18. Chapter Eighteen
Climbing on my bike, I rev the engine and take off. I don’t have a destination in mind; I just know I have to leave. I have to get out of here before I march back down that beach, beat the shit out of her new boyfriend, and throw Riley over my shoulder. The way I”m feeling right now, I”m more than happy to be arrested for kidnapping if it means I get to keep her.
The street signs whiz past me as I get faster and faster. Part of me is tempted to call Kelly and let her work out some of my tension, but since she”s the cause, well maybe not the cause, but she”s at least partly to blame, I decide against it. Instead, I turn off and drive out onto the open road. I continue driving until I spot a little bar in the middle of nowhere. Pulling up to it, I make my way inside.
“I”ll take a beer and a whisky,” I say to the woman behind the bar.
She brings the beer and then comes over to pour my whiskey. “Leave the bottle,” I say as I reach out and pour myself a larger serving.
“But sir,” the shy blond behind the bar tries saying.
“I said, leave the fucking bottle!” I snap. She leaves the bottle and scurries away. I keep drinking and drinking and drinking until the bottle is almost gone.
“Drinking to celebrate or forget?” a woman beside me leans over and asks.
“Both. Drinking to celebrate escaping jail and to forget the things I had to do when inside,” I deadpan. I barely manage to keep a straight face when the stupid bitch almost falls off her chair in shock as she scurries to leave. I take out a wad of cash from my wallet and throw it on the counter, grabbing the rest of my bottle on my way out. As soon as the air hits me it almost knocks me off my feet. Fuck, there’s no way I can drive back in this state.
Staggering back inside I find the quiet bartender again. “Where”s the nearest motel?” I slur the words at her.
“Err, turn left, head to the bottom of the road. It”s about ten or so minutes walk and then you”ll see a side road. It”s just down there, you can”t miss it.”
I throw another $20 on the bar, although I have no idea what for, and head back outside. I do the best I can to follow the instructions but I swear the roads keep moving around me. Or maybe it”s the rest of the whiskey I drink as I”m walking. Finally, I find what I”m looking for. I bang on the door, expecting it to be closed, but fall straight through when I realize it”s open.
“Fuck,” I shout as I fall headfirst.
“Looking for a room?” a guy laughs.
“Yup.” I hiccup.
“Follow me,” he says, handing me a room key.
When I attempt to grab it but miss, he turns around and picks up a different key.
“On second thought, this may be a better option,” he says as he leads me literally ten steps and through the nearest door.
It”s a tiny room, barely big enough for the bed and bathroom, but I don”t care. I close the door, kick off my boots, and flop on the bed.
I wake up somewhere around 1 a.m. to the sound of god awful singing. Peering out the door, the noise is coming from down the corridor. Not even bothering to try and find my shoes, I grab the key and make my way out to locate the sound.
I don”t have to go far; just a few doors down I find it. great. Fucking Karaoke. I bang on the door and it”s opened by a youngish girl in just some silk pajamas.
“Who ordered a stripper?” she shouts as she pulls me inside.
As soon as I get in I”m greeted by another four or five squealing girls. All around me are penis balloons and banners informing me that it”s Lucy”s bachelorette party. Oh great. Just what I fucking need.
“Who’s he?” one girl questions as she pokes at me like I’m some animal in the zoo.
“I dunno, the stripper I guess,” shrugs the one who answered the door.
A round of “I didn’t order a stripper” can be heard before it finally dawns on her. I’m not a fucking stripper!
“Well, you”re here now so entertain us,” another woman shouts as she flings herself over me, but I push her, causing her to fall onto the floor.
“Ooof, I like it a little rough,” she laughs as she stands back up, but makes no attempt to sit back on my lap.
“So what are you doing here then?” the first girl asks.
We establish that I”m just a guest here, the same as them, and that I only came to ask them to keep the noise down so I could get back to sleep. They apologize and ask me to stay saying they’ve got enough food and drinks to pacify an army. While the idea of any more alcohol right now isn”t the least bit inviting, the idea of pizza and cake, even if that cake is in the shape of a penis, seems too good to pass up.
One of the girls goes and fixes a plate for me, and then somehow I become an unofficial member of the party. By 3 a.m. though, all but me and two of the women have passed out for the night.
“You know,” says Blondie. Pretty sure that”s not actually her name but she”s blonde, so it’ll do. “I”ve always fantasized about having a one night stand.”
“So have one, one night of wild fun. Never to be repeated again,” chimes Big Tits.
“It”s just like one of those novels we read at book club isn”t it?” chimes Blondie again.
“What do you say, Hot Stuff? Wanna make two college girls very happy?” Big Tits purrs as she rubs her hand across my definitely not-awake cock.
I take one look at them, and it’s clear neither of them are college girls, and probably haven’t been in at least the last ten years but I let it slide and think, fuck it.
I allow them to guide me across the corridor to their empty room. Once inside, I lock the door and demand they both remove those stupid matching pink pajamas.
They both do as I ask, whispering and giggling amongst themselves.
I take a seat on the bed, undo my jeans, and slip them off my legs.
Both girls make their way over in nothing but their underwear. And begin pawing at me. One attempts to kiss me, but soon changes her mind when I throw her a death stare.
“On your fucking knees,” I demand. Both girls oblige even though I was only actually talking to one.
“Put it in your mouth,” I groan.
I feel one of the girls remove my dick from my boxers, but rather than spring to attention it just droops down. One of the girls attempts to revive it by stroking her hand up and down repeatedly, but nothing happens, not even a twitch.
“Come here, I”ll show you,” the other girl says, physically pushing her friend out of the way. She attempts to give it the kiss of life. But still, my traitor of a dick refuses to budge.
“Err, maybe you drank too much,” one of them tries to soothe, but it just annoys me more. I bend down to pick up my jeans and spot my phone lying on the floor. As soon as I reach for it I”m greeted by Riley”s picture. The one of her reading on the beach. When the fuck did I set that as my lock screen?
Like a rocket, my cock suddenly springs to attention. “Oh looks like we have lift off,” the girls giggle. I feel one of the girls wrap their lips around me and begin sucking. I continue staring at the picture while this girl goes to town on me. Finally, I squirt my load. Next, the other girl wants her turn. I try. But straight away I know this isn”t right. “Get on all fours,” I demand. Hoping that if I can”t see her face it won”t seem like I”m betraying Riley so much. Perhaps I can fool myself into believing this is Riley. Just like I did with her friend”s mouth earlier. I try my hardest, but just a few thrusts later and my dick is still as soft and flat as a pancake.
“This ain’t working,” I say as I push the girl away, pull up my boxers. I grab my trousers and shoes from the floor and walk out the door.
I walk back to my room not giving a fuck that I’m only wearing boxers and a t-shirt and throw myself back on the bed. Once I get comfortable, I pull out my phone, set it to Riley’s picture and prepare to finish what I started earlier. I take out my now throbbing, hard as steel dick and pump it to her picture until I’m blowing my load. Then I drift off to sleep.
I don”t wake up till early evening by which time I feel sober enough to drive.
As I get near town, I pull up to gas up my bike, and find a voice message from John.
“You’re a fucking asshole Gabe, you have put the work back a whole weekend. The boys all had to work overtime. We’re all at Saints, I suggest you get your ass here and buy us a drink.”
I call John, my boss, apologizing for the fact I”ve completely skipped two days of work. He”s annoyed of course, but knows he can”t really say much since I know where the bodies are buried…literally.
“I”ll be back at work tomorrow. I”ll even work over the weekend to make it up to you,” I say begrudgingly.
“Fine, but don’t make a motherfucking habit out of it,”” John replies, “Oh and you still owe us all a drink, so get your ass to Saints, now.”
Internally I grimace at the thought of spending my night stuck with the scumbags from work.
“I’m on my way,” I say before hanging up. Spending my night with the guys I work with is the last thing I wanna do, but I haven”t got much choice in the matter. Some of the guys I work with are okay, especially Jack. He’s an annoying prick at times, but I know when we”re together on a job it”s gonna go quick, at least.
Unfortunately though, I know exactly which ‘boys’ John will be with, his five goonies. Saints Sinners as they stupidly call themselves. Satan”s spawn more like. Each one is more disgusting and devious than the last. I know I can be a dickhead 99% of the time and am known for being kind of heartless with women but these five are something else entirely. They hunt and share women like it”s a sport and find some sort of sadistic pleasure in hunting their prey. That”s how me and Declan, the bartender in Saints, became friendly in the first place. We both do our bit to minimize their reach in our own ways. Nothing would please me more than to kill the lot of them with my bare hands, but as John”s right-hand man I learned young that power and fear work much better to keep yourself safe. While they respect me, they don’t fuck with me. I stay quiet and pretend I don’t wanna kill every last one of them. It keeps me safe and in control.
I jump on my bike and head straight to Saints. I walk in and see Declan at the end of the bar flirting with some brunette. I eye a half empty bottle of rum still on the side which I grab and head back outside.
“I saw that,” Declan shouts from behind me.
“Good, then do your fucking job and put it on my tab,” I reply with a smirk.
I push the door open and head outside to the patio. I hear Marko’s disgusting laugh and resist the urge to smash the bottle over his head. No point wasting a decent bottle of rum.
“Move,” I snap, placing my hand on the back of Deeno’s chair.
I see Deeno”s eyes widen as he turns to look at me. He”s a big guy, over six foot tall and built like a boxer. But he”s the newest and youngest member of the Sinners and still hasn”t quite figured me out yet.
“Did I fucking stutter?” I ask, turning to the group.
“No, sorry man,” Deeno stutters as he stands and pulls over an empty chair.
Sitting down beside John, I listen as the group continues excitedly discussing beating some poor guy to a pulp over some debt he owed.
“Gabe, is it true you killed a guy when you were just fifteen?” Deeno asks nervously.
“Sure it is; I was there,” John replies as he proudly pats me on the back. I move out of his reach and give him a death glare. He knows full well I hate being touched.
“Why do you think I”ve had this kid working for me since he was in diapers?” John chuckles.
“Thought the old man had gone senile when he told me this lil runt was coming to work with us,” Mike replies. Going into detail about what a scruffy, skinny little runt thirteen-year-old me was.
I then listen as John and Mike, both men in their late fifties, talk about me like my shitty childhood is some sort of villain origin story.
“So his dad was a nasty son of a bitch, beat him and his brother constantly…”
“Wait, you got a brother?” Deeno chimes in, as he looks at me.
“Yeah, and mention him again and I”ll gut you right there where you sit,” I growl back at the piece of shit.
“The brother’s off limits, don”t even know the kid’s name,” I hear Marko whisper from beside him.
“So, as I was saying, kid learned how to take a punch young, and was desperate to please his old man, so started working with me when he was just a boy…” John continues as I tune them out again.
“.... then one day some punk tried breaking into my van and this goddamn beast, really he was just a kid, had the balls to challenge the punk and beat him over the head with a metal pole killing the bastard right then and there.” John chuckles like he’s telling a funny story about something stupid his grandkid did.
I take a large gulp of the rum and enjoy the burn as it hits my throat and I shift uncomfortably. What John conveniently leaves out of this story is how it really went down.
I”ve been sitting here on this cold, hard floor for hours. My father and his cronies dragged me out of bed at the ass crack of dawn and demanded that I follow them on another hair-brained scheme.
I barely had time to throw on a thin shirt, a pair of jeans and some sneakers before a black balaclava was thrust into my hands. Turns out one of the cronies found out about some big ass mansion being unoccupied from the owner”s gardener, and of course that gave them all the bright idea to rob it.
Of course, I was tasked with hopping the fence and shimming my way through a small window because, unlike these fat bastards, I am the only one agile and thin enough to do it.
We wasted no time stealing everything our grubby hands could carry.
The rest of the gang wasted no time, taking their newly found riches to either the local pawn shop or whore house. But me, I”ve been sitting right here in this shitty ass, abandoned barn, slowly freezing to death, tasked with guarding our share of the loot for hours, and I”m exhausted. I spot a thin piece of tarp and pull it around me, desperately hoping for some warmth as the cold winter air whips and whistles around me.
I must drift off as the next thing I hear is voices and clattering. Someone’s here.
“The drunk bastard told me the goods are in here,” a voice says, just as I see a flashlight illuminate the wall behind me. Fuck, what do I do?
I see two dark figures appear and my first instinct is to hide, but I am terrified of what my father will do if he finds out I was sleeping and let someone rob us. I just freeze.
“Looky here, not much of a guard dog are you?” one of the guys laughs when he sees me.
“I have a gun!” I shout back, as I scramble for the gun John gave me for protection. The gun I keep in my belt but have no idea how to shoot.
“Let’s go,” one of the guys says to the other.
“Nah, fuck him. I’m not running cuz of some punk ass kid,” the other replies.
I pick up the gun, and point it at the main guy. “Last chance!” I shout despite the tremble in my voice. The guy laughs so I close my eyes and pull the trigger.
“Fuck this shit!” I hear one of the guys shout as his footsteps get heavier.
I open my eyes to see him running away, while the second guy is glaring right at me.
“Missed me,” he taunts as he runs straight towards me. I try to aim again but before I have a chance, I”m being tackled to the floor and the guy is straddling me.
I try to get away, but I”m on my back on the floor, all I see is long greasy hair as the guy’s hands find their way around my throat.
“Think you can fire a gun at me, do you? Maybe you should learn how to fucking shoot first,” the guy bellows, as his hands get tighter and tighter and dark spots appear in my vision.
All I see is his long hair as my eyes begin to blur. In a panic, I try to push him off, or get his hands from around my throat but he”s too strong. I desperately try to buck him off as my body moves and my legs kick but he”s too big and heavy. The panic and fear take over. My arms fly out grabbing for something, anything to hit him with. I start to see even more spots and my lungs are on fire. Finally, my fingers connect with something hard. I grab it and with all the strength left in my scrawny, neglected body and I swing it, hitting my attacker straight on the head. He falls off me with a thump.
I release whatever is in my hand and begin coughing and spluttering as the air finally returns to my lungs. I roll over and see my attacker lying beside me. I scramble to my knees to look at him and all I see is a vacant look in his eyes. Fuck!
I turn my head and see the blood covered crow bar I”d been holding moments ago. Fuck, fuck, fuck what have I done?
I try to shake the guy, praying he”s just knocked out. Please wake up! Please be okay.
I shake and shake but he doesn”t even blink. CPR! We learned about that last year in health class. What was that goddamn tune?? Staying alive that”s it!
I begin pounding on his chest as I desperately try to get my brain to remember the tune. That breathing thing!
I remember you have to give them air sometimes so I pinch his nose as hard as I can and begin blowing into his mouth. Nothing! I go back to pounding on his chest again, as hard as I can but still nothing. Please don”t be dead, please! God, if you”re real, I know I”m not exactly a good kid but if you bring him back to life, I’ll be good, I promise. I”ll even go to church on Sunday with Nate and his friend. I promise!
I try once more giving him breaths and then I place my ear against his chest praying to hear a heartbeat, but it’s silent. The tears stream down my face as reality sinks in. He”s dead. I killed him. The bile rises in my tummy and I barely have time to move before I”m throwing up all over the floor. The bile mixed with the little bits of undigested food flies out of me like a scene from The Exorcist as my body expels every morsel I”ve eaten in what feels like my whole life. Once it finally stops, I stagger outside not caring that the rain spills down on me. I flop down on the floor and sit in silence as the rain pours down, soaking me to my very core. I don”t know how long I sit there, praying that the water will somehow wash away my sins. But eventually, I feel a hand on my shoulder.
“What the fuck you doing out here, son?” someone says. I look up and see John crouched down in front of me.
Out of instinct I throw my arms around his neck and bury my head in his shirt.
“I fucked up… he’s dead… I killed him,” I sob.
“Who is?” John asks, as he pulls me up to my feet.
I feel sudden pain in my head as a hand connects with the back of it.
“What the fuck you doing? Men don’t hug!” my father bellows as he yanks me away by the collar of my jacket.
“Sorry,” I mumble as I quickly wipe away my tears, knowing how much my father hates to see his sons appear weak.
“What the fuck?” I hear from inside.
I turn and run inside just in time to see Mike standing over the body.
“Did you do this?” Mike asks, looking at me. I nod my head.
I wait for the shock, disgust, anger. I expect the men to be just as mortified with the gruesome sight as I am but when I look, my father has the biggest grin on his face I”ve ever seen. I didn”t even know my father was capable of smiling.
“That”s my boy!” my father beams proudly, pounding me on the back.
“Are you okay, Gabe?” John asks as he places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes it.
“Of course he is, my boy’s a goddamn machine,” my father beams.
“He’s a kid, Scott,” Mike says, sounding concerned.
“He”s a man!” my father cheers as he throws his arm around my neck and for the first time in my life shows me some real, honest affection.
“I”m going for a piss,” I announce as I leave the guys all chatting about the worst night of my life.
I head into the bathroom and throw some water on my face. I stare at my reflection for a moment, hating the person staring back at me. I stand there for a moment wondering if this was the monster I was always destined to be. Or if I would have been a different person if that night had never happened. I pull out a cigarette from my pocket and light it right then and there, not giving a fuck where I am.
I continue watching my reflection as my mind heads back to that time in my life. How after that night my father finally seemed to want me. He no longer hit me or treated me like a burden. No, instead, he seemed almost affectionate towards me. He’d often throw his arm around me or pat me on the shoulder. And despite the fact I”d spent most of my childhood praying that one day he’d hug me or hold me, his actions actually made my skin crawl. Even now the idea of anyone holding me, hugging me, or even just brushing up against me gives me that same dirty, disgusting feeling.
Someone walks into the bathroom and breaks me out of my memories. “You can”t smoke in here,” the guy remarks. I look down at his uptight dress slacks and decide it would be too easy to beat his ass. I just brush past him and leave.
I walk out to my bike but as I reach into my pocket for my phone I realize I don”t have it. Fuck! I left it outside on the table. Letting out an exasperated breath I make my way back into the bar. I walk past Declan who gives me a confused look.
“There you bloody are! Did you fall down the fucking toilet or something?”” John laughs.
“Nah, he probably found a ‘lil bathroom bunny to fuck,” Marko smirks, as he peers around some drunken whore on his lap.
“Probably Kelly,” Deeno laughs. Just the mention of her name would be enough to make my dick crawl back inside my body, but I rather they believe that, than the truth. So I just shrug and look away with a disinterested look on my face.
Declan arrives and begins collecting the empty glasses just as I”m searching the table for my phone.
“More drinks?” he asks. Grumbles of “same” and “ another” echo around the table.
“I”ll have a Coke to go with that bottle of rum,” Marko’s lap warmer slurs.
“Give her a beer, one of the cheap ones,” I reply, snatching the bottle of rum from the table along with my phone.
“But I wanted rum,” the woman whines nasally.
“Cheap beer it is,” Declan nods as I place the rum bottle on his tray, letting me know he’ll be switching her drink out for water, our little code for ‘sober this bitch up and get her outta here quick.’
“See you fuckers tomorrow,” I say as I walk off, not even giving them a chance to reply.
I drive home and as soon as I get there, I jump in the shower, doing my best to wash away the memories still desperately swirling around in my mind. Wrapping a towel around my waist, I make my way into my bedroom. As I walk past Nate”s room I hear him on the phone to Izzy. He must have it on speaker. I stop and press my ear against the door and hear the two of them laughing, joking, and teasing each other.
A bunch of emotions bombard me. Part of me wants to gag at how goddamn cringy and pathetic they both sound. Another part of me is annoyed at the sound of that witch”s voice. I know I need to put the past behind us and give her a chance since Nate’s made it pretty fucking clear she’s not going anywhere, but I just can’t forgive her. I hear them laughing again and I feel a mix of sadness and jealousy that I”ll never have that.
I head to my bedroom, reach for my phone and I”m again met with that picture. The one of Riley. I know I need to change it, but since she”s still refusing to answer my calls, it”s the only way I get to see her. For a moment when I wake in the mornings, I get to pretend she’s still mine and that I didn’t fucking destroy my one shot at happiness.
Feeling unusually hopeful, I try again to call her. But just the same as the last ten times I tried, it just serves to reconfirm that I”m still blocked. So I throw on a pair of boxers and climb into bed.