Sir’s Rise

by Red Phoenix

  The Russian slams his fist into his palm. “Do not worry, comrade. My charge will be protected.”

  “Anderson, as you know, the timing of the call is vital and you must sound convincing. If the cops suspect she’s been set up, I could be the one going to jail today.”

  “Not going to happen, buddy. I got this.”

  I’m confident in both men, and I trust Samantha to keep her promise not to intervene. The only unknown is the Beast herself, and I know from personal experience how treacherous she can be.

  Despite my best efforts to hold the memory back, an overwhelming feeling of dread paralyzes me as I recall running up the stairs to my parent’s bedroom…

  I burst into the room and instantly stop in my tracks when I see my father pointing a gun directly at my mother.

  She’s lying in their bed—in the arms of another man.

  My father vacillates between pointing the gun at her and at the boy toy who seems frozen with fear.

  With a voice full of pain, my father asks her, “Why?”

  She glares at him as if the circumstances have been reversed and she is the one who has been betrayed. Rather than answer, my mother says nothing. She acts as if the question doesn’t even rate a response.

  “Papà…” I choke out, fighting the painful lump growing in my throat.

  When he looks in my direction, the raw devastation I see in his eyes chills me to the bone. If only I had warned him about her, this wouldn’t be happening.

  My father’s hands tremble as he keeps the gun pointed at his wife, looking as if he’s about to shoot her. But then, after several tense moments, he slowly lowers the gun and confesses to her, “I could never shoot you.”

  “Why? Because you love me, Alonzo?” she scoffs. “I don’t love you. I never have…”

  He stares at her in silence with tears in his eyes.

  My mother remains unaffected and growls in irritation. “Enough with the dramatics.” Her face slowly transforms into something truly terrifying as her lips curl into a cruel smile. She challenges him in an icy voice ripe of disdain, “Go ahead. Pull the trigger and end this charade for both of us.”

  I can’t breathe when my father turns toward me. “I’m sorry, son.”

  Before I can move, he puts the gun to his head and pulls the trigger.

  I scream in horror as I watch his body fall limply to the floor. Running to him, I cradle his head in my lap, ignoring the gushing blood and fragments of bone as I beg him to hold on.

  “Call the fucking ambulance!” I yell at my mother.

  When I look back and see his eyes blink, I feel a moment of hope. “Papà, you’ve got to hang on until the ambulance gets here. You’re going to be okay.”

  But, all that blood scares me…

  His gaze starts drifting slowly around the room until it finally locks on me. “Thane…” He blinks several more times, his breaths becoming slower and fainter.

  He’s leaving me, and there is nothing I can do about it.

  “Don’t die, Papà. I need you.”

  My father’s gaze remains on me. “Ti amo,” he whispers.

  I can’t hold back the sob when I answer, “I love you, too.”

  “I’m sorry, son…” He continues to stare up at me as his life slowly ebbs away. His body suddenly stiffens, and I hear the horrifying sound of the death rattle as my father takes his final breath.

  At the young age of fifteen, I watch helplessly as the light disappears from my father’s eyes.

  Before the appointed time, the three of us take our positions and wait for Samantha to arrive. She comes early, sitting down at the designated bench.

  To keep up the ruse of her fragile state, Samantha keeps looking around nervously and dabbing her eyes as if she’s crying.

  My mother, ever the control freak, arrives fifteen minutes late. I suspect she’s been scoping out the area to make sure there aren’t any surprises waiting for her, but she has no idea who she is dealing with.

  I’m no longer the hurt little boy she abandoned years ago. No, I am every bit as dangerous as she is.

  When the Beast finally shows herself, I’m struck by the fact that she is just as beautiful as I remember. I hate that she appears to be thriving, despite causing her husband’s suicide and abandoning her only son soon after it.

  I let my growing anger add fuel to the fire.

  The Beast approaches the bench wearing a smug look on her face, confident in her power over Samantha. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but wait patiently until I get the signal.

  While Samantha keeps the Beast occupied with her tearful confessions, I walk up unnoticed, my heart beating rapidly as I approach.

  I never thought I would see this woman again—and now I am about to look the Beast in the eye. Although it pains me to say the word aloud, I call out, “Mother.”

  I see her back stiffen before she slowly turns to face me. She forces a smile, but it’s not lost on me that her eyes remain cold and distant even though the tone of her voice is warm. “Thane, I’ve missed you.”

  Her eyes dart around, however, when she realizes she has been set up. I enjoy seeing her squirm for once.

  She looks back at Samantha and asks accusingly, “Did you know he was coming?”

  Samantha stares at me as if she’s truly terrified. “No!” She looks at my mother in desperation. “How did he find us? Please, Ruth, you have to protect me from your son.”

  Samantha’s acting is convincing, leaving my mother unsure and confused. She turns back to me, faking a calm demeanor. “I’m surprised to see you here. Especially, after you’ve avoided me the last few years.”

  I say nothing, but smile at her with the same cruel smile she gave my father when she told him to pull the trigger.

  A son never forgets.

  Keeping up the ruse as Samantha’s defender, my mother demands, “Why have you been harassing this girl? It’s disgusting and indefensible.”

  “I like hurting people, Mother. It’s the only joy I have in the world.”

  She looks me up and down, and I note with satisfaction the fear in her eyes.

  “Don’t play games with me.”

  “I don’t play games,” I answer, my eyes reflecting the violence I’ve longed to inflict on her. “You didn’t realize your little boy is all grown up now. And I’ve had years to fantasize about what I would do when I saw you again.”

  I notice Samantha shifting uncomfortably on the bench. She had no idea she would be coming face to face with this side of me.

  “Thane, stop this,” the Beast demands. Turning to Samantha for sympathy, she cries, “I told you he was dangerous.”

  Samantha says nothing.

  As I take a step toward my mother, I’m gratified to see her instinctually take a step back.

  I am in control here.

  For the first time in her life, the Beast knows real fear.

  “I’m glad you’ve made this easy for me, Mother.”

  “What do you mean?” she barks, trying to cover her fear with anger.

  “Who would blame you? A mother who lost her husband to suicide because she was caught in bed fucking another man might suddenly feel the weight of his death on her soul.”

  “Liar!” She turns to Samantha. “He’s a goddamn liar!”

  “Maybe that same woman can’t stand the sight of herself knowing that she abandoned her only son after his death because she would rather fuck other men than be a mother.”

  “Don’t twist what happened. You father was the whore, not me…”

  “So, after living with that guilt for years, she finally realizes there’s only one way to make it right.”

  I move in closer as I say, “Taking the knife, she vows to make things right and cuts her veins so all that bad blood can run out.”

  My mother snarls. “I am not a coward like your father. I would never kill myself.”

  “Maybe it isn’t the mother who makes things right…maybe it’s the son who helps her do the r
ight thing.”

  Her face goes completely white.

  “I have a knife waiting for you.”

  She stares at me, trying desperately to read my face for any indication that I’m bluffing. But I’m fully committed to my role, remembering what it was like when I saw the light die in my father’s eyes.

  I can see her survival instincts kicking in—it’s either kill or be killed.

  She pulls out a gun from her purse.

  The blood starts pumping through my veins. My only goal now is to keep her focused on me to protect Samantha.

  Pointing the gun at my chest, she says, “As you can clearly see, Samantha, my life is being threatened. I have no other choice but to protect myself.”

  Samantha remains silent, her eyes fixed on the gun.

  I smile again, looking deep into my mother’s eyes. “Do you see how much I hate you, Mother?”

  Her hand starts trembling, so she grasps the gun with both hands trying to keep it steady.

  I slowly raise my hands in surrender. What makes me dangerous is that I don’t care if she shoots, and she can sense that.

  “Go ahead, Mother.”

  “All I wanted was to have my son back. But you…you’ve turned into a monster.”

  “Yes, Mother. I’ve turned into you.”

  Curling her upper lip in disgust, she takes aim. “No. You’re as weak as your fath—”

  “This is the police. Put the gun down now!” The sound of guns being cocked fills the air around us.

  Unlike me, the Beast is afraid to die, and I watch with gratification as she drops the gun and it clatters onto the cement.

  The police move in quickly, patting her down before forcing her hands behind her back to handcuff her.

  I slowly lower my hands, not quite believing it’s worked.

  After patting me down and finding no weapons, the police officer asks if I’m okay. I nod in answer, but look at Samantha and ask him to check on my friend.

  As I watch the Beast being led away in handcuffs, I feel a profound sense of justice.

  Once everyone is gone and we’re alone again, Samantha holds her hand out to me. “You were brilliant, Thane. That speech you gave your mother had me covered in goosebumps.”

  I deflect her compliment, not wanting to acknowledge that side of myself. “You were convincing, Samantha—and exceedingly brave.”

  “When the police arrived and she was pointing the gun at you with your hands up, that was the perfect setup. But, I have to admit…I was terrified for you.”

  To ease her mind, I lie. “She only carries the gun for show.”

  “Well, it was an honor to help take the bitch down.”

  Shaking her hand firmly, I tell her with deep gratitude, “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  I remain behind after she leaves, wanting to talk to Anderson and Durov, who’ve remained in hiding.

  Durov walks out first, clapping his hands loudly. “That was a beautiful thing to watch.”

  Anderson follows behind, adding, “I’m fucking impressed, Davis. It played out exactly the way you said it would.”

  I grin with satisfaction, exhilarated by our successful mission, as I shake both their hands. “With you guys behind me, the Beast never stood a chance.”

  Durov, ever the Casanova, raises an eyebrow. “Moy droog, why did you not tell me your friend is incredibly beautiful?”

  “Oh, so now you want to meet Samantha?” I ask, chuckling.

  He shakes his head. “If she’s still training as a Dominant, there would be no point. I refuse to be topped.”

  “You never know…you might like it,” Anderson jokes.

  Durov throws his head back, laughing. “Nyet. This Russian submits to no one.”

  Brush with Fate

  Now that the Beast is gone, I can finally focus on the semester finals looming ahead. Unfortunately, my concentration has suffered since she re-entered my life, so I must double up my efforts.

  “Buddy, you’re worrying me again.”

  “How so?” I ask, looking up from my textbook.

  “You haven’t left this room all week. It’s like we’re back to the beginning of the school year.”

  “You can thank my mother for that,” I grumble as I return my attention to my Economics textbook.

  “How about we spend tonight at the dungeon? Give that big brain of yours a rest?”

  “No. I still have a paper to finish, and I’ll need to pull an all-nighter.”

  Staring at the half-eaten apple on my desk, he shakes his head. “I bet you haven’t been eating, either.”

  “Food is a time-waster, but I promise to stuff my face once finals are over.” I look up from my textbook. “What I really need right now is peace and quiet so I can prepare for the exam today.”

  He tsks at me. “By those dark circles under your eyes, I’d say you need a week’s worth of rest and relaxation.”

  I growl in frustration. “What do I have to do to get you to shut up? I just told you I need to study.”

  He points at me and smiles. “You’re cranky because you need to eat.”

  I snarl. “I’m cranky because you won’t shut the fuck up.”

  Anderson chuckles. “I know you’ve looked over that textbook three times already. There isn’t any new information that’s going to magically appear.”

  “I can’t afford not to do well on the exam. My grade is hinging on a top score.”

  “I know what will guarantee the excellent score you seek.”

  I’m not amused and glare at him, realizing he isn’t going to leave me alone.

  “If you go into that test without eating, all your hard work and study have been for nothing.” He walks over and closes my textbook. “So come with me and let’s get something for lunch.”

  “I don’t have time.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “You don’t have the time not to.”

  With all this talk of food, my stomach betrays me by growling.

  “See?” he states smugly.

  “Will you shut up the rest of the week if I have lunch with you now?”

  “Sure.”

  “Fine!” I growl angrily, standing up. Naturally, my stomach starts aching with hunger as if to prove Anderson right. “Let’s get this over with.”

  I assume we’re headed to the cafeteria where I can grab a sandwich and another apple before heading back to the dorm, but Anderson walks to the bus stop, instead.

  “I don’t have time for this.”

  He puts his hand on my shoulder. “You need to nourish that body with wholesome food like my mama cooks. This place isn’t far, and you’re going to thank me for it later. Trust me.”

  I would have bailed, but the damn bus pulls up so I reluctantly get on and sit down. Luckily, it’s a straight shot, and fifteen minutes later Anderson gets of the bus, pointing out the diner to me. I’m immediately assaulted by delicious smells as I follow him into the restaurant, and the ache in my stomach triples in intensity. I slide into the nearest booth and grab a menu.

  “You can’t go wrong with a chicken fried steak,” Anderson tells me. “But I personally recommend the chicken and waffles.”

  I look at him skeptically. “That’s an odd combination.”

  “I know. Thought the same thing. But it’s a popular southern dish and, damn, it’s good.”

  I suspect Anderson isn’t suggesting, but telling me what I will be ordering for lunch. However, at this point, I don’t care because the hunger pains are getting worse.

  Thankfully, the waitress is quick to take our order.

  While we wait, I look around the diner and notice a number of older folk reading newspapers, along with several families enjoying lunch together. One of the kids stands out because the girl with pigtails and a polka-dot dress is laughing for no apparent reason. When the father catches me looking in their direction, he glares at me.

  I turn back to Anderson as ask, “When’s the food getting here?”

  “Hold y
our horses. We just ordered. Here, have a packet of sugar to tide you over,” he says, throwing one at me.

  “Very funny…”

  I look down at the packet, however, half-tempted to open it and pour the sugar into my mouth. I have to resist the urge until my plate of food arrives.

  The savory smell of the fried chicken has my mouth watering. But then Anderson has the nerve to pour maple syrup over it.

  “What the hell?”

  The father who was glaring at me barks from his booth, “Language!”

  I hold my hand up to let him know it won’t happen again, then growl at Anderson, “Why did you ruin my chicken by covering it in syrup?”

  “Just take a bite.”

  With my stomach growling, I bite into the flesh, appreciating the satisfying crunch of the skin. Oddly, the sweetness of the maple syrup complements the savory aspect of the chicken. Although I like it, I give him a look of disgust. “Thanks for ruining my meal.”

  Anderson grins as he watches me devour the entire meal in a matter of minutes. “Yeah, I can see how much I ruined it for you.”

  I sit back in my seat, my stomach full and satisfied.

  As I watch Anderson slowly consume his meal, I feel a tug of remorse. “Look, I know I give you no end of crap, but I appreciate how you look out for me.”

  Anderson reaches over and ruffles my hair. “You’re like the nerdy kid brother I never had.”

  I chuckle. “Even though the semester’s not over, I think it’s fair to say you’ve won our bet.”

  He looks at me, stunned. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. I concede there’s a life beyond college and getting my degree.”

  He gives me a half-grin. “You want to know something funny?”

  “Sure.”

  “The last few weeks when I said I was out ‘partying,’ I was actually in the library studying. I just didn’t want you to know.”

  “It’s not possible,” I laugh. “I know you’re playing me right now.”

  “I’m completely serious, man. Turns out that when I apply myself, I’m actually good with numbers.” He shrugs. “In fact, I’ve already looked into taking that Applied Calculus class next semester.”