Page 5

15 Years Old

“You’re a man now, son, that means you have to learn your place.”

My father’s words cut deeper than a knife.

“I know my place, my place is to protect my mother and Destiny.”

“No son, your place is to do whatever the fuck I tell you to. Do you hear me?”

I nod in agreement, knowing exactly what happens if I defy my father. He will kill me in a brutal, torturous way. He will make an example out of me, showing that even blood relation means nothing.

My father does whatever he wants. He is in charge of ensuring the rats are caught, tortured, and put on display for everyone to see what happens when they wrong him. If he makes it painless, it’s not fun for him. My mother resents him. My younger sister, Destiny, wants nothing to do with him because of how he treats me.

“Let’s go, I think it’s time you know just how far you will go for your family.”

I don’t hesitate because I know the alternative is death. I follow my dad to the garage and hop in the car as he escorts us to the job site.

We get out in a field, and there are three men, tied by their necks to posts. Hands and feet are bound together behind them, anchoring them further to the posts. There is no one else around besides two new hires my dad has brought on. They are handcuffed and sitting on tree stumps.

I always knew my father got his hands dirty, but I didn’t realize how filthy we were talking. I always assumed murder, since he doesn’t make idle threats. I didn’t know how gruesome it got. He pulls out a leather-bound sack and unrolls it. It has a gun, a knife, and three sticks of dynamite.

He turns, head held high, to address his small audience. His jet black hair slicked back and clean, like he was going to sell a car or some shit.

“We are here today to allow my son the honor of showing his loyalty to our family. Once you’re in, you’re never getting out. Behind me we have three fucking rats who didn’t know what was good for them. They think they can run from me, but I have eyes and ears all over this city.”

He squats down eye level with them, “I think we all know what rats deserve— extermination.” He says with a chuckle.

“My son will get to pick his weapon or weapons of choice. Remember, if either of you— including you son, defy me… You will be next. Whenever you’re ready.”

I stand there staring blankly at the weapons displayed on the makeshift stone table. I can’t pick the gun, my father thinks that is a pussy’s way out of everything.

If I pick the dynamite, that might be too quick, but it would ensure that they are dead.

I finally reach for the knife, I approach the first man to the far left. I take a firm grasp to his ear, knowing he can’t move much or speak with the gag in his mouth. I slice his ear clean off. The knife is so sharp, it cut like butter. “Maybe next time you will listen to your orders.” I say to him, watching him quiver. My father chuckling in the background, as I make my way to the man in the center. I take my knife and carve out each of his eyes. He raped my mother. I overheard my dad talking about the bastard last week, now he can never lay eyes on a woman again. I move to stand before the last man. The last man ratted out my dads plan to our rivals.

“Dad, do you have vice grips?”

“Of course son,” he walks over to retrieve them and places a pair of vice grips into my hand. I remove the gag from his mouth and swiftly plunge the vice grips into his mouth, not caring if i chip his teeth on the way in. I know I have to be ruthless now, or else I will be next.

I grip his tongue and stretch it out as far as I can. While keeping my death grip, I take the blade and slice his tongue clean off. Gurgling sounds come pouring out of his mouth, along with a lot of blood. I feel a sense of relief. It feels good to right the wrongs.

I walk back over to the instruments and grab all three sticks of dynamite and a roll of duct tape that was near the table. I place all stick of dynamite in all three of their mouths and tape them shut leaving only the wick exposed on the outside. I ask my dad for the other two men to do the honors in lighting them for me.

My father was eager and we lit all three sticks. We stepped back and waited all three of them got what they deserved— Death.

Present

I watched her in the voyeur room, looking nervous and timid. She kept clenching her legs together to stop herself from feeling that physical reaction. She fucking loved it. That’s what interests me the most about her: she’s curious. There is something inside of her that needs a fucking wake up call. I couldn’t help staying in the shadows any longer. I need to show her that I don’t make idle threats. I will fucking destroy Evelyn Blackwell, and she will beg me for it.

The night in the club four months ago, she challenged me. Something no one else has ever done. She didn’t cower in the face of a monster. Instead, she wanted to see what kind of deal she could strike, unfortunately for her. This deal could end badly for her.

I don’t need to have a woman permanently. After my mother and sister died, I knew then that death is inevitable. That’s why I choose to hold onto no one. I don’t let anyone in, and I never have to worry about anyone but myself.

That’s where this entire situation gets fucking muddy. When I watch Evelyn, my skin heats and my heart hammers in my chest. I feel like it will genuinely fucking explode if I can’t have her. I know it will go away once I take what I want from her. I need to get it over with already so I can move on with my life.

I keep my eyes on her, studying her where she stands. She looks at me as if she has seen a fucking ghost. She won’t be able to stay away from me for long. She will give herself to me, even if I have to fucking force her.

I make my way confidently down the staircase, not breaking her gaze.