by A. E. D
Slice after slice, I dug the knife in harder as memory after memory flashed in my mind. Every cut and slash he ever made to my skin; I double. Watching each stroke of pain I inflict as he watches on in painful fear. He can no longer scream from the repeated punches to his throat. As I slice, I grow continuously closer to his groin. He sees the look in my eyes once I pull the knife back from his stomach. Blood slowly dripping down my hand, I look deep into his eyes. Showing him everything I thought. Showing him the pain he inflicted on me as a teenager and the pain I endure every time I close my eyes. I stab him once, making him feel the pain I felt when he held me down and took away the very part of me I wish I still had. His eyes bulge so wide I thought they may pop out. The fear was so evident in his eyes that I finally saw regret.
But it’s too late for regrets.
He had his fun with me and now it’s my turn.
✧✧✧
I found Keenan a little while later leaning against the brick wall next to the burger joint. He looked troubled as I approached but grew relieved once he saw me. Then his eyes locked onto a spot on my wrist making me look down. A smear of blood was still on my wrist from my recent activities. Wiping the blood away I look back at him. He doesn’t say anything as we head back to his car.
Because I wasn’t prepared to kill anyone, I didn’t have time to dispose of his body. I carved a gang insignia into his cheek, something to throw the police off when they eventually find him. They’ll suspect it was a gang retaliation death and just write it up as such.
For once I feel like I’m okay. I defeated one of my demons and I feel like I can finally breathe properly. Like I’ve been able to let go of one of my most painful memories of my past.
I may have killed one demon today, but many more are still very much alive.
Chapter Twenty-Five
We spent the rest of the day driving around the city in an uncomfortable silence. I know he’s still thinking about what happened earlier but I feel so liberated. For once in my shitty fucking life, I feel like I’ve taken control of everything. I feel like I’ve conquered a part of my past that played a big part in how and who I am today.
After we got back to the car we went and got his permit, which we should have done first, before driving to the shops and filling up on food and drinks for the party. Once we got home, I helped him set up before the party started. Laying out the bowls of chips on his kitchen bench, I was about to start a punch when my phone rang. Now, there are only two people that would ring this phone, Keenan and clients. I look up and see Keenan pulling out bottles of soft drinks out of the fridge for the punch, which will no doubt be spiked in about half an hour.
I decide to take the call in my apartment. Keenan’s already on edge about what happened today, so I don’t want him hearing this call. Even though he’s heard me take them plenty of times before.
The door opens with the first group of kids arriving as I slip through the door after them. Stepping into the privacy of my own place, I quickly answer the call from the unknown number.
“Yes.”
“Number?” It’s Joe. Asking for another extraction but this time it’s a five. He wants them to live.
He never lets them live.
Only very rarely will he let people go. He didn’t build his reputation up from being weak. Weakness is letting people live. They’ll run off like rats and the first chance they get they’ll squeak. It becomes more hassle than what there should be. So, he simply kills them, or hurts them to a point where they are so far gone in their minds that they won’t be a problem in the future.
He sounds different though, more apprehensive. There’s only one reason why he would feel that way. He’s hiding something from me. My best guess would be Mason, he’s behind this. But why? I don’t know. I guess I will find out tomorrow.
“Be careful, Joe. He could get you killed.” I warn and hang up. Mason’s not as clean as he wants to be. He’s messy and if anything, he’s predictable.
He’s been after me for weeks now and he’s getting desperate. The only link he has to me is Joe. I know Joe sees him and Monty as his kids. He never had a family but those boys became it. He’d do anything for them, his love for Mason is over clouding his judgement right now. If Mason is there tomorrow, if he tries anything, I won’t hesitate to kill Joe. A personal lesson that will no doubt hurt him in places my knife couldn’t. Maybe that’s what I have to do, to make him finally get the big picture. That I don’t want to be hunted, I just want to be left alone.
Changing into a simple black cotton spaghetti strap bodycon dress, I finish the look off with strappy black heels and a ruby red lipstick. My hair, as usual, is pulled back into a tight straight ponytail. It’s a practical hair style. Nothing constricting my eyesight from oncoming danger. As a last touch I add some mascara. My long thick lashes are enhanced even more, making my bright blue eyes pop. It also helps to stop people from looking at me. My blue eyes against my dark hair make my sight look piercing. Like I’m looking straight into your soul, learning all your secrets. Many people can’t keep eye contact with me for more than a few seconds, they say it's intimidating.
✧✧✧
Stepping out of my apartment, the music is pumping loudly from Keenan's front door. I didn’t realize how long I’d been gone for until I stepped back inside. What looks like hundreds of kids stood around drinking, dancing, sweating and partying to the loud bass music playing from the speakers around the place. In one corner, girls grind themselves on the male bodies behind them. In another corner are people making out. The kitchen is filled with bottles of alcohol, empty bottles of bear and empty red cups are trashed everywhere along with chips crunched along the bench tops and floor.
I grab an empty clean cup that’s still half wrapped up the in the newly opened packet of stacked cups and pour myself some punch. I knew it would be spiked but I didn’t realize just how strong it would be. It tastes like it’s eighty five percent vodka. With a scowl I pour the rest back into the bowl and see a bottle of whiskey sitting on the bench. Grabbing the unopened bottle, I head towards an opened space near the front door, cleared from any drunken adolescence. Too many people in my personal space puts me on edge. In situations like these where I’m anxious, I struggle to contain my murderous tendencies. I don’t like being touched when I don’t allow it and I don’t like being in a crowded place when I don’t feel a hundred percent. I’m still reeling from seeing my past and all the memories that resurfaced today, so I’m not entirely in control of my reactions right now. So, a private little corner where I can stay with my personal bubble intact is where I’ll be. While there, a tall looking slim built boy makes his way towards me. One piercing look at him and he diverts his course, choosing to talk to a half-drunk girl swaying on the dance floor.
Good choice.
Taking a sip of the whiskey, my eyes scan the area. I spot Keenan standing next to a group of guys with his arm around the shoulders of a short brunette girl. This must be the seventeen-year-old he was talking about. She already looks like putty in his hands but a meek little girl though. Like a sweet little submissive, she bows her head when the men speak, not wanting to intrude. I hate women like that. They remind me of my mother. With a deep breath I slowly make my way towards Keenan. My feet stop mid stride when the tall buff boy he’s talking to holds out a small bag of white powder.
That’s all it takes for the whiskey bottle in my hand to fly across the room, shattering against the wall.
The loud sound of glass breaking freezes the room. Keenan’s eyes follow the sound before they lock onto mine. His eyes widen when he sees me watching him furiously. The hand that was reaching out for the bag of powder instantly drops. With a new fury I’ve never felt before coursing through my veins, I make my way towards him, pushing people aside roughly who don’t move. Some instantly part, making way for the pissed off woman who has her sights set on the birthday boy.
As I approach him, he pushes the girl that he had his arm around behind him. H
e shouldn’t be worried about her, it’s him and his little friends who should be afraid.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Keenan?” I ask in my mother tongue.
Ever since I was a young girl my father taught me many languages. English being the first, Chinese, Italian, Spanish and a few others. He said they could be used as a tool for when I need to speak but not wanting anyone to understand what I’m saying or for playing dumb and listening to others speak when they think I can’t understand them. Just after Keenan moved in, he heard me swearing in Russian one day. He asked what language it was and asked me if I could teach him. Since then, he’s learnt to speak it fluently. Which comes in handy for moments like these when I need to rip him a new one privately.
“It’s not what you think, Lake!” He says quickly. People in the crowd frowning from not understanding our conversation.
“It looks to me like you’re about to grab a bag of coke!” By now, everyone had stopped to watch the commotion unfold. Keenan’s hand reaches up to scratch the back of his head. Nervously scratching, he breathes out before looking back at me.
“He was just showing me. I wasn’t going to do anything with it.”
“He better flush those drugs before I shove them down his throat.” I say angrily, throwing a glare to the boy with the bag. I hear someone in the crowd gasp. Clearly the only one in the room beside Keenan and I who understands Russian.
“I’m watching you, Keenan.” I warn before walking away. I need to get out of here before I do something I’ll regret. Just before I reach the door, Keenan’s voice stops me.
“I’m sorry, Lake.” He says quietly, almost bringing me to tears. With one last breath, I open the door and walk out.
Why did that affect me so badly? We’ve never had an argument like that before. I’ve never really raised my voice to him but something about seeing him reach for the drugs snapped something inside of me, like I didn’t want him to be like me. I don’t want him to go down that hole because I’ve been there. A year after I escaped my father I was strung out from heroin, thanks to the guys that brought me over to America. It wasn’t until a couple months later that I was able to kick it. It kept me caged in my mind with the dark thoughts growing deadly to myself. Scars on my thigh hold memories of my drug induced dark times. I needed to see blood to quench my thirst for it but the drugs hindered me from doing it properly. Everything my father taught me about not being caught was thrown out the window the moment the drugs entered my system. So I turned the knife on myself. I was so doped up I never felt the pain. Only saw the blood that my body longed to see. After a few short months I got sober and started my mission to rise to my full potential, which is how I met Joe. His soft spot for kids is what helped me to become The Handler. Seeing a young orphan girl on the streets pulled at his heart strings. But that didn’t mean he would treat me differently when the time came that he officially met me. One broken wrist later and he realized I meant business. He gave me my first job, even my name and that led to me being here today. He gave me the toughest prisoner he had, after persuading him to let me have a go at him, he finally granted my request. I had to show him I wasn’t messing around.
And that’s exactly what I did.
Chapter Twenty-Six
A man he had imprisoned for a few months was the key to building my one woman empire. Really, I have to thank Joe for everything he’s done for me. But I won’t, he favors Mason and Mason is getting on my last nerve.
Those few months after my escape weren’t my first-time taking drugs. One of Drakon Stepanov’s favorite games to play was ‘how long can Lake last without sleep’. He’d torture me for hours on end and when my body grew tired and weary, he’d shoot me up with whatever did the job. Burst after burst of energy would keep my body afloat. The endless hours of torture would never end until he’d run out. Then, if I was lucky, he’d be over it and move on to something else. He only ever used drugs on me if he wanted me to remember a valuable lesson. One which I needed to be coherent at all times for. Being beaten half to death tends to put a stop to that, which is why jacking me up with whatever drug he had laying around the house helped. My father wasn’t a drug user, no, his mind was already way too fucked up for that. I doubt they would work on him anyways. He could go days without sleeping, days which I could not.
I didn’t expect the night to end like this. Alone in the dark with Congo by my side and a bottle of the most expensive whiskey I had. The good stuff. The one that goes down so smoothly that you forget your even drinking the hard stuff. I grab the control off the arm of the chair and flick on my surveillance app on the TV. There’s no way I’ll let this party continue without having my eyes on the young juveniles. Sitting in the dark, just like how my life is, I watch my young neighbors party.
Everything seems to be back in full swing. The drug dealers look to be behaving themselves so far. Keenan’s been wise enough to steer clear of them but I know the friendship hasn’t been terminated. Boys his age love acting big and tough so he won’t give them up. Not until he grows up enough to know what’s the right and what’s the wrong crowd to hang out with. The girls swarm around the birthday boy all screaming for his attention, though I haven’t seen Ruby yet. Maybe she’s working?
Although he hides it well, I know him enough to know he’s hurt. Upset by our argument, I can’t lie and say I’m not hurt either. I knew he’d be alright. I’d say he’d be more than alright. A smirk played on my face when he led the brunette hanging off his arm towards his room.
Never a dull moment with that boy. He always lives in the moment, right to the fullest, something I wish I could do. My past haunts me everywhere I look and everything I do, is because of my past. Sometimes I can’t control certain actions, such as ruining Keenan's party when flashes from my past are suddenly brought forth.
Before long, my eyes begin to droop from my intoxicated state and the darkness swallows me. My nightmares come alive when my conscious falls asleep, succumbing me to all my demons and monsters.
Especially the ones I don’t want to see.
✧✧✧
I slept in most of the morning and even through to the afternoon, courtesy of the fucking painful hangover I now sported that was caused by the empty whiskey bottle that lay by my feet. With a stretch of my back and neck, I make my way towards my beautiful custom-made shower. With three separate shower heads on the left and right walls and one head above me, I wash away the dirt and guilt from the night before. Our argument still plays heavily on my mind. Maybe I was too harsh with him. It’s not his fault he doesn’t know of my past struggles with narcotics.
✧✧✧
Throwing on a pair of ripped denim jeans and a white crop top, I head out. I need to make amends with the sweet boy next door.
Walking into his place, I was surprised to see the apartment spotless. Not what I was expecting to see after a party like that last night. Keenan appears around the corner from the hallway carrying a full trash bag of bottles, cans and plastic cups. He stops when he sees me, pausing briefly before looking away and continuing on towards the kitchen. When he walks past me where I stand near the front door, I sigh. I’m about to do something I never do.
Apologize, again.
“I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to cause a scene, especially on your birthday. But I’d say it wasn’t all bad, considering the hickeys on either side of your neck.” I say, coaxing a grin from him. I know he can’t resist the urge to be his true cocky self.
“They always say the quiet ones are always freaks in the sheets.” He winks. Ugh, I regret ever saying anything.
“But it’s okay, Lake. I know how it looked but trust me when I say I would never take drugs. Maybe a little weed every now and then but that's it.” He says seriously before finishing with a chuckle.
We spend the rest of the afternoon cleaning his apartment before making nachos together and watching movies. Before I know it, the sun had set and the moon had risen. A sign that it’s time
for my demons to come out to play. One goodbye later and I’m back in my room, getting ready for my nightly events. Wearing a pair of black but stretchy pair of jeans and a black long sleeve shirt, I grab my glasses, putting them on my head as I bend down to tie the laces to my boots together tightly.
When a client asks for a number five, I don’t bother with my snakes or latex catsuit. The snakes are only for the clients who either don’t care if someone lives or they want them dead. I have better tools for the ones who live, ones that hurt. My latex suit is usually for protecting myself against my snakes' attacks, in case they turn on me. The latex also helps to clean off any bodily fluids and poison that may exit a rapidly decaying body.
✧✧✧
Stepping out in the cool nights air I wonder if it was the right thing to do accepting this job. I don’t really know how or why, but I have a strong feeling that Mason will be there tonight. I mean he’s showed up a few times before on my cancelled jobs, but I can’t see Joe allowing it. But then again, maybe he will. I have an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach tonight. Mason is a wild card. He’s already brought out one mental breakdown, I can’t have him bringing another out. It’s only a matter of time before it happens again and I won’t always have Keenan with me.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
MASON
Joe won’t stop pacing.
I get that he’s worried my feisty little vixen will hurt him after the nicely put threat she made, which was incredibly hot by the way, but she won’t. I don’t plan on revealing myself tonight. I’m going to stealthily follow in after her so that I can watch her again. I even resorted to stalking her other well-known clients to see her and she cancelled on all of them. It’s either I’m too eager to see her and she caught me, or she’s just that good. I don’t know but whatever it is, I’m being extra careful tonight. That angelic voice that wields threats only make me crave her more. Seeing the joy in her face when she inflicts pain on someone gets my blood pumping in all the right places.