Renegade (Ruthless Tendencies Book 2)

by D. M. Burns

  “Fucking talk to me. Trust and honesty. I want it.” I growl. My dick is hard as a rock again. How the fuck? I ignore that bastard.

  I give it to her straight. Always have and always will. I still haven’t reviewed her files that Crash sent. Because that asshole, Mr. Sensible, was crying out for me to try talking to her again. Well, here I am you prick. Let’s do the right thing AGAIN. It hasn’t worked in five years but what the hell, right?

  “Fucking has nothing to do with commitment Renegade. Those things you want from me, what you’re talking about right now, is just that, commitment. My truths and past are not a part of the sexual experience. That’s all you said you wanted, right?” She whispers. Oh shit. She heard what I said to Rage. God damnit. I close my eyes and look up to the ceiling. Fuck.

  “Brown eyes… I…”

  “My past is just that Ren. Mine. I’ve got to go.”

  She pulls out of my arms and this time I let her go. She moves to the kitchen door with me right behind her. She pushes through and I stay right with her. Her quick footing is like that of a woman with fire under her heels.

  “Listen, I don’t mind sex with you. What I do mind is you pretending with me that it’s more than that. Don’t expect more than what you’re willing to give, yeah?” She says.

  Hold up a damn minute. I gave her my everything before the shit storm she created. She stalks toward the door leaving my ass to marinate in the fuckery I spoke into existence. But I’m not done, no. That’d be too easy.

  “Are you on birth control?” I ask. “Wouldn’t want the past to creep up on us again, yeah? Surely you remember that right. The innocent life that you aborted like the evil cunt you truly are behind all that alluring outside packaging?” I grind out that toxic phrase into the atmosphere. Those evil words are thick in the air. Chokehold effect.

  HATE WARS ACTIVATED.

  DROPPING THE FIRST BOMB.

  INCOMING.

  EFFECTIVE HIT.

  MASS DESTRUCTION.

  Holy fuck shit. I rake my hand over my face continue the motion through my damp hair. You dumb motherfucker. Why Renegade? Why the fuck would you say that? Because a part of you hates her, that’s why. Apparently, my dick missed the memo though, he’s raring to go another round. I lean into the wall casually and tuck my hands under my arms watching her intently.

  Asia’s body locks up at the pool door exit, hand on the doorknob, immobile. She straightens her spine then pushes the door open without even looking back at me. No answer, nothing. Not that I blame her. What do you say to devious truths like that? Fuck her.

  “Well, Mr. Sensible… Go fuck yourself.” I mumble.

  chapter 22 – Asia

  five years ago

  My entire stay at that hospital felt surreal, so much sorrow. It was like God was punishing me for something I wasn’t completely aware of having done. I’ve always worked hard, trained hard, and followed the narrow way. Being kind to my elders and going that extra mile. Volunteering at the homeless shelter and delivering groceries to my disabled neighbor down the street.

  I wasn’t looking for recognition. I’m a firm believer in the Karma you project, is the Karma you’ll get in return. Don’t get me wrong, like all other kids I tumble off the paved path here and there, but nothing major so far. Most of the bullshit I pull only affects me anyway, not others. So why? Was it because I drank? Maybe because I trusted the wrong demon in the crowd? Combo of both mixed into a deadly concoction, poison.

  I’m a loyal friend and family member to those close to me. Protecting my loved ones and those that take up space in my heart. That safeguarding instinct lives in me. I love deeply and even though I’ve built an outer shell that resembles steel, I feel everything immensely. I’m not a bad person but God saw fit that within three months I was raped, lost Ren then lost my baby too. All of which has me losing my damn mind slowly.

  Hanging on by a shaky tree limb hovering over a steep cliff. The fall is lined with a razor-sharp rocky path that opens up to a bottomless pit. I’ve found myself in a very dark place. I stopped wondering around in the desolate space. I simply embraced defeat and sat down in the shadowed corner. Accepting the destination of depression and death that was sure to find me here. What would it really matter? I have nothing left.

  Renegade thought I simply let him go and I guess, in a way, I did. But after everything with Jake, I felt like Renegade deserved so much more than me. Hell, I couldn’t remember anything that had even happened from that life-altering horror flick gone wrong with Jake. I know we had sex. There was denying that. I felt the presence of his sexual act between my legs that morning with every move I made to escape his bedroom.

  I was ashamed.

  I was scared.

  I was not worthy.

  Jake being the piece of shit that he is tried his best to convince me that I was a willing participant. Even in my cloudy state of mind that desperate morning, I clocked his ass sending him flying across his bitch ass bed. Little motherfucker deserved a beat down, but I wasn’t centered enough for a full out attack. It’d have to wait until I was at full throttle capacity, he had earned nothing less.

  I was in no mood for his bullshit lies either. I knew damn well that he drugged me. Then he took full advantage of the situation he placed me in. Even though I couldn’t remember the details those were the facts, period. That raping bastard was not going to twist my reality, no matter how distorted it might be, into something that it wasn’t. One thing it certainly was not, was consensual. Bottom line, Jake is a rapist piece of shit.

  The drugs he gave me fucked with my recollection and muddled the memories. That’s the only reason why I didn’t go to the police immediately. What was I going to tell them? That I was raped but couldn’t remember a damn detail. From the moment Jake slipped that poisonous red solo cup in my hand leaving me to finish it off, I remember nothing. Yeah, that would’ve gone over well with the authorities, not. I told no one. Not one person. My dirty truths that even I can’t recall.

  Which in some twisted type of self-preservation state of mental salvation, I was thankful that I couldn’t remember. It made the act itself, non-existent for me. It remained that way until I found out I was pregnant. MY miracle from a shit situation, my baby.

  Renegade and I used protection every time we had sex. I knew in my spirit that he wasn’t the father. My gut and soul screamed out at me that the DNA daddy was that dream demon of destruction, Jake. A heinous act on his behalf had produced a tiny innocent miracle that was growing inside of me. My safe haven found in a bleak black state of mind and time. My tiny shiny spark of hope. Mine.

  My need to find the good in the situation had presented itself. It was very clear to me. That was my baby. My dark thoughts turned to future names, possible hair color, and beautiful brown eyes, brown sugar to be exact, God willing. Everything bad that clogged my mind before the confirmed pregnancy test results seemed to fade away. The nightmares disappeared too, gone.

  Confiding in my mother that I was pregnant was essential. She talked to me about all my choices, from keeping the baby, adoption to even abortion. Something that she learned was not a topic of conversation with me. When she produced pamphlets from her purse, I eyeballed her like the conversation itself should set her on fire. She quickly stuffed that shit right back where it came from.

  I wanted no part of it. Everyone is different. No judgment is given out by me, only understanding for each person’s situation. Their choices are for them but mine was also for me. I was keeping my baby. When she tried to pry into the father topic, I shut that shit down too. I wanted to forget that part of the process as well. Which wasn’t a hard feat because I couldn’t remember shit anyway. My mother quickly adjusted to the small amount of information I was willing to give her. Even though she was confused she conceded and let the subject go.

  A week later, during the night, terrible cramps edged in and I couldn’t ignore the pain. When the bleeding began, I woke my mother and she took me to the hospital. Ev
erything after that happened so fast and, in the end, I lost my baby too. The guilt that I did something wrong was real. But the doctor assured me that it was simply an unfortunate occurrence that no one could take the blame for.

  All that shit led up to this moment. Grabbing my tiny hand-carved wooden chest off the bed, I make my way down the stairs and head out the door. Tossing a shovel in the trunk of my car, I slam it shut and get behind the wheel. I let out a stuttering breath and turn the key. Driving the few miles to my secret Peaceful Place, I tuck my chest under my arm and grab the shovel. Moving my ass, I hike the two miles through the woods to where I need to be.

  This place held nothing but good memories for me. It was mine and Reese’s secret place in this world. We called it our Peaceful Place. This is where we’d venture off to when we were kids. Our spot that we’d go to get away from everyone and everything. Peace and quiet.

  We buried a time capsule out here to open twenty-five years from now. It was a school project that we took seriously and loved doing together. We even camped out here more times than I can count. A week after I moved into Rage’s house across the street from Reese, we made a blood oath to one another. Promising to remain sisters until death just a few feet away from where I’m standing now. That’s a promise I plan on keeping. I love my best friend to the very end.

  Smiling to myself over our innocent childhood antics, I push through our clearing and set my tiny chest down beside the largest oak tree. There’s no better place to rest my memories at then right here. I shovel out the precious earth. One scoop full at a time until the hole is deep enough. I drop the shovel out of my way and fall to my knees, defeat in my movements.

  I take my chest, flick the latch back and push the top out of my way. Staring down at the contents inside my wooden box, my chest cracks then crumbles. It feels like someone is turning my heart into wood shavings. My breathing comes faster, and my body begins to tremble. All the emotions get clogged in the middle of my throat. It’s a warning that I’m about to freefall headfirst into those razor rocks carelessly.

  It’s the tiny baby toys, clothes and shoes I had started to collect over the past month. The sight of my baby’s lullaby items has me gulping down the ache, unsuccessfully. Gone but never forgotten. I brush my fingertips across the delicate pink and blue swirled baby blanket. It’s plush soft, tender to the touch. I pull it out of the box and bury my face in it leaning over my knees.

  The tears that I’ve held back break free. All the sobs from months of brutal bullshit escapes. My stormy emotions collectively collide against my chest with a compressing sensation. A heavy sinister presence across my shoulder blades creeps in too. My cries are that of a lost little girl in a crowd of monsters surrounded by familiar landscape, hysterical.

  Raising my head off my baby’s blanket, I fold it back up along with the precious what-if’s that’ll always be with me. As I place it down in the chest, my eyes catch sight of my sonogram picture. I slide the picture out and tuck it into the back pocket of my blue jeans. That stays with me, mine.

  It feels as though the devil himself is standing behind me, both decrepit hate filled hands held firmly into place. Pushing his demonic wicked weight into me as he laughs out loud with heated evil victory. I pull the top slowly shut and lock the beautiful chest closed. Bolting the good away, safe in the tiny box. Placing my forehead against the wooden masterpiece, I allow myself to weep violently until I have no other tears left inside to soak into the wood.

  When I finally pull myself together, I place the chest into the ground. I stand, reach for the shovel and gently toss the granulated red earth on top. Filling in the ground that I disturb moments ago. I bury my baby's beloved items along with all the good possibilities that God temporarily gave me during fucked circumstances.

  “Asia… Are you okay?” That fucking voice… The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and my body begins to violently shake.

  “Jake…” I growl.

  Slowly I turn around clutching the shovel in my hand. He stands there with both of his hands tucked into his pockets. I’m ready to kill this guy and gearing up to dig his tomb too. Nothing left to lose. Because of him.

  “Listen, please.” He whispers softly.

  It’s like he knows I’ve stepped over that fine line of insanity with unstable intentions for deadly deeds. Things that I’m sure to get away with right about now. He holds his hands out in front of him. The tears are still falling from my eyes, but this time it’s the hate emotions powering them out of my body with no effort.

  “This place was all I had left that was sacred to me. You’ve managed to take this away from me too.” I hiss out between clenched teeth. My grip on the shovel twists around, getting familiar with the weight. Noting that my body has ramped up into a full-blown quivering attack. “God!”

  “Listen, I saw you at the hospital the other day. I know what happened, okay.” He rubs the back of his neck. Eyes wide and pleading. I’m the wrong bitch for him to expect sympathy from.

  “You don’t know shit, Jake,” I growl.

  “Our baby…” He whispers. I point the shovel at him and grit my teeth.

  “You never bring my baby up again. If you do, so help me God, Jake, I’ll kill you.” I step toward him and adjust the shovel for a better swinging position. It’s digging into the grooves of my hand from the vice-like death grip and he backs away.

  “I’m so fucking sorry Asia. I never meant for any of this shit to take place. I was drunk that night too. That’s no excuse though, I get it. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. That’s all. Fuck.” He rakes his hand through his dirty blond hair and those sympathetic sapphires search mine.

  “I wasn’t drunk. I was drugged, you bastard. BY YOU!” I thrust the shovel in his direction again. “Stay away from me Jake. You see me, walk the other way. Don’t speak to me, ever. I’m dead to you. You get me?” He nods his head slowly. I turn on my heel and move for my car with thoughts of killing him playing out in my mind Rob Zombie sinister style.

  chapter 23 - renegade

  The sounds of his shoes are like music to my fucking ears as he powers his way through the front door cutting a path over his fine Italian tile. Asshole has good taste in tile, I’ll give him that. Scratch that. Knowing this bag of dicks, he probably hired an interior designer to make the magic happen within these walls.

  Even though I’m thoroughly enjoying his fucking taste in bourbon from the generous open bar selection, I’m ready to get this shit over with. I have other things to take care of.

  Swiveling around in the stool, I lean back as he flicks the light on casting an expensive glow over his immaculate living room. I plaster a demonic smile on my fuckboy face for Jake the Ripper. This motherfucker has some explaining to do and I’m not leaving without answers. Zero fucks are given for the methods that I must use in getting them.

  “What the actual fuck are you doing in my house Renegade?” He tosses his phone down on the coffee table and steps toward the bar in my vicinity. Prey to the slaughterhouse. Come on, motherfucker.

  “Enjoying your fancy-ass bourbon, that’s what.” I hold the glass up and kill the contents then set it out of my way. “Also, waiting for you.”

  “Break and entering is against the law asshole?” He says.

  “So is rape Jake but you’re still a free fucking man. On daddy’s dollar no doubt, huh?” I tilt my head and study this sadistic fucker.

  “Fuck you, Renegade.” He scoffs.

  “When you rape your victims do you keep souvenirs? You know, keepsakes to look back on… I bet you do. What is it? Underwear, a lock of hair or maybe you write out your fuckery in a diary? Asking for a friend.”

  I smirk at him with vicious intent while playing with the change in my pocket. The muscles in his neck tighten up and he balls his fist up. Yeah, this fucker is a hardcore rapist.

  “How many women have you raped? I bet you’re well into the double digits by now, huh?” I ask. Taunting him is key.

  �
�I’ve never forced any woman to have sex with me. Never had to.” He says.

  Bullshit… His eyes turn into slits as he takes me in from head to toe. He wants to kick my ass but knows that’d never work in his favor. Instead, he walks behind the bar. He jerks his coveted brown liquor up and inspects the thousand-dollar savory flavor that I’ve been indulging on for over the past hour. That shit is flowing through my veins fueling my interrogation.

  “You drink almost the whole damn bottle.” He says in shock.

  “Yeah, thanks. You can buy more asshole.” I shrug.

  “How the fuck did you get in here?” He asks.

  “Fucking seriously? You told me to put my profession to use, you dick.” I throw my hand out as if to say let’s move on from the fucking obvious. “Why did you deed that fucking commercial property over to Asia?” I ask. Let’s cut to the heart of things.

  “You can get into some serious fucking shit for…” I cut him off.

  “That’s public record, asshole.” I shrug.

  I stand from the stool, preparing my body for the impending situation that’s drawing in. I fucking feel the shift in the air. It’s raising the hairs on the back of my neck up. Kinetic energy for the wicked motherfucker that he is.

  “But my intentions are none of your god damn business.” He says.

  “Jake it’s a simple question.” I toss my hand out flippantly.

  “I’m trying to help her that’s all.” He pours himself a nice full glass of the liquid encouragement then tosses it back in one go. Yeah, there’s more to this shit. He sets the glass down and refills it for a second go but steadies his consumption this go around.

  “Why?” I ask.

  “Maybe because some other dick bought the location, she had originally signed a contract to rent. Public record, remember?” He raises his brows at me and smirks.