Page 3 of Love in Fear

I don’t bury my anger in the moment, no use in hiding the monster that I truly am.

Iamthe man that the world at large has made me.

Rolling my shoulders, I feel as if I can breathe for the first time in too many months to count. Letting the mask that I wear day to day slip free, and allowing it to show on my face is freeing, so is openly being who I am, it’s an indescribable feeling..

“I-I-I don’t have any idea wh-wh-what you’re talking about. I’ve done nothing but serve first your father, and now you for m-m-m-m-my whole life.” I watch the man that spoke, trying to find some kind of caring emotion inside of me for the closest person that I would’ve considered to be a friend.

Yet, like every therapist my sad mother took me to has ever said, “A true Psychopath, like that at this age, will never truly know what it means to feel. They can watch others and mimic them, but they’ll never know real, honest emotion.”

She’d cry every time afterward, and I’d just watch, fascinated by her tears, not understanding why she was taking the way I am as hard as she was. I’ve never understood the point of shedding tears. They don’t help fix things in any way. I’ve learned over the years to imitate how others react, I watch to see what others do and what they say. How they act when emotional things happen, whether they’re good or bad. Knowing that the only thing to ever make me, well, feel, was when someone else was hurting at my own hand. That’s why the Boss knew that I’d be able to do what no other son could, because at the end of the day, the only thing that means anything to me is loyalty and honesty. Without those, you’re of no use to me.

Letting my right shoulder droop I just shake my head, I say, “Drew, we both know that the only thing that means anything in our lifestyle, in my inner-circle, is trust as well as complete and utter loyalty. I agree, you were loyal to the man who raised me. The issue at hand lies with the fact that you,” stab, “are,” stab, “not,” stab, “loyal,” this time, when I say the last word, I twist the blade into the meat of his leg, “To. Me.” I finish by ripping the serrated knife out of his thigh, being sure to do the maximum amount of damage possible.

Drew screams in agony, causing the men on either side of him to twist and pull at their bindings, as if during the last ten minutes something has changed for them, and they’re going to break free. Turning away, I walk over to the table where all my instruments are laid out, pondering what I’d like to do next. The itch to watch the life drain from these men is at a point that I know I won’t be able to drag the torture out for long.

It’s been too long since I’ve felt blood coat my fingers. I need the release.

The men behind me continue to scream, pleading like the worthless pieces of shits that they are, when I finally decide on my next toy. Picking up a pair of meat sheers, I turn back, ready to halt the screams, right now, they’re useless. I haven’t even begun to play, so their noise is inconsequential, but soon, it won’t be. Their bellowing will be caused by my hands, and that’s when I’ll be able to enjoy the wailing sounds, and dance to the music of their screams. They come to a crescendo when the slithering tongue of the man that I know isn’t behind my missing shipments, but was the middle man, the catalyst that set the ball in motion, is removed.

Oh, this is going to be so much fun! The man I know to be the traitor, lets one tear fall free as he drops his chin to his chest, silently admitting his defeat.

CHAPTERTHREE

EVORA

My blaringalarm pulls me awake from my never-ending nightmare. I lay there covered in sweat as it pours from me, soaking the sheets around me, counting my breathing, and trying to settle my anxiety before I start my day at work.

I make it to my job just in time. I sigh as I look up at the building in front of me trying to figure out why I chose to do this to myself. I don’t know how I’m going to manage to get through today or any other day. Being at the hospital last night, and then the near collision afterward, has my nerves so frayed that I can barely think and when I do, anxiety squeezes my throat so tight that I might pass out. The only solution right now, is to run and start over someplace new… again. It’s what I’ve done since the day I escaped from what was my living nightmare.

Huffing, I turn my car off, yanking the key from the ignition, thankful it doesn’t break in half during the process I push the door of my battered car open, reaching over the center console, I grab my nursing and lunch bag. I sigh one last time before I step out onto the brand-new paved parking lot.

Slowly, I make my way across the parking lot and into the urgent care facility where I’m a CNA. I’m beyond grateful that over the last year I’ve been able to stay in the same place and get my certification. Once I make it through the back door, to my desk, I pull the bottom drawer open, dropping my bags in them and locking it. Pulling my chair out, I plop down and login into my computer. Once I get everything pulled up in the system, I see that we already have a full waiting room of patients. Reaching into my bag I pull out my stethoscope and badge just as I hear the door to one of the rooms open.

“I’ll buy your coffee every day for the next two weeks if you take room four,” my best, and well… only friend, Clelia begs.

“Why in the heck would I do that? What are you not telling me?” I raise an eyebrow as I turn to eye her warily.

“I don’t know, something about the guy just rubs me the wrong way. He’s a complete fucking tool, and the girl with him is just… too young. It’s just a lot. I can't do it,” she growls glaring at the heavy door like she can send it, and the people behind it, directly to hell.

“Is he from here? What are they doing here?” I ask.

“No, they aren’t from here. They were traveling to some resort, and he started throwing up, and wasn’t unable to drive this morning when they were getting ready to leave their hotel, so Little Miss got scared, and made him come here. The ick factor is just way too much for me. I just can’t do it. Please!” Clelia nearly whines, reminding me of a toddler ready to beg and plead for a new toy.

“I need more than coffee to take on something this big. Sweeten the deal, what else have you got for me?” I tap my chin as if I’m thinking of how she can repay me.

“Name the ever-loving price you wench. I’ve got a room full of patients to deal with. Give it to me and tell me exactly what it’s going to take for me to not ever have to step into that room, ever again.” Clelia glares at me.

“Coffee, massage, and you take my Saturday shift this week.” I wink taking the iPad from her hands.

“Fine, you win. I will give you my first born if it means you’ll deal with the felony in that room!” She whisper-yells, before pretending to throw up.

I turn looking at her, knowing my eyes wide enough to fall out of my head in shock at her words. “Clelia, you better not say shit like that out loud where the staff and patients can hear you. You’ll get us both fired!”

“You will completely understand when you get in there.” Clelia shivers in disgust.

I shake my head because this woman is a whole lot of crazy wrapped in a tiny body. Whoever finally gets her to see them and give them the time of day will have the time of their life. When I make it to the heavy door I knock twice before entering the room. I just want to know what’s going on so we can get these people on their way.

“Hi, I’m nurse Evora. Can you tell me what brings you to urgent care tonight?” I question still checking the chart on the iPad in front of me.