Renegade (Ruthless Tendencies Book 2)

by D. M. Burns

  “Touché.” I chuckle. “I’ve got this burning in the pit of my stomach though Jake. Because let’s be honest, you help no one except your damn self. So, that entire notion doesn’t settle well with me.”

  “Take a fucking Tums and move the hell on.” Jake walks out from around the bar coming into reaching distance. Dumb move fucker.

  “She doesn’t want your help. Body language is a beautiful thing. Unlike brail, it’s clear as fucking day to the eye if you’re paying attention.” I deadpan.

  He’s studying me. Almost like he’s trying to decipher my body language for the truth behind my words. He’ll get nothing. My motives are controlled and tamed for now. The damn fact of the matter is that Asia probably wants nothing to do with neither one of us at this point. I’ll deal with that later though. This fucker needs guidance like a five-year-old. I’m going to give it to him too.

  “You have no idea what she wants Renegade. The fact that you’re here tells me that she still hasn’t told you shit.” He chuckles. I ignore that and move right back to the question of the hour.

  “What would possess you to hand over property worth well over a million dollars?” I step closer.

  “Maybe I care for her Renegade. Is that so hard to believe? Still, that’d be none of your fucking business.” He points at me with the drink in his hand.

  “Did you hear me? She wants nothing to do with you. You do understand the concept of no, right? Shit, I keep forgetting that you’re immune to that word, multiple times over.” I growl. Prodding the pussy is something I’m good at. In both senses of the definition. It produces results from women and this prick too.

  “No matter what, that woman will always think of me, asshole. Lingering in the back of her mind,” He taps the side of his temple with his index finger then continues, “because I was the father of the baby we lost. Not you asshole.” He spits out between gritted teeth. This motherfucker…

  RED… FUCKING RED RAGE… Coating my vision, filling my veins. My mammoth hand spikes out slapping the glass out of his hand sending it soaring across the room while my other claw braces around his windpipe tight. He unlatched the gates of hell and released the god damn beast for a gruesome assault on his face. The sounds of bones snapping coupled with crunching singsongs out and about. Filtering into my ears with each pounding punch connected.

  The grunts from my chest grow louder and my strength only picks up with every strike. My level of liquid love is pouring out, out of his fucking face in a nice shade of red. This brings me a scary amount of joy. My dark heart runneth over. If I don’t stop soon the blowback will be murder charges. That is if they find a body. Shit let’s take some chances. Live a little on the wild side, that’s my motto. Unlike Jake. He’ll be dead. Fuck him.

  Only when his physique goes slack in my hands do I release my grip and watch his dead weight ass hit the blood-stained tile underneath my shoes. I brush both of my hands through the sides of my hair and roar out into the emptiness of his mansion. That sound carries the thunder of a Lion King Renegade savage over every square inch. Son-of-a-bitch… Leaning over his fucked for life face, I spit directly on him. Zero fucks.

  “You, lying piece of fucking shit.” I seethe. I bend at the knees, hoovering over my mangled artwork, trendy look for this motherfucker. An improvement if I say so myself. I jerk his manicured crisp white handkerchief out of his coat pocket and leisurely begin to clean his blood off my knuckles.

  “Well, shit Sellers… Look a here, it’s a piece of your busted-up tooth sticking out of my knuckle. Wonder how that got there?” I chuckle as I flick the bloodied chip out of my hand onto his black suit. “Ya know, most of you basic fuckers think Rage is the one to be worried about.” I laugh with zero humor because what I’m saying is the biblical truth.

  “But in all seriousness, he rages his anger and aggression out every week in a steel cage. It’s a productive and pleasing outlet for him. Hell, my brothers and I encourage it. The true evil though… The shit none of you, dumb fucks realize is the horror that silently surrounds you, like a predator casing and waiting. The real Ruthless Tendencies live within me and my brothers. It’s a breeding ground of caged cruelty contained. We’re the quiet ones with a calm disposition cover-up. We get overlooked. We plan it that way. And this little get together tonight is just the forerunner of my fuckery with you Jake. Call it fuckboy foreplay if you will.”

  “Now, this is the way I see it. This is important shit for you. So, listen up.” I tuck his blood-stained hanky back into its rightful place then slap his cheek to make sure he’s paying attention. “You listening, motherfucker?” When he moans, I take that as his way of saying yes and I smirk.

  “That shit you just spit out will remain sealed tightly in that demented dome of yours. Because I don’t believe a god damn word that comes out of your dick sucker. But know this Sellers, I’ll find out what’s going on and that alone should scare the fuck outta you.” I scrub my hand across my jaw. “And this just in, if it’s what I think it is, you better hope like to fuck your manic ass disappears before I make it back your way. Cause if you touched one hair on her head unwanted, let alone raped my girl, I’ll fucking kill you.” I pat his chest and push myself to stand and look down on him.

  “I’ll take my time too. Enjoying every twisted god damn thing I conjure up within this dark evil playhouse sitting on my shoulders. Death won’t come quick enough Jake. Keep the welcome mat out fuckface. I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you real soon. Good talk.” Calmly I turn on my heel and walk out like I didn’t almost beat the life out of a man in his own home. Fuck him.

  chapter 24 - Asia

  Sitting in the middle of my living room floor surrounded by the various alcohol bottles, I close my eyes and randomly select a shot surprise. Oh, vodka it is. Chugging back the harsh but welcome buzz to follow. I shake my head and let out a full-bodied shiver. Trying to stable off the urge to give the liquid love shot back all over my floor. I let out a long steady breath of air and run my fingernails through my hair.

  After returning home from Reese’s I jumped in the shower. The chlorine smell washed away with ease but scrubbing those evil parting words off delivered by Renegade proved to be a useless task. All I managed to do was rub my ears raw with a washcloth leaving shit results. He thinks I had an abortion all those years ago. Oh, God. He thought it was his child. Dear sweet baby Jesus. For years he has thought the worse of me.

  What he said at that pool house made my ears burn and instantly produced tears. Even now, the blurry and muddled replay causes a high-pitched ringing that drowns out all other sounds around me. Or maybe it’s my alcohol levels coursing through my bloodstream. Who knows? Shit, who cares. I’m getting comfortably numb and that’s all that matters.

  I’ve got to tell the truth though, as I stood there holding onto that cold steel door handle, I contemplated whirling around and screaming my truths out at him. Making him feel like the asshole he truly is. The visual of me turning around, marching over to a nearby lounger, and ripping it from the floor then knocking the shit out of him was lifelike.

  Would it have done any good? No. Well, I mean, I would’ve felt better about things, for sure. He called me a cunt and killer in the form of a question turned into a statement. The implication was clear, and the results drained my heart of love refilling it with unreleased anger. Uneducated fact-less dickhead.

  How could he think that about me? It explains his disgust for me though. That’s for damn sure. Hell, it explains everything he’s done. Except thinking I was capable of such evil doing to my own child. His information is misconstrued and completely off the mark.

  In all these years he never once come straight out and asked me. Hell, he still didn’t. He’s really good about beating around the bush. Those covert little hints and snide comments that tiptoe around what he’s really trying to get at. He never confronted me. Not until today, sorta. It clearly shows that Renegade never truly knew me at all.

  Renegade told me this was just se
x. Hoping for more was a dumb ass move on my part. But I couldn’t stop myself. The hate fucking was hot but that was never us. That guy back at the pool house is not the same one I fell in love with. There was pure animosity resonating off him. It coated my skin with a heated and hateful sheen. It was the sinister “Fuck you,” he growled at me during sex that has me believing the worst. Tends to be an eye-opener, huh? Hot-hate fuck, period. I signed up for it though, right? Stupid-stupid girl.

  Deep down Renegade loves hard. It anchors you to him, draws you in. One of the things I loved the most about him was his willingness to show love intimately through physical touch. Illustrating it through his passionate side, slowly, sensually. Maybe this is the aftereffect of my actions-my creation. Is it possible this is the man he is now? Just the idea that the fun-loving side to Ren no longer exists is depressing.

  When my phone rings, I reach behind me to snatch it off the coffee table. Effective grab but my drunken state causes me to fall out on my back. I love the vodka, but it apparently doesn’t love me back. Reminds me of Renegade. Focusing on the screen it shows No Caller ID. I swipe the call and try my best to speak without slurring.

  “Hellooo.” I giggle.

  “Miss. Grace…” The man’s voice says.

  “Yes. This is she.” My hiccups are comical and real.

  “Hello, this is Mr. Frazier. Do you remember me?”

  “Oh sure. Hi… Alfred Hitchcock.” I hiccup and cover my mouth when the giggles start to overflow.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t catch that last part.” He says.

  “Never mind… Whatcha know good?” I giggle.

  “Yes… I was calling to let you know the building you originally looked at is available for rent now. Mr. Carter has finished all the repairs that you, yourself were working so hard to complete. As a matter of fact, he did a great deal of upgrades just for you. So, you need not worry about that do-it-yourself list anymore. It would seem that this wasn’t such a bad thing after all. He has taken care of everything.”

  Oh, Mr. Frazier, that’s called the power of the P and Renegades “fuck you” very much dick duties. He simply wants to dick me again sir. Or maybe he feels sorry for me in some twisted type of way, debatable. That is, when he doesn’t want to choke the air from my lungs. Renegade feels obligated out of sex acts only. He hates my guts but loves my body. Sorta, how I feel about him right now. The stupid asshole that he is.

  “The space is ready for business. He expressed that I should reach out to you. I have e-mailed you the new contract for review. Please just sign and return the papers to me when you have time. Congratulations and I wish you the best of luck.” Mr. Frazier ends the call. What the hell?

  Holding the phone away from my ear, I look at the square screen as if the entire conversation was spoken in a foreign language. After what Ren said to me today, I should hate him. But the cold hard truth of the matter is that I love the Thor look-a-like asshole that he is. Ren makes me feel levels of anger that are richly coated in a thick layer of love. Comparable to an emotional candy bar for the diabetic death that my love for him is sure to suffer.

  Renegade’s a man caught up in a love-hate battle. Over the things that he believes to be true and what he actually feels for me. And I’m caught up in the need to inflict pain or let him go. The healthier choice is to let him go. Renegade will be surprised to soon find out that I want nothing to do with the strip mall space.

  All I want is to sleep the past away. Curling up on my side, the tears leak out of my eyes. One second, I’m giggling the next I’m crying. I’m a fucking mess. A drunk fucking mess. Next month is the anniversary that truly started the descent of all my shit five years ago. Great, just great…

  chapter 25 - renegade

  The air around me is still wrapped up within the dark shadows that the room provides. Silence is a calming effect but only to those that aren’t likely to sink in their own quicksand of thick thoughts. Caging asshole motherfuckers like me in a deserving prison sentence from years of falsely accusing others without any substantial proof. Just god damn assumptions.

  Lifting the crown bottle to my lips, I finish off the rest then toss it behind me onto the floor. The shattering sound is welcome. Any noise is better than my fucking thoughts shrieking out at me. Mainly conveying what a damn dick I am. Have been to her, fuck.

  Palming both sides of my head, I lean forward and place my elbows on my knees. My current sitting position on the kitchen island proved easy access to the alcohol, convenient. It’s where I’ve been for the last twelve hours, I think. I lost track of time. My fucks are not given right now.

  Every time I think about the vile shit I’ve said and done to Asia, I want to kill another fucking bottle of whatever I can get my damn hands on. Labels are irrelevant at this juncture. I’m deep in drunk thought that all ends with visions of future blood-splattered walls. Much like my business suit that has Jake’s red DNA sprayed everywhere. That’s the only joyful thought I’ve had in hours. BOOM. There’s my pretty guy smile tipping up my lips.

  When I left Jake the Ripper’s place, I went straight to Renegade Investigation’s. I scoured every fucking last piece of information in those files that Crash sent to me. Truths from the past are demonic in nature. Evil knowledge to the asshole that’s deserving. I wanted it though. Oh, and I got it too.

  Well, fuckface Jake surprised the shit out of me. He did something I truly thought he was incapable of doing. He told a partial truth. Asia had a miscarriage. She never had an abortion. That much was in black and white from five years ago in her medical history report.

  I remember that day I spotted her in the hospital like it was five minutes ago. Asia resembled death on the outside with a fake pulse on the inside. The mood around her was stale and lifeless. Her eyes were blank and held no recognition or give a shit for responding to the life that surrounded her. It was like looking at a wheelchair depiction of a rolling corpse with no destination, hopeless.

  She needed someone.

  She needed me.

  I judged her.

  I convicted her.

  I hated her.

  God damnit.

  Now as fucked as it may sound, I wonder if that motherfucker was telling the truth about being the dad. My instincts are edging on truth, but it's laced with a sinister starting point in all of this. Jake raped Asia. The ending to all my suspicion result in Jake’s a dead man.

  Asia knew I’d kill him. That’s why she never told me. That’s why she broke it off with me. That’s why she left. She protected me at the expense of me hating her, for years. This is the only thing that makes sense. This is also fucking poison knowledge coursing through my lifeline. Like always, I was determined to dig out the tormented tales and truth of the matter. She needed me and I wrote her off like a bad debt while hating her existence until now.

  After the pool party of fuckery I brought down on her, she’s not going to be an easy one to talk to but it’s going to happen. Well, as soon as I sober the fuck up. Brushing a hand over my face, I twist to the side and layout on the island looking up at the ceiling as it stares back at me with a blank expression.

  Asia was partially right; somethings are better left alone. Shit like molded bread, expired milk, or even out of date cheese. But this was not one of them though. The truth will always display light in a darkened space. It’ll guide you through shit-stained realities and propel you in the right direction.

  Without it, you’ll be left feeling your way around a midnight existence hoping not to fall in a rabbit hole. Yelling out for help with a mute voice that’s never heard. Where I’ve been for five years without her. The same place I know she’s been too. She’s been existing not living. This shit ends today.

  “Brother…”

  My ears perk up, but my body doesn’t move a muscle. Shit. It’s Reb. Damnit this little asshole has impeccable timing. I chuckle out into the air as I hear his heavy footfalls pounding against the floor carrying his big body throughout my house. He’s on the
hunt for me. In here you mini Rage fucker.

  “Renegade, are you here man?” Rampage yells out.

  Damn, when did Ramp get back from New York? I laugh louder as I adjust my arm under the back of my head. Wonder how much money Rampage and Brogan made over the last week. Those two are like the Wizard of Oz over Wallstreet.

  When it comes to financial statics and numbers those motherfucker’s rule. Whirling around their mathematical equations that produce money piles. God damn playboys probably spent the majority of their time fucking bitches. Useless waste of time in my opinion. I’d rather have something substantial. Jesus, I sound like a pussy. Or pussy whipped, whatever.

  “Yeah… In here you, dicks.” When the light is flipped on overhead, I cover my eyes using my forearm and growl, “Fuck the light… Cut it off.”

  “What the hell brother?” Rebel says with confusion in his voice. His shoes are crunching over the broken liquor bottles that are layered on the kitchen tile.

  “Shit, Renegade. What the actual fuck?” Ramp trudges deeper into the room.

  Turning my head their way, I squint through heavy-lidded eyes. Ramp swings the door open on the pantry and pulls the broom out beginning the chore of sweeping up the broken glass that my truth tantrum produced. My anger is a motherfucker.

  Rebel’s shoes move swiftly toward me sounding like glass fragments being crushed into a powder form under his forceful steps. The approach and intent sounds hostile. He grabs both sides of my suit jacket ripping me up into a sitting position. Reb jerks me surprisingly rough. Little brotherly brooding badass. I snicker at him.

  “Why does your kitchen look like a fucking bomb went off in the glass cupboards? Did you piss off Asia? Is this her handy work?” His words are full of concern as he flings my jacket open looking for injuries. “Whose blood is this all over your god damn clothes?” He growls.

  “Damn Reb, your concern is heartwarming but I’m fine.” I push him away from me. “It’s Sellers. Believe me when I say he deserved every fucking punch. He’ll get much more as soon as I’m sober.” My smile is a deadly confirmation spiked with promises that’ll shortly come to pass.