Gods & Monsters

by Saffron A Kent

  That’s when I get it. Blu is a model, someone Ethan met at his job. And she was here to have sex with him. That’s it. That’s the whole secret. That explains the bathrobe now. She was probably naked underneath, waiting for Ethan but instead, found me.

  Now I feel bad for her. He should’ve told her that he wasn’t going to be here for their appointment. Who the hell calls it an appointment, by the way?

  Something about all of this looks fishy to me.

  “It was really nice to meet you,” she says again.

  “Yeah, same here.”

  “Listen, I know you’re new and I feel like we sort of started off on the wrong foot. But if you need help or anything, just let me know.”

  “Yeah. Okay, thanks.” She smiles and with a final nod, gets ready to leave, when I think of something. “Actually, can you tell me where I can buy a camera?”

  An hour later, equipped with directions from Blu, I venture outside on my own, carrying my backpack. There’s a store not far from here that will get me a nice, decent camera. I hope I find the one Abel likes and it fits in my budget because I only have a limited amount of money. It’s not my money, though. I took it from my mom’s purse the night I ran away.

  Yes, I stole the money.

  I was creeping down the stairs, trying not to make any noise, and then the lightning struck and spotlighted the purse sitting on the table in the foyer. I didn’t think, I simply acted. I reached out and took whatever money was in there.

  Twice now, Abel has lost his camera because of me. He lost his mom’s camera because he needed to buy me a phone, which I still carry with me. I couldn’t let him lose his second one that he bought with his own hard-earned money.

  Yeah, I stole. Burn me at the stake, if you want. It was my last fuck you to my parents and my very first attempt to care for my Abel.

  I find the store easily. It’s located only a block away from where we live. Over the years, Abel has chatted a lot about the cameras and their inner workings and whatnot so I’m pretty familiar with things. I pick out the one I know he loves but had an older version of: Canon EOS Rebel T6.

  After the purchase, I decide to explore the neighborhood a little. I know we’re not going to be living here long but still, this is my first day in a new city. Full disclosure, though: I’m not good with directions. At all. I get turned around easily and can’t figure out north and south and whatever. But I feel I’m going to be okay because look at the sheer amount of people in this place. I can easily ask someone if I get lost, right? Easy peasy. Besides, how am I supposed to find stories and adventure if I’m cooped up inside the apartment?

  I start walking and observing. The streets and the sidewalks I take are all super busy. Stores are practically crawling over each other. Thick streams of people flow and it’s hard to maneuver myself without bumping into anyone. Some streets are lined with black garbage bags and the pavement is littered with trash.

  But even then, I love the colors, the energy, the loud honking and unfamiliar syllables as people talk. I stop at a store that carries bright red hanging Chinese lanterns. Gosh, they are so pretty. I buy one for our room.

  I love the fact that here, people don’t look at other people. They don’t have the time. No one points at the two girls making out in the corner, by the lotto shop. Back in Prophetstown, those two girls would’ve been sent to confession with Father Knight. In fact, I don’t even think we have lesbians back home. Maybe we do but people simply don’t come out. I don’t blame them.

  My feet come to a stop when I stumble upon a help wanted sign on the glass door of one of the restaurants. I can’t read the name that’s written on the yellow awning, but I figure it won’t hurt to go inside and check it out.

  The man I meet with is a total grouch and he calls himself Milo. He’s tiny with harsh eyes and dark hair, and he’s looking for a waitress. He tells me he can’t hire me because I have zero experience. But I’m persistent. I feel like I need to do this, even though waitressing isn’t my dream job. I can’t have Abel doing everything. We’re a team now. And this is my first shot at independence – I can’t turn back without putting up a fight.

  Turns out, putting up a fight works because I come out of the restaurant with my very first job.

  I stand under the sunny sky and look up, smiling. Everything is perfect. And why wouldn’t it be? We’ve seen too much. We’ve suffered too much. It’s our time now. We deserve all the happiness in the world, don’t we?

  When I look down though, my breath gets caught. There, across from me, walking down the street is my dad. His dark hair stands out among the crowd, and he’s the only one wearing a plaid shirt. He hasn’t seen me yet but at the sight of him, a big pang hits my chest. My heart swells up, beating, beating, beating. I miss him. So much. I miss his kind face, his reassuring hand, and the fact that I came to love books and stories because he used to read to me when I was little.

  I take a step toward him before I gather myself. I can’t be missing him. I can’t be thinking about him. Look at what he did to me, to Abel. He’s not my father anymore. I can’t let him see me. How did he even find me?

  Just then he turns in my direction and I take off. I start running. I don’t know where I’m going or how I’m even making way for myself in the thick throng of people. All I know is that I need to get away, as far away as possible. I can’t go back. I can’t go back to that town. If they get ahold of me, they’ll never let me see Abel ever again. They’ll lock me up, lock him up even.

  Oh God. I can’t… I can’t let that happen.

  I don’t care what they do to me, but I’ll never let them touch my Abel again. They’ve already tortured him enough over the years. He doesn’t deserve any more crap. He doesn’t deserve to feel less than anyone, less than powerful. Because he is not.

  My vision is blurry and I’m panting, ready to collapse but somehow my anger and fear keep me upright. Until I crash into someone and bounce off, falling to the ground. The concrete hits my butt and whatever breath I had inside me coughs out.

  The person I’ve plowed into is a woman with gray hair and a laundry cart, whose stuff got thrown off because of the impact. It’s a wake-up call, this smash. It’s like I can breathe again after the initial loss of air. It wasn’t my dad, I realize. It wasn’t. The man who looked like him was much younger. His hair was dark like my dad’s but it wasn’t peppered with gray. My dad’s hair has threads of silver in it, not to mention he is much taller than the man I saw on the street.

  God, I’m such a wimp.

  I wipe off my tears and get up, groaning, and help the lady. She’s grumbling something in what I assume is Mandarin and when all her stuff is back in, she throws me a glare and walks off.

  Great. Just great.

  When will I realize that I’m free? That I got away. I did. I’m here now. I’m with Abel, and soon we’ll be married. Once we are, no one can tear us apart. I twist the ring on my finger, missing him with an ache.

  I just want to touch him once, make sure that this is real and things will be okay.

  Maybe he knows that already. Maybe he can feel how much I miss him because my tiny flip phone starts ringing and it’s him.

  “Abel?” I pant into the phone. Damn it. I need to control myself. I don’t want to sound all whiny.

  There’s a beat of silence. “Pixie. W-what’s wrong?”

  I puff out a breath and press a hand to my chest, trying to calm my heartbeats. “Nothing.”

  Way to sound convincing.

  He growls. Of course he does. He’s caught on. “Pixie, what’s wrong? Where the fuck are you?”

  “At home.”

  “Pixie,” he warns.

  I cringe at my lack of lying skills, then look up, trying to read the signs. Nothing looks familiar. Well, it’s understandable; nothing in this city is familiar to me. But I don’t even think I’m in Chinatown anymore, or maybe I am; I can’t tell. When I thought about getting lost, I didn’t factor in the fact that I’d be dizzy a
nd panicked, and that my ability to read would be compromised.

  “I think I… I-I’m kinda lost.”

  “What? What the fuck are you talking about? How the hell are you lost?”

  “Ugh. I went for a walk. I just wanted to explore the neighborhood and…”

  “And what?”

  I swallow; I’m not going to tell him about my false alarm. It doesn’t matter now. My dad is not here. There’s no danger.

  “I think I just got turned around or something. But —”

  “Jesus Christ. Didn’t I tell you to stay put, Pixie? You know nothing about this city. You’ve got no clue where you’re going. You’re shit with directions. And you couldn’t —”

  “Can you stop being a jerk for a second?” I cut him off. “I can find my way home, okay? You don’t have to remind me how incapable I am.”

  Tears spring to my eyes at his harsh tone. I admit I’ve been stupid but I didn’t want to be shut inside four walls when I could go anywhere I want. No one’s telling me what to do, how to wear my hair, how to dress or when to come back home.

  Another growl. “Look at the signs. Tell me what street you’re on. There has to be something around you.”

  Sniffling, I look up again, this time with a calm breath. The sun’s rays pierce my eyes and I have to put up my free hand to block the glare. I spot a neon green sign that says Baxter Street with probably, its Chinese translation under it. Okay, so I’m still in Chinatown. “B-Baxter Street. I guess, I, um…” There’s a pole and a bench with people sitting on it, right across from where I’m leaning against the brick wall. “I think there’s a bus stop right by me.”

  “All right. Good. You stay right there. I’m coming to get you.”

  “You don’t have to come. I said I can —”

  “Pixie? Stay. Put.”

  The line goes dead and I fall back on the warm wall, wiping my tears off. I hate him for being so bossy. But I also love him for coming to get me.

  Oh, who the hell am I kidding? I just love him and right now, I want his arms around me. I want to forget what I saw, what my mind conjured up.

  I don’t know how much time has passed before I see Abel across the street. I stand up straight on tired and jittery legs, slinging the backpack up my shoulder. My relief is huge as I approach the crosswalk, standing directly in his line of sight.

  Abel looks mad. He’s the tallest and broadest guy in the crowd and he’s striding toward me with single-minded purpose, even though it’s not his turn to cross the street.

  I notice a yellow cab hurtling toward him and I shake my head, call out his name, tell him to go back. But he doesn’t listen. He keeps walking, like it’s the cab — the metal box riding at a high velocity — that should be afraid of his muscles and bones.

  The taxi sails past him, almost grazing his jeans, honking like crazy, when he reaches me. He’s totally unfazed by the fact that something could’ve happened to him just now. That he could’ve been run over.

  My heart’s slamming, pounding, pushing against my ribcage, and I do the same. I push against Abel’s chest with all my might, with all the force inside me.

  “Are you insane? What’s wrong with you? You could’ve died,” I scream. “What were you thinking?”

  His nostrils are flaring as he looks down at me, all angry and furious. He grabs my biceps and hauls me to his chest, smashing our bodies together, making them clash, making it hurt. “I was thinking that my Pixie was in danger. I was thinking that she was lost and afraid when I specifically told her to stay in the apartment.”

  I clench my teeth. “I was fine. I was handling it.”

  “Were you?” he growls. “Then why the fuck are your eyes red? Why the fuck were you crying?”

  “Are you seriously mad at me because I was crying?”

  He presses his forehead into mine, his fingers digging into my flesh. “No, I’m mad at you because after everything, every fucking thing, I’m still scared to lose you. I’m terrified to lose you and you just don’t care.”

  I shake my head at the agony in his voice. “Abel –”

  “You don’t get it, do you? You don’t understand what I went through, sitting in that jail cell, thinking I’d never get to see you again. Their fists didn’t hurt me as much as the mere thought of never seeing you. It burnt, Pixie. It fucking burnt.”

  His guttural voice brings my tears anew and I get up on his feet and wind my arms around his shoulders, making him my world. The rest is only a void. I don’t care for it.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper into his swollen, injured jaw.

  “Your dad came to me after they let me go in the middle of the night. I’d just stepped out and he was there. He told me that what I did with the camera, the pictures… He said if I really loved you, I would’ve never asked you to do that for me. That’s not noble. That’s not godly. He said that’s how monsters love. Monsters take and take, but what did I know. My parents had done the same thing. They didn’t think about anyone else but themselves. They gave in to their wrong desires.” He swallows, his red-rimmed eyes flicking all over my face. “He told me to leave you alone, leave the town. I don’t remember ever being that angry or that afraid. I was so fucking afraid, Pixie. You wanna know why?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I knew that if I left that town all alone, I’d never make it.”

  “Abel…” I gasp out his name, unable to form words, unable to form thoughts even.

  “I knew I’d die. I knew I’d let go of the wheel and slide off the road and hit a tree. Exactly like my parents did. I knew history would repeat itself if I never got to see you again.”

  I’m a blubbering mess but somehow I manage to say, “Just take me home, okay? Right now. Please.”

  Abel carries me home, my limbs wrapped around his large, muscled body.

  People might be giving us weird looks as we walk through the streets but I don’t care. I care about nothing but him and me. It’ll take me a long time to bounce back from his confession. I squeeze him every time I think of it. How weird is it that our thoughts were the same? The night I ran, I thought the same thing: I couldn’t let history repeat itself. I didn’t want to end up like my parents, and he was afraid he’d end up like his.

  I wonder how many sons and daughters carry the burden of their fathers. I wonder if we will pass on the same burdens to the children we have.

  My wayward thoughts go poof as soon as we enter the weird, mirror-plastered apartment. Abel kicks the door shut with a bang that jerks me. It sounds very much like the first sound he made when he crashed into my life, the slam of his truck door.

  A big bang.

  It makes my stomach clench and my heart beat faster, a lot faster. As he puts me down on the floor, I know what’s going to happen. With this big bang, I’ll no longer be mine. Not even a single part of me will belong to myself.

  I’ll be all his. Abel’s.

  It doesn’t scare me. I know I can handle him. I know I can lose myself in him without reservations. I’m ready. I’ve been ready for some time now.

  We stand in the middle of the living room, with Abel looking down at me, his hand in my hair, pulling my head back. I’m pressed against him, every hard edge of his body prodding into the soft edges of mine.

  I taste my heart on my tongue, beating wildly, madly, fearfully, as I put my hand on his jaw, tracing the same bruise again. I don’t know why that particular contusion bothers me so much. Could be because it’s bigger and swollen and the most painful looking.

  “You’re crazy, you know that, right? You can’t think like that. You can’t think about running your car into a tree or something.”

  He smiles, then. “You don’t need to feel sorry for me, Pixie. Not with what I’m about to do.”

  “What are you about to do?”

  Bending down, he licks the seam of my trembling lips. “I’m about to take that last part of you. I wish I was noble but I’m not. Not when it comes to you. I’m gonna make you mine and
be yours in the process.”

  I kiss him, lightly. “Take it. It’s yours anyway.”

  His lips swoop down on me, his kisses wet and urgent and smacking. There’s no finesse in them, only desperation. His hands are everywhere, on my waist, fisting my dress, pushing it up, grabbing my butt, kneading the flesh. I moan at how hard he squeezes me, how he rubs my core over his erection. But Abel needs more. More contact, more friction. Just more. So, he hauls me up by my butt and I wind my thighs around his waist.

  Panting, he breaks the kiss and just stares at me. He runs his long fingers right from my forehead down to my lips. I sigh under his touch, give into it, arching my neck.

  “How’d you get to be so pretty?” There’s awe in his voice that hits deep into my soul.

  “For you.”

  He plants a hard kiss on my mouth and carries me to the couch, and I pull at his hair. “Abel, let’s go to our room.”

  “No.”

  “What? We can’t do it in here. What if…” I trail off when he leans over and lays me down on the couch. I immediately try to get up but he’s over me in a flash.

  “What if what?”

  “What if Ethan comes home?”

  “What, then?”

  I push him off, or try to; he doesn’t budge. “He’ll see us.”

  “I’ve hidden my love for you for years, Pixie. What makes you think I care if he sees us or not? In fact, let the world see. Let the whole fucking universe see how much I love you.” He sucks on my lower lip. “And how I make you mine.”

  My eyes go big in shock even as an electric thrill races through me, dampening my panties. “Th-that’s crazy.” I don’t know how many times I’ve thought it or said it ever since I met Abel but holy cow, this is super crazy.

  “I know.” He rocks against me and I have no choice but to widen my legs to accommodate him. “Would you let me do that, though? Would you let me fuck you here, even though you know anyone could walk in on us?”