by C. A. Rene
I hear a crash and the sound of glass breaking inside the house. I force myself to head back in and see what the fuck is going on. First thing I hear is my mother wailing at the top of her lungs-nothing unusual there-and I leave my room to investigate further. I peer into her room and find her sitting on the floor in front of a broken mirror and her silk rope sprinkled with blood. Sonja rushes by me and bends down to help my mother up.
“I need Robert back.” She whimpers into Sonja’s shoulder.
“I know Miss Christina, I know. You must be strong, he would want you strong.” She pulls my mother’s fists open and sees a few superficial cuts. “Let’s clean these up.”
I leave them to it and head downstairs to the kitchen. I don’t know what I would do without Sonja these days and I honestly have no clue why she’s sticking around. My mother verbally assaults her everyday and it continues to escalate. I’ve tried to fire her three times now but she keeps showing back up the next day. I gave her a raise and told her to accept it as hazard pay for what she’s enduring here.
I’m also dealing with the board members of my father’s company. Right now they are running the day to day, but as soon as high school is done, I am to take over my father’s position and continue on the path he was on. It’s stressful because I have no idea where the source of our money came from and what this business actually is but I will be finding out sooner rather than later, I don’t have a choice.
I can’t stand this house any longer, living here is slowly driving me insane and I fear-sooner rather than later-I will be just as fucked up as my mother. I just don’t know how to leave and not feel responsible for leaving that monster here unleashed.
I hear the purr of an engine outside in the drive way and I know exactly who it is. He keeps showing up here unannounced to whisk me away to forget my life for a few hours at a time.
I open the door and see a familiar gunmetal Hummer idling in my driveway. “Let’s go dickhead!” Vin yells waving his hand out the window, “Em has been trying to reach you all day.” Shit, my phone died last night and I forgot to fucking charge it. Being on the receiving end of E’s wrath is a bit scary and I’m almost tempted to shut and lock the door. I’d do it if I was sure that would keep the fucker out, but it wouldn’t. “Don’t be a pussy, get in here!”
I roll my eyes and step out of the house, closing the door behind me. I lean in through the passenger side window and raise a brow. “Why am I coming with you?”
“Because I’m your only friend and I’m also your brother, so… that makes you a loser.”
“Granted,” I shrug, “but that doesn’t answer why I’m coming with you.”
“Em has been trying to text and call you all day. She’s having a barbeque and she’s demanded your presence.”
“Well if her highness commands…” I roll my eyes again and get in the seat.
“I’m telling her you said that.” He points at me with a grin, “you’re getting smacked.”
“Tattletale.” I mutter.
We pull up to E’s house and I see her waiting on her front porch, arms crossed and tapping her foot. Great, I know that look and I’m about to get an earful. Vin and I both get out of the Hummer and walk towards her.
“Travis and I will see you in a minute.” She tells Vin as he leans down to kiss her cheek. He nods and grins at me over his shoulder. Asshole.
I light a smoke and sit down on her front porch, “my phone died and I didn’t bother to charge it. I’m sorry.” Might as well get that out of the way before she berates me for not getting back to her.
With a huff, she sits down beside me, “you ever going to quit that nasty shit?” She points at my smoke.
“One day.” I shrug. When she doesn’t say anything I turn my head and look at her. “What? You’re not going to yell at me?”
“I’m irritated but that’s not what I have you out here for.” She looks down at her painted toes and exhales loudly, “I got a lead on Jennifer and I need to go after her.”
“What? Where?” I flick my butt onto her driveway.
“Spain.” She runs her hands through her hair, “Carm will be coming and Vin too.”
“And me.” I retort with my finger to my chest.
“I need you here,” she shakes her head, “I won’t be back in time for school to start and Emmett needs someone there to look out for him. He’s been homeschooled his whole life, this is his first year at an actual school.”
“Everything just makes sense now.” I mutter.
“Why do you hate each other?” She asks.
“I don’t hate him,” I look at her, “I don’t know.”
“Can you please do this, for me?”
“Fine. I’ll watch the brat.” I grumble.
“You can stay here,” she puts her hand on my arm, “I was actually going to ask you to move in here with us.”
“I don’t need pity, E. Plus, I can’t leave her at the house alone.” She smacks the back of my head and my cap flies off, “hey! What was that for?”
“First off, I would never pity you. I am asking you to move in here to be closer to your family. And second, that woman is an adult and what she does with what’s left of her shit existence is her problem not yours.”
“Fine, I’ll think about it, okay?”
“You could still go check up on her, but you belong here with me, Trav.”
I can’t deny that her kind words stir feelings of warmth I have never felt before and I find myself on the brink of tears. I suck it all back in and will myself to keep it together. “Thanks, E.”
“Okay, come inside and just to warn you, Adri is here and she’s already drunk.” Fucking great, that’s all I need right now. Adri loves to cry and bring up old shit when she’s drinking. I follow her through her house and out to the backyard. I can smell the grilled meat and I try to remember when the last time I ate was. Maybe it will be a good idea to stay here and try to change my life around.
I hear her laugh and it forces it’s way through my carefully erected walls to penetrate my cold heart. When Adri is genuinely happy she has these full belly cackles and they are so contagious that usually anyone around her will join in. I find myself turning towards the sound before I can stop it and I see her playing dominoes with Emmett. He has his head thrown back as he laughs with her and his mahogany hair shines in the sunlight. I’m instantly jealous and I can’t really figure out why. Maybe because he could give her a normal relationship like I can’t? Or maybe it’s because he’s become closer to her in a few short months than I’ve been in over two years.
“Bro, when are you going to tell her?” Hearing Vin call me Bro after all these years is something I still haven’t gotten used to.
“Tell her what?”
“That you bat for the other team.” Funny, using baseball analogies with me.
“Technically, I don’t.” I shrug.
“Fine,” he bumps his shoulder into mine, “when are you going to tell her you like to bat and catch?”
“Fuck off.” I shake my head, unable to hold back my grin.
Epilogue
My Los Muertos makeup reflects back at me from the darkened window beside his front door. It’s been a while since I put this on and I thought tonight would be the perfect occasion. I look up and down the street, I’m in central Whitsborough right now and it’s quite different than where I live on the outskirts. The houses are smaller here and closer in proximity. Noise will be an issue, good thing I scouted this motherfucker’s life before I came and that was difficult considering I wanted to kill him the first night I heard about him.
My anger has been swirling hot for days now and the molten lava flowing through my veins leaves my insides feeling scorched. My body is practically humming with the energy it’s consuming just to keep itself together. I could’ve held this off until I got back from Spain but I needed to do it now, within hours of when I have to be on that plane. I close my eyes and take a few
deep breaths, I really don’t want this to be over quickly because I will need to savour the feel of his blood and remember every detail so I can look back on this for years to come.
I look back into the house and every light is off save for the dim night light shining from the kitchen. He likes to keep the vent light on at night for when he wakes up and pads to the kitchen for a late night drink. Which he does often, seems the man has demons that plague him when he shuts his eyes and I am about to send him to those demons for the rest of his eternity.
I quickly go around to the side of his house and he has a single door leading to his garage that he never locks. I slip in through there and see his older version Chevy pickup truck parked inside. There are also bags of baseball equipment that look older than me lining the far wall. I slip around the truck, over the four gas cans he has behind the truck and find the three steps up to the door that leads to the house, grabbing an aluminum baseball bat on my way. Seems a fitting weapon to use.
The door swings open and I step into a laundry room. The musky smell of sweat hits my nostrils and I turn to see an overflowing basket of dirty laundry. I leave the laundry room and turn right in the hallway, running my gloved hand along one wall and the bat along the other. The smell of tobacco is strong and I think of Travis which only adds fuel to my fire. The cigarette smoke isn’t fresh but it was definitely smoked not too long ago.
There are no stairs in this house, just a single floor bungalow, two bedrooms and two baths. I’ve been stopping by for visits each night this week, so the layout is practically imprinted on my brain. Like for instance, I know as I pass the door on my right, it’s a powder room with a filthy toilet and peeling linoleum floors. The next door on my left is some sort of office with a computer full of child pornography, he also had pictures of children and among them I found Travis and also a picture of Marlana with her group of bitches. I packed those all up last night and they sit safely in a locked briefcase inside Shelby’s trunk. The last door straight ahead is where I am headed, it’s the master bedroom and inside is the sleeping form of the pedophile Coach Halbert. I slowly open the door, and step into the room. He has yellowed lace curtains hanging from his window, his carpet is a brown shag-not sure if that’s the original colour-with large round stains in it and his double sized bed has a single sheet on it that’s currently wrapped around his fat body.
I walk up to the side of the bed, lean the bat against the edge and look down into his red, pock filled face and try to simmer the rage. I want him to suffer and not let him die quickly by stabbing my blade through his eye, but the urge to do so is overwhelming. His beefy, red lips smack together in his sleep and I fight back against wanting to slice them off.
“Coach.” I say into the room. He flies up into a sitting position in the middle of the bed and the sheet falls off his body. He’s as naked as the day he was born and he’s sporting a very unimpressive erection. “Which boy were you dreaming about?” I sneer and point to his little dick. He takes one look at my face and begins to scream. I pick up his stinking, sweaty sheet and stuff it into his gaping mouth. “Shut the fuck up.”
He reaches up with his fat, sausage fingers and tries to pull it out. I hold my knife up to his face and grin, “please do that so I can free you of those pesky fingers.” I poke my blade into his forefinger. He drops his hand and his body begins to tremble. “You know what’s funny?” I muse as I look down at him, “every male predator I’ve killed has cried and trembled before death. Why is that?” I bend over and look him in the eye, “you prey on others, abuse them and intimidate them, but when it comes down to fighting to survive, you all fold like little bitches.” I slap his cheek and grin, “are you going to piss yourself, too? Did any of the boys you fucked piss themselves from fear?”
He starts to mumble around the sheet in his mouth and I roll my eyes. “If I take it out and you scream, I will shove my knife through your throat and watch it come out the other side. We clear?” He nods and I rip out the blanket. He begins to cough and holds his throat like my threat caused him actual pain.
“I can give you information if you leave me alone.” He begs as his eyes begin to water, “I have so much dirt on important people in this town.”
“Really?” I mock interest, “give me an idea of what you got so I can consider this trade.”
“The Whitsborough police chief is corrupt and can be paid off to ignore certain things.”
“Like you fucking young boys?” I ask, tilting my head to the side.
“Or for watching videos of it and having pictures.” His mouth begins to tremble, he’s probably realizing he’s not getting away with this.
“That’s good and all but not enough compensation to just walk away from a filthy animal like you.” I shrug as I pick the blanket back up.
“Wait!” He puts his hands out, “there’s a group of us.”
“A group of who exactly?”
“A group who enjoys the same… ah… proclivities.”
“You mean raping young boys who trust and look up to you?” I demand.
“Or just rape in general.”
What the fuck? Where the fuck am I living? Whitsborough looks like a Stepford town on the outside but really it’s teeming with underground indiscretions.
“So, who do we have in this group?” I ask as I tap the point of my blade to my mouth.
“There are quite a few. I have them all on a file.”
“Give me an idea, name a few.”
“Okay… there’s the elementary school principal Andrew Cox, then there’s fire chief Wilson McKay and Judge Joseph Watkins.”
“Hmm, that is a pretty important group of individuals, is there anyone else in Precious Blood Academy?”
“No.” He shakes his head. Perfect.
“You’re going to get out of bed and get me that file.” When he doesn’t move I widen my eyes, “now!” He jumps up so fast it’s almost comical watching his fat belly bounce, until he’s standing and I see that his large hanging gut covers his small penis. Gross. I follow him as he makes his way into the office, banging the bat on the floor with each step. The noise makes his walk a little jerky and his nervousness pisses me off even more.
Inside the office he goes straight for the desk and opens the top drawer then he pulls out a letter sized envelope and gives it to me. Inside is a small green USB, “that has every name and information on every person in the group. It also has the name and list of victims belonging to the serial rapist of Whitsborough.”
“Alright, lets head out to the living room, you can take a seat out on the recliner.” I smile wide and watch as his chin begins to wobble.
“Can I get some clothes on?”
“I think not. This is the body of a rapist!” I proclaim, “why not show it off huh?”
He walks back down the hallway and we enter his small living room that also couples as his dining room. When he gets to the chair, I swing out the bat and hit him hard in his left knee. He cries out and lands on the floor, clutching his leg. I pick up a dirty sock that’s laying on the floor and stuff it so far into his mouth he gags and tears spill out onto his cheeks. “Sit in the chair,” I grit out between my teeth.
He slowly hobbles his way into the chair and sits like he’s told. He begins to shake his head profusely and mumble around the sock in his mouth but I’m done delaying the inevitable. I hold the bat in both hands and butt it hard into his gut. His eyes go wide and his scream is muffled by the sock.
“You know, I was never good at baseball. It was really hard for me to hit such a small ball with a bat.” I pull back the bat and butt it into his balls, I don’t hit too hard just enough to cause pain. “I’ve gotten better though, clearly.” I throw the bat aside and pull my knife out of my hoodie pocket. He’s still grabbing his junk and crying as he rocks back and forth in his seat. When I haven’t attacked in some time he looks up at me and startles when he sees the knife in my hand. “You really didn’t think I was leavin
g you alive, did you?”
His mumbling increases and I pull the sock from his mouth. Both his hands come to his face as he begins to cry, so I take advantage of his unprotected genitalia and press the point of my knife into it. As soon as he feels it, his body becomes completely still and he lowers his hands from his face slowly.
“Any final words?” I ask him.
“You’re here because of Travis.” It’s not a question, so I don’t bother to answer. “He knows more than you think.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because he knows the serial rapist of Whitsborough.”
“And that is who?” I ask, losing my patience.
“It was Robert Greene.” He rushes out, “Robert Greene was the Whitsborough rapist and Travis knew all about it.”
I stuff the sock back into his mouth, then I grab a hold of his flaccid dick in my left hand and slice right through it with the knife in my right. His muffled screeching sounds like music to my ears as I watch the blood pour out from between his legs and over the recliner. He begins to convulse and I know he’s about to pass out from the pain and blood loss combined. I grab his balding head in my hand and run the blade across his throat, reveling in the sight of the blood running down his chest and the gurgled sounds coming from his throat.
I douse his body with the gas from the garage and make sure the area around him is soaked as well. Then, with the USB tucked safely in my pocket I light a match and throw it behind me. I hear the swoosh as the fire catches and with my gloved hands, I raise the hood of my sweater and exit the house through the front door.