by C. C. Ekeke
Hugo immediately understood why Brie had visited. He’d been the only person Brie had trusted about the lies she’d told her parents to protect Ramses. “Did your parents catch him with someone?” Hugo asked, unable to help himself.
“No.” Brie shook her head, silky locks tumbling down her shoulders. “He came out to them.” Rage darkened her beauty. “And Daddy disowned him.”
Cold horror shivered through Hugo. “Jesus.” Thank God his mother didn’t react similarly after he’d manifested. “People still care about that shit?”
Brie’s sidelong look was reproachful. “You know how my dad’s culture is.”
“Right…” And Hugo was sucked back into Brie’s drama. Not from wanting to reconnect. Hugo had Presley. But Brie’s pain was so raw, begging for a salve. “What about Mumu?” he asked, referring to Brie’s mother. Miss Universe of the Mentally Unstable.
Brie laughed bitterly, head resting on the wall. “Mumu knew about Ramses. For years,” she continued in that low, husky tenor. “She ignored his suffering.” Brie almost broke, face contorting. She quickly regained composure. “After Daddy’s awfulness, Mumu kicked him out. Now I hate both my parents.”
Hugo turned away. Her agony held such tangible force. “I’m sorry,” he offered, despite the uselessness of his condolences. Music within the auditorium behind them kept booming.
“The one person I wanted to talk with when I was falling apart…” Brie continued, almost whisper-soft. “…I couldn’t.” The admission hung between them, frank and intimate.
Strange warmth tingled within Hugo as he felt her gaze linger, searching for the friend she once knew.
Hugo forced himself to face Brie. Her eyes said a hundred things. But she looked scared and almost confused when whispering only one. “I miss you.”
Hugo opened his mouth, not knowing what to say. He knew he was tired of hating Brie. Tired of hating his former self. Why carry such poison, when he was happy with Presley? Speaking of... She’d been gone awhile. Hugo rose and excused himself.
Brie caught his wrist. Her eyes were pleading. “Can we just…go back to how things were?”
The appeal slapped Hugo in the face. “How things were?” Anger boiled to the surface. Anger at Brie. Anger at himself for almost getting played again. “When I was the pathetic loser wrapped around your finger?”
Brie flinched. She looked fearful. “No! I didn’t mean—”
Hugo plowed over her defense. “Or when I wasn’t dating the anorexic skankbag who needs a stripper pole?”
Brie’s mouth fell open hearing her own words repeated back.
“You’re loud, Brie!” Hugo spat. “Half the auditorium heard you!” As Brie blathered out excuses, he listened for Presley—
“Help! Somebody!” Presley screamed at the top of her lungs.
Hugo froze, everything else falling away. Presley was in trouble outside the auditorium. But who…?
“Shut that mouthy bitch up!” a voice snarled.
Baz. Hugo’s stomach lurched.
“Got her—oww.” DeDamien Harris, putting his hands on Presley. The third attacker said nothing, grunting as Presley fought. Three against one.
Murderous hate roiled within Hugo. He clenched his fists, turning toward the darkened hallways. I have to reach Presley before… Hugo choked back terror at what Baz and his lackeys might do.
Brie was on her feet, grabbing his shoulder to stay him. Even in her heels, Hugo had several inches on Brie. “Bogie, we’re not done—”
Hugo pulled away forcefully. “Stop,” he hissed. “Your bullshit was more convincing when I still cared.” Overkill but effective to get rid of her.
Shock consumed Brie’s expression, followed by hurt. “Who are you?” Her voice trembled as she spoke.
“Help!” Presley’s cries filled Hugo’s ears, calling to him. “HELP—uhhh!” A blow to the stomach drove the wind out of her.
Hugo was backpedaling toward Presley. “Not your friend or your bitch.” He turned and powerwalked away, right as Brie’s face crumpled completely.
Banking around a corner, Hugo focused only on Presley. Healing factor or not, three varsity athletes would hurt her. Badly.
And Hugo had brought Presley here, never imagining she’d be harmed…
He jogged past two shadowy figures, entwined and enjoying each other too much to notice him. Hugo recognized both girls, ignoring them in his haste.
Once the coast was clear, he sprinted faster than a heartbeat to the back exits. Unlit hallways became shadowy streaks, Presley’s screams growing closer.
First Simon. Then Hugo’s family. Now Presley. Sebastian's deader than Elvis.
Chapter 27
Hugo slid to a stop at the auditorium's rear. He stood where shadows bordered dim overhead light, heart in his throat. Hugo didn’t have to look far to find the conflict.
TJ and DeDamien held Presley's arms, both their faces bloodied. Baz stood in front, proud and arrogant, grabbing Presley by the jaw and talking trash.
Presley sagged forward, TJ and DeDamien holding her up. The Goth dress was torn, hair disheveled, face covered in bruises. Healing factor or not, Hugo knew these three had struck Presley many times.
“Thought because you’re a girl we wouldn’t fight back, bitch?” Baz barked. Hate turned his face ugly. “We’ll teach you a lesson you’ll never forget.”
Poisonous hate consumed Hugo, unlike anything he’d felt.
He wanted Baz dead. He needed Baz dead. Handle the backup first.
Hugo moved, a blur of violence. Spinning TJ around, he backhanded his mouth just hard enough, too quick to be seen. A loud crack sounded. Two-hundred-eighty-plus pounds of TJ went spinning.
Baz, DeDamien, and Presley turned.
Hugo already zoomed back into the shadows before TJ hit concrete.
The football player was face-down and out cold, his floppy jaw unquestionably shattered.
DeDamien gaped. “Holy shit. TJ!” He released Presley and ran to his friend.
Baz’s mouth fell open.
Hugo waited for Baz to move away from Presley. Superspeeding her to shelter would be safer.
Hugo didn’t want safe. He wanted payback.
A maniacal cackle floated from Presley’s bloodied lips. “You assholes are in so much trouble!”
“Shut up!” Baz pie-faced Presley in a burst of anger, pushing her down.
Hugo almost charged Baz then. But DeDamien still needed to be eliminated—and painfully.
He rocketed out of the shadows, yanking the towering ballplayer’s collar from behind.
DeDamien yelped and flailed, slammed back into the red-brick building wall.
A couple dull snaps signaled his ribs cracking. DeDamien pitched forward, groaning.
Hugo stood over him as Baz turned in that direction.
Eyes on his rival, Hugo stomped on DeDamien’s right knee and gave his shoe a sharp twist. Several bones snapped. Ligaments and tendons ripped.
DeDamien’s inhuman screech drowned out any other sounds. His expression articulated impossible pain.
Hugo glanced down, remorseless. “Quiet.” He punted DeDamien in the face, knocking him out.
Hugo couldn’t afford drawing attention. Now Baz was alone, trembling hands running through his slicked-back hair.
Hugo quickly assessed Presley climbing to her feet, looking overjoyed. He zeroed in on Baz. “I’m gonna rip your head off.”
Baz regained some of his bearings. “You don’t scare me!” His heart’s racing pitter-patter said otherwise.
Hugo snorted and advanced on him. “Yeah, I do.”
Baz reddened, cocking his fists in boxing stance. “Let’s end this.”
Hugo beckoned with both hands. “Bring it.”
“Destroy him, Hugo!” Presley cried.
Ending this quickly would’ve been smarter. But after everything Baz had done, Hugo wanted him to suffer. His hatred sang as Baz rushed in with a flurry of punches, tight stance, fluid motion. Baz knew
how to box, move his feet. His attacks could’ve dropped any normal person. To Hugo, gifted with Titan’s powers, Baz moved in slow motion. He tried not to laugh while dodging and ducking Baz’s punches just in time, slow enough not to appear suspicious.
Baz fumed as his punches kept missing. “Fight me, fucking coward!” he roared, taking a wild swing.
“Okay.” Hugo caught Baz’s punch in one hand.
Baz struggled with all his normal strength, but had zero chance against Hugo’s ocean of power. The Samoan beamed, eager to inflict pain on this bastard. He slowly tightened his grip on Baz’s fist. The ballplayer’s face filled in pained shock. Hugo heard the creaking of finger bones, like he heard Presley’s breathless joy nearby. But so steeped was Hugo in revenge, she might as well have been miles away.
A desperate Baz sailed in with his left.
Hugo sensed the attack coming, raising his other arm staggeringly fast.
Baz grunted in discomfort, his fist striking corded, rock-hard muscle. His horror was telling. Baz finally realized that he couldn’t win. Not against a furious, nigh-invulnerable superhuman.
Hugo tapped him lightly in the face, like a door knock. Baz’s head snapped back speedbag style. He went cross-eyed, legs turning to spaghetti, and collapsed onto Hugo before sliding down the length of him. Watching Baz crumple from a mere tap was comedic gold.
Hugo caught Baz one-handed by the throat, shoving him off in disgust. The basketballer slid several feet away on his back, dazed and sluggish.
Hugo stalked forward. “This is the part where you run,” he growled.
That reached Baz through his stupor. He scrambled upright and ran. Hugo smirked as Baz rapidly put yards between them. He didn’t quicken his pace, yet. Let Baz believe that he’d escaped.
When he had run far enough, Hugo exploded forward—erasing the distance between them in a second.
Grabbing the back of Baz’s polo collar, he jerked him off the ground. Hugo switched hands, catching the hollering ballplayer’s throat, driving him back down. There was a hard smack as air rushed out of Baz’s lungs in a whoosh.
Hugo crouched atop the fallen bully, hauling him up by the collar so they were nose to nose. Hugo savored Baz’s fear, his pain. He recalled when Baz used to torment him, beat him up. He remembered AJ’s bleeding hand, Presley’s bruised face…
Time for so much payback.
Hugo glanced back at Presley raining kicks on DeDamien’s face. Then she moved to TJ’s prone body to ensure he stayed down.
Hugo turned back to Baz. “Think I’d forgive?” he questioned. “Think I’d forget?” Hugo closed his eyes and smiled, shaking his head. Intoxicating, implacable hate flooded his veins. He opened his eyes, no longer smiling. “Never.” And Hugo chucked him sideways like some frisbee.
Baz thrashed through the air before slamming against the brick wall with sickening impact. He lay clutching his shoulder, groaning. Hugo reached Baz in half-a-second, hauling up and pinning him to the wall by the throat. The ballplayer’s fear was unmistakable.
“Your crazy bitch started this,” Baz moaned in protest. Like that would save him.
“Liar!” Hugo barked in his face, angrier now. He slammed Baz repeatedly into the wall, somehow restraining himself from putting Baz through the damn wall. “What did I tell you about my friends and family, huh??” he roared. AJ’s blood, trickling onto the carpet. The stench of urine on his face. The recollections fogged his brain. “What. Did. I. Tell you?” Hugo shook Baz violently, constantly, until he resembled a ragdoll. “Give me a fucking answer!”
Baz wilted, eyes unfocused from pain. Only Hugo’s grip kept him uptight. “W…wha…what are you doin?” he slurred.
Hugo jerked upright. “What am I doing?” He chuckled. “I’m kicking your ass, idiot!” he barked, each word underscored by piston-like rights and lefts to Baz’s stomach. Hugo heard ribs crunched like egg shells, despite how much he pulled his punches.
Baz doubled over, sinking in a heap.
The basketballer tried dragging himself away, coughing up blood. Hugo watched Baz, again allowing his prey a little distance. He could hear Baz’s wheezing breaths. Painful and deserved.
“I’m sorry,” he gasped out, still dragging himself toward the shadows.
Hugo shook his head, refusing to accept it. Not after everything Baz had done. “I told you this feud was over. You wouldn’t listen.” Hugo seethed quietly, strolling toward his rival. “I told you to leave my friends and family alone. You wouldn’t listen.”
He reached Baz’s side, flipping him onto his back with a lazy nudge of his foot. “Are you listening now?”
Hugo pressed a foot on Baz’s chest, applying slight pressure. Not enough to crack his ribcage, but enough to make oxygen a problem.
The basketballer thrashed, breaths growing shallow. Baz gripped Hugo’s foot, trying to pry it off. He’d have more luck moving a car. “Hu-Hugo,” Baz wheezed as if broken glass was scraping across his lungs. He looked so scared, so young gawking up at Hugo. “I can’t breathe.”
Hugo didn’t move, didn’t care, glaring down at this flailing, sobbing maggot. He kept the pressure steady.
“Hugo, stop,” Baz’s voice was a whisper, rapidly losing strength. He couldn't draw in air, turning purple. Hugo felt no mercy or reason to move…
“Bogie!” Baz pleaded in a gasp. He hadn’t called Hugo that in years, since they'd actually been friends. “Please...Please…can’t breathe.” Baz’s eyes were turning glassy. His struggles grew more and more feeble. Baz’s heartbeat slowed, the life starting to leave him…
Hugo watched Baz uncaringly, then did a doubletake.
Pinned beneath Hugo’s foot was himself. Not himself now. The way he’d once looked like before this past summer—short, skinny, long-haired, powerless. Afraid of everything.
Hugo was disgusted, seized by a powerful urge to crush his former pathetic self beneath his heel.
Until Hugo realized the truth behind this visage.
You’ve become what you hate, a voice chided. You’re the monster.
Hugo immediately backpedaled. Baz lay on the concrete, motionless. Hugo’s heart skipped. No…
Baz sucked in greedy gasps and rolled to his side, coughing violently.
Hugo’s respite was brief before guilt seized him. I almost killed someone…
“Why’d you stop?”
Presley’s voice broke through Hugo’s avalanche of horror and guilt. He turned slowly. His girlfriend was a few feet away, visibly impatient. “What did you…say?” Hugo asked, hoping he’d misheard.
Presley approached, giving Baz a dispassionate look. “It’s okay if you want to off him,” she murmured so only he could hear, so casual about murder. “Just make it quick. Then we do the others.” Presley gestured back at DeDamien’s and TJ’s unconscious forms.
Hugo gasped at the stomach-turning angle of DeDamien’s leg. I did that. “I’m…I’m not a killer,” he stammered. The world swam as Hugo wished for the time when he hadn’t almost murdered three classmates. Hugo stared at his hands, frightened by them. Titan’s powers had made him a god. Yet I use them to be a monster?
Presley’s makeup-smeared face twisted in anger. “After what he did to me? And you?” She glared down at Baz like roadkill. “Seriously, who’ll miss this idiot?”
“Stop,” Hugo ordered.
Presley rolled her eyes but remained quiet. His mind was a mess, unable to find any escape. Then came slow, wheezing laughter.
Baz could barely sit up. Every breath sounded like his lungs were being dragged across glass. But he laughed long and loud. “You are done! I’m telling everyone what you did.”
The blood drained from Hugo's face. Baz was right. There was no way out. He turned to Presley in a panicked apology.
Yet she smirked for some reason. “Say anything and we’ll ruin you, Baz.” Presley fished out her phone from her purse and did some swiping.
Hugo stared in stupefied shock as Presley’s voice played back fr
om her struggle with DeDamien, TJ, and Baz. She screamed for them to stop, scuffling noises loud as she fought them off.
Baz stopped smiling. “You recorded me?”
“You recorded him?” Hugo echoed, brain melting out of his ears.
Presley nodded, pleased with herself. “When you and your friends attacked me. Even when I asked your names and cried for help.” She squinted as if remembering something. “I also emailed myself so…”
Dumbfounded as Hugo was, he eagerly grabbed this lifeline. The Samoan turned to a flabbergasted Baz, hauling him up. The ballplayer groaned in pain.
“Mention anything about tonight,” Hugo warned with growling confidence he didn’t feel. “That recording goes everywhere. Basketball coaches. Friends’ parents. Your parents. Newspapers. Any possible basketball scholarships go away.” Baz’s features paled. “And when you’ve lost everything, I’ll be waiting to finish you.” Hugo inched in menacingly to drive home his point. “Are. We. Clear?”
Baz gaped back as if witnessing a twenty-foot monster. “Yes.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Yes, sir,” Baz revised quickly. Tears streamed down his face. “I won’t say shit. I promise—”
Hugo flicked Baz under the jaw with a single finger. His head snapped back before he sagged in Hugo’s grip, unconscious. The Samoan let Baz droop to the ground and turned to Presley.
He cupped her face, examining his lover thoroughly. Her face bruises were gone. But what else had Baz done? “You okay?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“You sure?”
“I’m already healed,” Presley reassured, grasping his hands in hers.
Hugo took her word for it. Surveying the carnage that he’d caused left his stomach in knots. Hugo couldn’t bear another glance. I did all that. And he’d almost done worse. But Presley saving him didn’t distract from what she’d wanted him to do to Baz. Or why she’d recorded her confrontation before they’d even attacked.
Presley’s urgent grip pulled Hugo back into the present. She looked tired and sad. “Just take me home.”
Hugo glanced around the scene of the crime. Baz, TJ, and DeDamien were all unconscious. No one else was in this backlot. He listened but could hear little over his own jackhammer heartbeat. With the surroundings clear, Hugo scooped Presley up in his arms and supersped away from Paso High, leaving a dust trail in his wake.