveling the soft, fluffy pieces of heaven into my mouth.

  “The limited amount of time he’s here, he is.” A slight grimace flicks across her face.

  Having daily conversations with Emerald since the fight, I knew the guys were pursuing my kidnapper with more ferocity. I’d heard Ocean was doing well and was coming back to the apartment in a day or two. Emerald still had a few weeks left before the plaster on her stable fractured leg could be removed.

  “How is…Ta…T?” Stuttering, I gave myself the talk, a hundred or more times that I wouldn’t ask this question. Such a failure, I lasted less than five minutes. Shaking my head, I take a plate and take every type of food, piling it high. My waistline had been decreasing with stress and my sadness. The small amount of food I was picking at during the day at Mom’s wouldn’t feed a butterfly. As mom kept reminding me. Yet here I am stuffing my face with the most delicious banquet. I hadn’t done that in a very long time.

  “No…don’t answer that. I have no right to know.” Chocolate cake hits my taste buds and I am done for. “This is delish.” Taking another bite, I look at my friend. She looks worried.

  “What?” I use a finger to wipe the corners of my mouth. “Have I got chocolate everywhere? It’s your fault if I have, this cake blows me away.”

  “We haven’t seen him.” Emerald watches me carefully.

  My fingers tighten on the plate and I almost gag on the cake in my mouth before squeezing it down my throat. Gently, I put the china down as my hands become clammy and I try to sip some juice to combat the dryness.

  My heart feels like it’s shrinking, and I try to disguise the slump in my posture, straightening my back again. Secretly, I hoped Tanner would show up today. I missed our chats, his sense of humor that drove me up the wall and having that person to annoy the hell out of. You know that’s not all, right? But it was all I could bring myself to think about because I would have banged down his door in a second if I let my mind race to the way he cast a spell over my body, taking me to new levels and exploring fantasies I didn’t know I had until he showed me. Stripping us both bare emotionally and literally.

  But I walked away. And I had to live with that.

  “What do you mean?” He hasn’t been kidnapped? Small black spots start to cross my vision.

  “Slate said he’s gone hunting. Off the grid at times. Limited contact with the guys until this parasite is caught.”

  The trembling of my hands subside hearing her words and my eyes focus on my friend’s beautiful face. An air of confidence surrounds her. My fear is replaced with a slightly less one; He will come face to face with this woman. One will come away and one will die.

  I slump.

  My body can’t pretend anymore. Holding everything in like I’m trying to do up my skinny jeans, I suck every ounce of breath in so I can draw up the zipper. But my zipper has let go this time, shredding apart.

  The stress, anger, sadness proving too great around my trusted friend.

  “He’s been calling me,�
�� I whisper as a confession. I’d lied to my best friend exclaiming to her that I couldn’t see Tanner, hear his voice or smell him cause I needed a clear head to sort myself out. No matter how long it took me.

  Only kindness looks back at me, there’s no judgment. “And?”

  “Five times, when I go to sleep. Once the morning after the fight. All I do is listen to his breaths. I hang on to each one. He talks sometimes, other times it’s a state of peace and calmness. Surviving. If only just. Together.” Christ, hearing myself, I sound looney and weak. And I am. And I don’t mind if I’m not the assertive, take no nonsense, grab them by the horns girl I usually am, because I’d rather be this way with Tanner than alone and strong.

  “I lie there waiting, knowing he will call now. The rawness of his voice undoes me each night, knowing that I am doing this to him. But I don’t know what to say. There are so many questions I want answered, but I don’t want to know the answer to. I want to swear, scream, kick him, hurt him, cuddle into him, and ride his cock but in which order I have no idea. I want to tell him he is my moon and I am his sun, that I am his Bonnie to his Clyde. So cliché but necessary. And then I question, can I live with him understanding he could die because he is protecting Slate, you, the guys or me?” My mind’s been whizzing around like a tornado at Mom’s. I’m like a guitar with no strings. A sewing machine with no thread or a car with no fuel.

  Useless.

  Accomplishing nothing except noticing how good the series are on Netflix. So much choice.

  “We could all die today by getting run over by a bus.”

  I roll my eyes at her and laugh as she grins at me. “Yes, Mother, we could. Well, actually you can’t ‘cause you’re not allowed out.” I try to stomach a marshmallow. “But seriously, how do you manage it? He has never lied to me, yet I feel as though his life is setting us up for failure. I can’t be the nagging girlfriend wondering what time he will be home, what he’s doing and who is trying to kill him this week. The stress is eating me from my heart outward.”