IMPERFECT MONSTER

by Jennifer Bene

  “Are you really going to let them do this?” I asked softly, and his boots crunched to a halt. The grit on the floor scratched as he turned towards me. I could feel his eyes boring into me, as intense as they’d been before everything had gone to hell.

  Nothing. There is nothing behind those eyes.

  No remorse. No concern. Nothing.

  He stayed silent as he marched towards the stairs, my lips parting to call after him, but I didn’t get a second glance as his booming steps moved upward. The hard clap of the hidden door was his answer and in a flash, my world collapsed.

  The others would come next, and Andre’s words came back like a curse: You’ll survive.

  As if I’d even want to when they were done.

  Seven

  Andre

  My heart pounded, body still humming from the argument, and I stayed in the kitchen to calm down. Unsteady for the first time in years.

  No one had ever affected me like Nicky Harris.

  The fucking innocent Valkyrie. Impossibly tempting. Impossibly sweet.

  Jesus Christ, you fucked her.

  Everything spun as I leaned my head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling like it could hold some answers. Back when I’d gone to church regularly like a good Catholic boy, I would have known the right prayers to say — not that God would listen to a monster like me. Especially not after what I’d just done.

  Wiping a hand over my face, the idea that had hit me downstairs grew stronger, and I knew I needed to be steady to make it happen. The bottle of rum I’d abandoned on the counter was still there, and I took a few swallows. Letting it wash the taste of Nicky from my tongue, even though nothing could touch the memory of her cunt squeezing me when I slid deep, the whimpers, the way her eyes clenched tight when she came.

  Shaking my head, I stepped into the bathroom in the hall and checked my reflection. Dark scruff on my cheeks, my black hair a touch longer than it should have been, and empty eyes. I always called Paulo the devil, but that was exactly what I looked like. Looking in the mirror was something I avoided for a reason, and this was why.

  I hated the man in the mirror as much as I hated Paulo.

  I wanted both of us to burn.

  The rum on my tongue wasn’t enough, and so I swallowed another mouthful, and then another, before I adjusted my clothes to look more presentable. I deserved hell, I deserved fire and damnation — but stupid, brave Nicky? She didn’t.

  Flipping the light off in the little bathroom, I avoided the mirror so I could face Paulo easier. There was laughter in the living room, jokes, but what had made me smile that morning now made me nauseous. Pushing all the bullshit away, I stood in the doorway, watching them. Marco was still in his chair, Paulo and José on opposite ends of the couch, and Diego was laid out on the other sofa, head propped up on the armrest.

  Grow some balls, cabrón.

  “Jefe.” I raised my voice just enough to be heard over the surround sound, but all four heads turned to me.

  “What is it, cuadro? Come to join us?” Paulo was smiling, deep into his own bottle of rum, but there was still nothing real behind the tilt of his lips.

  “I need to speak with you.” The seriousness of my voice perked his ears and he sat up completely, dropping the smile like he’d never even attempted it.

  “Problem?”

  “I hope not, jefe.”

  He stood without another question. One benefit to always doing what Paulo García commanded was that he tended to listen when I spoke — mostly because I never did. Unfortunately, the same was not true for Diego.

  “You all done?” Diego asked, swinging his legs to sit up on the couch, and his grin left no questions as to his thoughts.

  “No. I’m not.” I could hear the tinge of rage in my voice just remembering his hands on Nicky, the darkness bubbling down deep where she’d pushed it with all her sweetness.

  Paulo caught the edge in my tone as well, and his gaze landed on me as he stopped in front of me. “My office?”

  “Lead the way, jefe.” I waited for Paulo to start walking, keeping my eyes on Diego until he muttered under his breath and dropped back onto the couch. Only then did I follow, trying to organize my thoughts, which were way too fucking scattered to be facing off with the devil himself.

  Soon enough we were taking up the same positions we had earlier, only this time it was a bottle of rum in my hand instead of tequila, and there was plenty left. Paulo gestured towards me as he got comfortable leaning against his desk. “Well?”

  “I want the girl.” The words left my mouth too quickly, and Paulo’s lips twitched.

  “Then go have her.”

  Fingering the bottle in my hand, I shrugged, mimicking one of his colder smiles. “I already did.”

  A chuckle was his only answer for a moment. “I see.” Paulo crossed his arms, evaluating me with those coal black eyes. “You know, cuadro, I was starting to think you were some kind of maricón. You never touch the girls that come here.”

  “I’m no maricón, jefe. I don’t fuck men.” The insult made me twitch, but I kept the rum at my side.

  He shrugged a shoulder, not seeming to care either way. “So, if you’ve already fucked her, what more do you want?”

  “I don’t want to share her.” I let the disgust show on my face. “I’m not interested in having her after Diego is done.”

  Paulo only nodded, resting his palms back on the smooth surface of his desk. “And what about me?”

  My stomach twisted, but I forced my expression to stay blank. “Do you want her, jefe?”

  “I might, but tell me what your offer is, cuadro. I’m listening.” The man looked at me like we were discussing the weather and not the body of a young woman trapped in his fucking basement.

  “You said she still owes five grand. I’ll cover it in exchange for not having to share her.”

  Paulo clicked his tongue, shaking his head slowly. “You don’t touch a single girl in front of us, in all the time I’ve known you, but this girl you want to pay five thousand dollars for? Why?”

  “She sounds pretty when she cries, and even better when she screams.” Not a lie.

  Black eyes glittered at my words, and Paulo leaned forward slightly. “Did you make her scream, cuadro?”

  “More than once.” I shrugged, ignoring the twist in my stomach. “She reminds me of my neighbor growing up. I used to make her scream too.”

  Real laughter came from him then, not the friendly kind he’d been choking out with the others — no, this was sinister, twisted, soft. “This is why I like you, Andre. You don’t hide the monster within, you don’t put on some sheen of civility for the bastards.”

  “No, jefe. I don’t see the point.”

  “There is no point in hiding who we truly are, it always comes out in the end.” Paulo clapped his hands together and walked to the small liquor stand stuck between two bookshelves. “She’s yours, just give me the money in the morning. Now, we should drink. Good stuff, not that rum, put it on the desk.”

  I obeyed, like I always did, and waited for him to hand me a crystal glass filled with the amber tequila of Casa Herradura, the Seleccion Suprema was one of the bottles he kept in here. Away from the open bar in the front rooms. “Gracias, jefe.” Inclining my head towards him as he lifted his glass.

  “To your new belleza.” He clinked his glass against mine, and then continued. “All I ask is that if you kill her, you handle it away from my home.”

  Something swished through the darkness inside me, hungry, itching at my skin to be released — but it wasn’t aimed at Nicky, it was focused on Paulo. I wanted to break the crystal glass and slice his throat open with it. Watch his pale shirt and linen pants get soaked with his blood. Beat his face in while he was still choking for air. Ruin him in his last moments as much as he’d ruined me.

  Instead, I nodded.

  “Of course, jefe. When I’m done with her, I’ll handle it.” We drank then, peaceful sharks drowning our appetit
es in tequila. Very expensive tequila, because I couldn’t deny how good it tasted, but as much as I wanted to blame all my shit on Paulo García, I knew that was pointless. I’d made all my choices, for all my own reasons, and as bitter as my past tasted… at least I had Nicky now.

  But what the fuck am I going to do with her?

  “I need to tell the others. Diego was quite frustrated that you interrupted him.”

  I almost choked on the tequila, but managed to swallow it down, offering my empty glass to Paulo with a steady hand. “He got in my way.”

  “So, you did go downstairs to find her.”

  “I told you earlier that I’d keep her, jefe.”

  He plucked the glass from my hand and set them both on his desk for the cleaning crew in the morning. “Well, she’s yours now, cuadro. But, maybe I will have some fun with her too?”

  Paulo smiled as he passed me, heading for the door, but I couldn’t even muster a response. Just the idea of him between her thighs, his hands on her — it made my mind bloody with visions of destruction. The things I wanted to do to him for all of his sins.

  But I wasn’t going to do anything.

  I snagged the rum before I followed him. The football game was still on when we came back to the room, and Paulo headed towards the couch calmly. “What’s the score?”

  “Twenty-seven to twenty-four. Is everything okay, jefe?” José glanced back at me for a second, before returning his gaze to Paulo.

  “It’s all good. The girl belongs to Andre, no one touches her, understand?” It was cold, quick, to the point, and even though the others glanced at me, no one spoke a word against Paulo.

  A chorus of, “Yes, jefe,” echoed around the room, and I felt the darkness calm a little. Diego was furious, taking a long draw on the Corona in his hands, but I didn’t give a shit.

  I had to get back downstairs.

  My feet carried me back to the hidden door, and when I popped it open I expected to find her waiting at the bottom of the stairs, a ball of tears or fury — instead, it was empty and quiet. Moving down slowly, I hit the concrete and started to turn when something sharp was pressed to my throat.

  “Move, and I’ll kill you.”

  “Really?” I asked, looking over at her. Her blonde hair was a wrecked halo in the buzzing, yellow light of the storage room. My bite marks showed red and splotchy on her skin, purple in places where bruises promised.

  “Yes. I won’t let them have me. I’ll kill all of you if I have to.” Her voice was meant to be strong, but she wavered on the last bit, losing her confidence. It was almost cute how brave she was — still so stupid considering I could break her arm in an instant… but cute. When I didn’t even flinch, she seemed to lose more of her nerve, but then she spoke again. “Or I’ll kill myself. But I—”

  Grabbing the arm holding the broken edge of a ceramic vase, I spun her away from me, twisting her wrist until the sharp little fragment fell to the floor and she yelped in pain.

  Fuck, I love that sound.

  I shoved her forward until she was pressed to the wall by the stairs, one of my hands keeping her wrist twisted, and the other in the center of her back, holding her in place. She was whining, all her bravado melting away in a series of muttered curses.

  “None of them will touch you, and you will not kill yourself.”

  Nicky went rigid against the wall, the muscles in her back tensing, and that was when I noticed she’d restored her clothes and her shoes. “What?”

  “You’re mine now. Paulo agreed to it.” I couldn’t resist pressing myself against her back, so much smaller than me, so fragile. A little bit of innocence, caught amidst the monsters — at least for a little while longer. Running my lips across the side of her neck, I smiled when she angled her head away to give me access. “Which means you are not allowed to hurt yourself, do you understand?”

  “How am I yours?” she whispered, and my cock twitched.

  “I paid for you. The five grand your brother still owed.” My tongue flicked out to taste her skin, but she jerked away from me, tucking her head to block my access, and I growled.

  “That doesn’t make me yours, that makes me in debt to you.”

  “And how the fuck do you think I want to claim that debt?” I couldn’t stop myself, grinding my slowly hardening cock against her ass, and when she tried to rip her hand from mine I squeezed hard enough for her to whimper. I already wanted her again.

  “I have to leave, I need to—”

  “You need to shut up. We need to go upstairs to my room, and I’d prefer it if you didn’t attract any more attention from Diego.” It was cruel, but I forced her head to the side so I could press my lips against her ear. “Unless you want me to withdraw my offer and let him have you?”

  “NO!” Her panicked cry woke my cock up the rest of the way, and I contemplated tearing her shorts back off to fuck her against the wall. Take her ass with the last condom in my pocket, but there would be time for that after I made contact.

  “Then will you behave on the way upstairs, or do I need to haul you over my shoulder?” The picture was something I wasn’t opposed to, even if it would be exhausting carrying her up all those stairs, and it would definitely attract attention. Still, having her struggling form completely under my control was… tempting.

  “I’ll go with you.” Her quick acceptance ruined the ideas in my head, but it opened up the door for a lot more. So many things I could do to her while everyone figured out how to handle the situation.

  Shifting my hand into her hair, I made a fist at the base of her skull, the hiss of air between her teeth telling me it stung. “Same rules as before, you’ve got to cry. Make it believable.”

  “Going to fuck me again?” she muttered through clenched teeth as we started up the stairs, and I laughed low, knowing I wouldn’t be able to resist with her body in my bed. No use fighting the temptation when I was already damned.

  And I’ve done my good deed for the year.

  “I think you want me to fuck you again, belleza. You made the best sounds the first time.” That shut her up, and as we left the storage room I clicked the hidden panel back into place, pushing her through the kitchen so I could grab my rum off the counter. Everything was good until we got to the base of the stairs. It was the sudden shudder of Nicky’s shoulders that alerted me to the fact that something was off.

  Diego.

  He was lurking near the bottom step, eyes devouring her curves. “Going to share?” he asked, and I stared at him as I shoved Nicky onto the first step, where she whimpered like I’d told her to, or she was actually terrified.

  “You remember what I did to that fucker who stole cash from Paulo’s storehouse?”

  “She’s not worth half a million, Andre,” Diego spat.

  “That’s not what I asked you, cuadro. Do you remember?” I shifted my body until I was between him and Nicky, so that his eyes had to meet mine — and I saw the recognition in them.

  “I remember… no need to threaten me with that shit. After all, there’s plenty of pussy around. I’ll get mine.” Diego shrugged and stepped back, moving towards the hall. “Buenos noches.”

  Ignoring his attempt to pacify me, I shoved Nicky up another step, catching her arm so she had to follow me. Down the right hall, I pulled a key from my front pocket and unlocked my room. As soon as we were inside, she stood right behind me as I flipped the deadbolt, and then locked the rest I’d installed that had no external access.

  “You’re safe in here,” I muttered, and then shrugged as I met her wide blue eyes. “Well, safe from everyone but me. Now, go sit down on the bed and shut up. I need to handle something.”

  “Andre?” The way she said my name made my cock twitch, and I growled because I really did have shit I needed to do before I took her in a bed.

  “What did I say?”

  Nicky made a face at me, but she moved towards the king-sized bed and dropped onto the edge of it, her feet dangling as she watched me, but I couldn’t
keep looking at her. Not with my dick pressed against my zipper, begging to get wet again, to make her scream again. Stalking to my desk, I slammed the rum down, flipped open the laptop, and typed in a web address I had long-ago memorized.

  “Porn?” she asked, her voice irritated, and I glanced back to see her twisting so she could see my screen.

  Ignoring her, I passed over the various videos on the screen and clicked the contact feature on the page, typing in my normal phrase. Barely a minute later my cell phone buzzed in my pocket and I answered fast. “Hello.”

  “Hello, sir, you requested a customer service call. What seems to be the problem?”

  “I placed an order.”

  “For what?” the calm voice on the other side asked.

  “Forty-two credits, yesterday.”

  “One moment.” As the voice paused, I heard the huff from Nicky, but I kept my eyes on the screen. I needed to focus. “Can you verify the last four of your credit card?”

  “Two-seven-nine-nine.”

  “Please hold.” There was actual hold music for about thirty seconds, and then I heard the clicking of the routing, and then Nathan’s voice came on. My handler. My lifeline to the real world.

  “You there, Andre?”

  “Yeah.” Relief washed over me, and for an instant I felt normal, even though everything about my life was so far from normal that it was a fucking joke. It had been too long. “I’ve got a problem.”

  “Give me your codes.”

  “Bravo. Zulu. Charlie. Quebec.”

  “Must not be that big of a problem for you to be bothering me with no emergency. What’s up?” Nathan dropped the formality and I could hear him settle into wherever he was sitting. Probably at home with his family, bored in his suburban oasis. Fucker. “Line is secure, but you know we have to keep this short, so hurry.”

  “There’s a girl here.”