by Sam Crescent
I knew him well. It would be one of the sharpest. School or not, he carried a weapon. Not that Crude Hill High was a safe place. Nope. People died. Enemies’ kids were sent there. It was a breeding ground for pain and violence. I liked it.
I didn’t have to hide away if I was there, and I never backed down from a fight. Even if there was one I knew I wasn’t going to win. Being a Monster didn’t mean I was invincible.
We’d all lost a fight. The difference between us and everyone else was we didn’t cower or hide. We came back for more. We may lose once, but the next time, our opponent would end up dead.
As I turned over the ignition, my beauty purred to life, and I pulled out of the parking lot. All the fancy houses were nothing more than a cover. Employees and staff lived here. There were a few civilians, but for the most part, every person who lived in Crude Hill knew what was coming to them. The police department was a joke.
If someone called for an emergency, there was no cop to come and help. They had two lines. The line to the outside world, and a constant call to whoever had the deepest pocket. This town was our own personal playground, and what was more, every single family here could make sure no press ever made it close to the school or to the town. Some kids thought they had it rough. They didn’t know anything. Not here.
“I want to get my dick sucked. You think Meg’s is open?” Gael asked.
Meg’s was a massage parlor. It was run by one of the southern crime lord’s mistresses. So far, Meg wasn’t up for sale, but it would only be a matter of time before her pussy went on the market.
Mistresses were crème de la crème. A lot of men tended to open up about shit once they’d come, and mistresses were great stress relievers. Of course, in most cases, said mistress was kept away from the wife.
I smiled, remembering when my dad actually brought his mistress home. He’d wanted her to become a nanny, even though there were no young kids. My mom went completely crazy. The mistress didn’t last the night. In our world, our women, unless they were trained properly, they were just as violent as the men. My dad liked my mom crazy. He liked her drawing blood, fighting for him. Sometimes, I didn’t even believe he fucked around on her, he just liked to use her to get his kicks.
Strong women were rare. For as many who had a backbone and could shoot their husband down, I’d also witnessed those who slowly succumbed to the numbness of pills and drink. This wasn’t an easy life for anyone. It was hard, painful, and not in the least bit fun.
“It’s Vadik’s turn to say what we’re doing,” I said, looking toward the back.
Vadik smirked. No one ever liked what he wanted to do. Where all of us embraced our life, Vadik made sure we had some time where we were actually eighteen-year-olds. He wasn’t weak. No, to cross him got you killed. I’d seen how he fought, and his loyalty was to us four. Not to his father, or our combined fathers, but to us. One day, all four of us would take over, and it would be us running things. Until then, he kept us balanced.
Which was why, an hour later, with burgers and fries, we sat in the movie theater, watching some action film.
Gael would be pissed, but he liked to just relax as well.
River always took the opportunity to sleep. Watching a movie, with the three of us guarding his back, it was roughly the only time he relaxed. The Block family had a lot of enemies. River hadn’t been the same since he was taken for three days when he was sixteen years old. Mistakes had been made, and River paid the price. Half of the scars on his body were from that time. Three days could kill a person. It had messed River up and it meant he spent a great deal of time training. He got cut up really bad, and it was what had created his fascination with knives.
No one would ever be able to get the drop on him. For hours, we’d sit around a junkyard as River threw blade after blade at a target. Not once would he stop until every single knife he threw hit its target.
This made him feel safe.
Vadik nudged my shoulder. “Word is out that some pimps got through security and are patrolling the grounds, waiting for the opportunity to strike. My dad gave me the warning. It’s an immediate kill. Don’t ask questions.” He held up his cell phone, and I looked at the men.
I nodded. When River woke up, he’d be given the update. Gael waved his hand, letting us know he heard.
Taking a bite of my burger, I leaned back, but it wasn’t the movie I watched. No, for some strange reason, I thought about Emily Crane.
My dad had told me to watch my back, to keep an eye out. He wanted to know of any proposed marriages to her, or if she gave even a hint of what her father was like. So far, nothing. I’d known her since kindergarten. Always kept to herself. Like most of us, she had bruises on rare occasions.
There was no reason for us to question where they came from. It was like how one of us could come in with a broken bone. Everyone would know why, but nothing would be done.
To many, we were the scum of civilization. But the truth was we were the fucking kings of the underground. The monsters people were afraid of, and everyone had offspring, even those that people wished just faded into nothing. My father was responsible for a lot of pain and suffering. His name came with a sneer attached, and what was more, he embraced it. As he’d told me, fear is power, and if I didn’t learn to harness it, I was worth nothing to him. What I had to do was prove myself.
All of us had proven what we were capable of.
Each of us had a nickname. I was known as the bogeyman. I had no feelings and I struck where it hurt the most.
I liked my nickname, and I intended to live up to every single letter of it.
End of sample chapter
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