Sweet Destruction

by Paige Weaver

  Looking back at Sam, I found her watching me, her eyes staring at my bloody hands with fear and hate combined.

  “She okay?” Tommy asked from behind me.

  “Yeah,” I answered, my eyes on Sam. She was more than okay; she was great. Fearing me was for the best. At least that’s what I told myself, but it hurt, yanking my beating heart out of my chest.

  I glanced up, searching for Bentley. The best thing for Sam right now was her brother. He would take care of her like I couldn’t. And I needed to make sure he was okay. But suddenly the sound of sirens filled the air. Blue and red lights flashed from in front of my house, filling the darkness with color.

  “Oh, fuck! The cops!” someone yelled, running past me.

  Sam shot to her feet, her eyes darting around. I saw fear on her face and could hear her breathing hard. Around me people ran, trying to get away before the cops found them. I stood up and grabbed Sam’s hand, ignoring her squeal of protest. She fell against my chest but I caught her, keeping both of us on our feet. I heard yelling and saw flashlight beams bouncing across the yard but I ignored them. I focused on Sam, looking down into her eyes.

  “I know you don’t fucking trust me right now, but for once in your life you’re going to,” I said. When she didn’t argue, I turned. Tommy stood nearby, watching as the cops ran into the yard.

  “Tommy, take her!” I shouted, thrusting Sam at him.

  He caught her easily. “Where’re you going?” he shouted, backing up with Sam.

  “Just get her out of here. I’m not leaving Bentley,” I answered, walking backwards.

  Tommy nodded and turned, taking Sam with him. I watched as they left, other people running around them to escape.

  I was still standing there, watching as they disappeared, when someone shoved me down hard.

  I landed in the mud, whacking my chin on the ground. The mud felt cold beneath me, wet. I felt that inner rage explode, needing out. I put my hands on either side of me, ready to jump to my feet and add more blood to my hands. But I never got a chance.

  My arms were yanked behind my back. Black shoes appeared on either side of my body, keeping me pinned to the ground.

  “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you, asshole?”

  I turned my head, peering at the cop behind me as he slapped handcuffs on my wrist. “Shit,” I swore, seeing who it was.

  Mick Rodriguez, or Pam Man to Sam and Bent, hauled me to my feet, using the handcuffs to jerk me up. They bit into my wrist but I knew he didn’t give a damn. The guy was a royal motherfucker.

  “That’s right, son. Shit. It’s what you’re in and what you are,” he said, giving me a push to start walking.

  I fell forward but caught myself. My eyes scanned the yard, looking for Bentley. Two cops were standing over the guy that had been beating him, guns drawn as another cop slapped handcuffs on the motherfucker. The douchebag I laid into was conscious but his hands were handcuffed behind his back. I was happy to see that his nose was swollen and his face was a patchwork of cuts, bruises, and splatters of blood. When his eyes met mine I snarled, remembering him hitting Sam. I felt my control slipping, the thirst to hurt him almost too much to handle.

  “Start moving, bitch,” Mick said, pushing me hard. Only a dirty cop would talk that way to a perp and this guy was nothing but the dirtiest of them all.

  I headed for the front of the house, knowing I had no choice. I was going to jail. Somewhere I seemed to live a lot lately. My dad was going to kill me but who cared? I was already a loser in his book anyway.

  Mick steered me to one of the patrol cruisers sitting in front of the driveway. He opened the back door and started to push me into the seat when he paused, his eyes on something down the road. I followed his gaze. He was staring at Sam and Bentley’s house.

  “That little girl home?”

  His voice left me cold. It was full of too much interest and slimy curiosity. I felt rage so strong, I almost screamed. Instead I shrugged my shoulders, appearing bored. “I have no fucking idea.”

  He glanced at me, a dirty scowl crossing his face. “You been drinking, boy?” he asked, taking a deep whiff of me.

  “What do you think?” I snarled, looking down my nose at him.

  I saw him bristle up like a damn porcupine. He could kiss my…

  Without warning, he shoved me up against the car, pushing the side of my face into the hood roughly.

  “You listen to me, boy. Your sorry ass is mine, got it? I got the goods on you so you’re going to jail for a long, long time. And when you get out, I’ll be all over your ass again, waiting for you to fuck up.”

  With each word he pressed my cheek harder into the car’s roof until I thought my teeth would cut into my mouth.

  “And just remember this,” he added. “While you’re sitting in that jail cell rotting, I’ll be here. Watching over little Samantha. Taking care of her.”

  Rage exploded in me. I swung my head back, hitting him squarely in the nose with my skull. He screamed and fell backwards, blood gushing everywhere. Two officers jumped me, taking me down to the pavement.

  An hour later I sat in a jail cell, my face in my hands, assault charges hanging over my head. My body shook, the need for alcohol leaving me feeling empty. I wanted the numbness back, the one that made me forget what kind of person I was. What kind of person Sam had seen.

  As I waited in the holding cell, I felt my life crumbling down around me. My inner demon had showed itself, proving to Sam just how screwed up I really was. I had just confirmed everything she said.

  I was nothing.

  Nothing but a monster.

  Chapter Nine

  -Sam-

  Now

  Days after I stood on the porch and watched Walker drive past my house, I was still thinking of him. Sure, we hated each other and probably always would but there was a part of me that was intrigued by him. I guess I was still that little girl, curious about that mysterious, angry boy who lived down the street.

  Or maybe I was that teenager, receiving her first kiss from him. If I closed my eyes, I could still feel his hand on my stomach, caressing me as we stood in his bedroom. I could still taste his lips against mine, showing me what to do. That night all the hate between us had disappeared – at least for a few moments. But then the dream was destroyed by blood and fighting. Screams and sirens. What should have been a memorable experience turned into one of sheer horror. Bentley was beaten and I had to spend the rest of the night at the county hospital, watching as he received stitches. Walker almost killed a man and I watched it happen. I could still remember the blood staining his hands and leaking into his shirt. I could still see the rage on his face. As I shouted for him to stop, I realized that despite the kiss he was still Cole Walker, a loose cannon, one that I needed to avoid at all costs. It didn’t matter if my body and heart screamed that we belonged together; my mind said to stay away from him.

  And that’s what I had been doing since.

  I blinked and returned to the here and now. Eerie music filled the room, foreboding and warning of bad things to come. I sat on the edge of the couch, focused on the TV. This was the highlight of the movie, the moment the monster attacked. Any second now he would take what he wanted, and no one was going to stop him.

  My heart thumped, threatening to burst out of my chest. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. The monster, the one that made girls scream, was so close…

  “Damn.”

  I glanced over at Lukas, my concentration broken. “What?” I asked, taking a bite of pizza. Gooey cheese burned the top of my mouth, making my taste buds jump up and down with excitement.

  “This pizza is frickin’ amazing. Where did you learn to cook like this?” he asked, helping himself to another piece from the dented pizza pan.

  “Not fro
m my mom, that’s for sure,” I muttered, wiping my hands on a napkin and turning my attention back to the TV. Creature from the Black Lagoon played out on my mom’s old TV. I thought it fitting that an ancient television played a movie from the 1950s. Seemed appropriate somehow.

  I reached for another piece of pizza just as the Gill Man kidnapped the beautiful blonde heroine. Her scream echoed through our tiny living room, sending chills over my skin. My eyes stayed glued to the TV, waiting for that moment when her knight in shining armor would rescue her. It happened in all the old movies. Maybe that’s why I loved them so much; the good guys always won and the ladies were always saved.

  Too bad real life wasn’t like that.

  I took a bite out of my pizza before letting out a gasp, watching as Gill Man was speared to death, ending the terror.

  Lukas chuckled next to me.

  “What?” I asked around a mouthful of pizza.

  He sat his paper plate down on the scratched coffee table, stretching the sleeve of his black t-shirt. “You,” he said, peering at me between strands of his black hair.

  I swallowed a bite. “What about me?” I asked, watching as the movie credits started rolling.

  “I like watching you become so enthralled with these old movies.”

  I took another bite of pizza and frowned at him. “Enthralled? Really? Where did you learn that word? The preppy private school you attended for one whole year?”

  Lukas grinned. His parents had sent him to a private school freshman year of high school, hoping to change him into a normal teenager. Whatever that was.

  “No, I did not learn it from my year of hell. But it fits. Your eyes light up when you watch these old shows. It’s like you disappear into the movie. Really messes with my mind.”

  I shrugged and finished off the last bite of pizza. “It’s my thing. The women are so graceful and beautiful. And the men are so … handsome and dashing.”

  “Yeah, but why classic horror films? Why not romances or comedies? Or even those musical films with dancing and singing?” Lukas shivered dramatically. “Kill me now.”

  I sat back on the couch and put my feet on the coffee table, crossing them at the ankles. The hum of the A/C came on, loud in the house. It was a sound I loved since sometimes my mom forgot to pay the electrical bill.

  Lukas copied me, sitting back on the couch, his arm touching mine. He put his feet on the table, crossing them at the ankles. His laces were undone and the tongues of his black Converses loose. He nudged my arm again, wanting his answer. I chewed on my lip ring for a while, trying to figure out how to explain why I loved old movies.

  “I like horror films because life’s not perfect like they are in the comedies or romances. At least not my life.” I said, picking at a strand of my black hair. “Bad things happen to good people. Life’s not a comedy or about two people dancing in the rain. It’s raw and gritty and dirty. That’s why I like horror movies. Because sometimes the monsters are real.”

  “Wow, that’s some pretty deep shit,” Lukas said.

  “Yep, it sounds pretty screwed up.” I shrugged, unapologetic with how I felt. “I would rather watch movies about wolf men or vampires than a couple laughing over a silly, stupid joke.” I rolled my eyes and laughed. “God, that sounds sad.”

  “No it doesn’t.”

  I peeked over at Lukas, pushing a strand of my hair out of the way. He was studying me intently, heat in his eyes.

  “Nothing about you is sad, Sam.” He touched my chin, turning me to face him. “You are unbelievable. When I’m around you…” He leaned down, his lips touching mine.

  It was a soft kiss, too gentle and wet. Nothing like that first kiss with Walker.

  I sat still, letting him kiss me. Waiting for that moment when a tingle would run over my skin, warming me from the inside out. But it never happened. Lukas’s lips didn’t feel right.

  “Lukas,” I whispered against his mouth, planting the heels of my hands on his chest and putting some distance between us. “I don’t think we should do this.”

  His arm went across my lap, tugging me closer as his lips traveled to my ear. “Why? We’re alone. Let’s take advantage of it,” he said, his breath warm against my earlobe.

  I shivered and brought my shoulder up to my ear, protecting myself. Lukas ran his hand down my leg, his tattooed fingers caressing my thigh. It left me feeling nervous and vulnerable, but not wanting more.

  He kissed down my throat, leaving a wet path behind. His hand ran up my thigh, his fingers delving between my legs.

  I reached out and grabbed his hand before it could reach its mark. “Wait, Lukas…”

  Suddenly the front door slammed open, hitting the faded plaid chair behind it. Lukas and I jumped apart, finding Bentley rushing through the doorway. He kicked the door closed behind him with a booted heel, rattling the windows in the old trailer.

  “Bentley!” I gasped when he turned his head. His nose was bloody and one of his eyes was swollen, black and blue marks coloring the delicate skin around it. He glanced at me but didn’t slow down, heading toward the hallway.

  I sprung up from the couch and took off after him. The trailer’s floorboards creaked as I rushed down the hallway.

  I passed my mom’s room – empty for the last two days. I got a brief glimpse of an unmade bed, dirty clothes strewn everywhere, and empty vodka bottles beside her bed. Next was my room. The faded pink quilt on my bed didn’t look so tattered when the lights were off. And my open, nearly empty closet didn’t look so bare with darkness creeping around the room. With two more steps, I was standing in front of the bathroom doorway, watching as Bentley leaned against the puke-green sink to study his nose in the mirror.

  “What happened?” I asked in a loud-pitched voice.

  Bentley wet a washcloth and swiped at the dried blood under his nose, cutting his eyes over to me. “Why is Lukas here?”

  I glanced over my shoulder, finding Lukas walking up behind me. “We were watching TV,” I said defensively.

  “That’s it?” Bentley asked, raising one eyebrow.

  Lukas scoffed from behind me.

  “That’s what I figured,” Bentley said with disgust. His animosity for Lukas was like a bad joke. It didn’t make sense and there was nothing funny about it.

  I straightened up and took a step to the side, blocking Bentley’s view of Lukas. “Your face?” I reminded him, pointing to the bloody mess on his nose. He turned to the mirror again, surviving the damage to his face.

  “It’s just some bruises and a little blood. Where’s Mom?” he asked, picking up a washcloth and wiping his nose some more.

  I scoffed. “Stupid question, Bent. You know she hasn’t been home in days.”

  Bentley huffed and studied his nose in the mirror. “Shit, I think my nose is broken,” he mumbled, tilting his head back to look up his nostrils.

  I pushed my way between him and the sink, making him back up to give me room. “Let me see,” I demanded, bending his head down so I could see his nose better.

  He leaned over enough so I could study his nose at my short height. “What the hell happened?” I whispered, feeling along the bridge of his nose as gently as possible.

  He winced when I touched a tender spot. “I owed some money and the guys decided it was time to collect,” he said point blank.

  “Shit, Bent!” I snapped, throwing my hand down in aggravation. “You could have been killed!” I picked up the washcloth and slapped it against his chest, holding it there until he grabbed it.

  “But I wasn’t,” he said with a smirk, catching the washcloth.

  “You are so stupid,” I muttered again, shaking my head with disgust. I couldn’t lose Bentley. He was the only one I had. My best friend. The only family member who really loved me.

  “Did you pay them?” I asked, praying he did.

  He snorted. “Not quite. I still have to pay up. This,” he pointed to his face, “was just an advance, I guess you can say. If I don’t get the money to t
hem, I’m gonna look a lot worse next time.”

  The pizza suddenly felt like lead in the pit of my stomach.

  “You need money?” Lukas asked, stepping into the bathroom like a dark savior.

  My head snapped up. What the hell was he thinking? It was the wrong thing for him to say. And the wrong person to say it to. Bentley had this little thing called pride … and nobody messed with it.

  Bentley stepped around me, stopping in front of Lukas. My heart rate sped up, seeing a fight about to unfold.

  “You got money?” he asked, jerking his chin at Lukas.

  Lukas stood up straighter. “Yeah. How much you need?”

  Bentley sized Lukas up, looking down at his brand-new Converses and expensive, trendy jeans. “Five thousand,” he said.

  “Bent!” I exclaimed. We didn’t have that kind of money! He would never be able to repay it! Oh, god! Oh, god! They were going to kill him. They were going to kill my brother!

  Bentley ignored me and kept his eyes locked on Lukas. “Got that much, Goth man?”

  Lukas’s jaw clenched tight. He took a step toward Bentley, meeting him eye to eye. I got ready to spring into action, separating them if I had to.

  “First of all, I’m not Goth, that’s an insult. And second … five thousand? No problem. My parents set up a…”

  Bentley interrupted him, a grin splitting his face. “Listen, kid,” he said, his lips twitching with laughter. “Don’t worry about loaning me money. I’ve got it covered. How about you just worry about what I’ll do to you if you don’t keep your hands off my sister.”

  “Bent!” I screeched, glaring at his back. I glanced at Lukas. “Don’t listen to him, Lukas. He’s being an…”

  Bentley held up a hand, stopping me. “Quiet, Sam. Let the man speak his piece.”

  I blew out a breath of frustration and stared daggers at him.

  Lukas didn’t seem to be scared by Bentley’s tactics. “Are you threatening me?” he asked him.