27. Saint #2
“Damn, bro.” He taps my arm with the back of his hand. “The chicks at your fancy school are totally on another level of hot. Shame I got my girl here.”
This asshole sounds like he belongs in that chick flick Theory loves to watch…where they shop and shit and say “as if” to everything.
I glare down at where Luke touched me, then follow his line of sight to a petite brunette in the far corner with her friends. She’s a cute little thing in a short dress, arms folded like she’s waiting for a bomb to go off.
And given what she likely just saw, not surprised.
The sucker in me is tempted to kick his ass out and call her over to sit, since it’s obvious she’s nervous…or maybe it’s just me digging for reasons to gut this motherfucker.
“And you don’t think your girl’s totally hot?”
“Yeah, of course I do.” He scoffs. “I wouldn’t be with her if she wasn’t.
Pretty faces only go so far, you feel me?
” There’s a creepy grin forming that raises red flags even in my diabolical head.
“Take this one I spotted on the way down here, arguing with some red headed dude. Hot as fuck, for sure a great lay.”
This guy reeks of sewer and insecurities.
The complete opposite of what’s building my road to destruction.
I need someone darker— meaner —to hurt again. Or can at least put up a fight like Coby. Luke here would fold faster than the stack of pancakes I tried making for Hendrix.
Deciding the loser’s not worth the time it’ll take to pluck his huge teeth from my knuckles, I jut my chin to the exit. “Get lost and go fuck her, then.”
Brendan finally returns holding a tray of whiskey and some cups, placing them down on the empty bench in front of us to start pouring.
He’s handing me my drink when Luke responds, “Oh, I would’ve if it wasn’t for the rest of her.”
A guy this ugly is in no position to be picky. In fact, rearranging his face might just be doing him a service.
Brendan is a clueless jackass on the field and off. So, when he offers a cup to Luke I snatch it, dropping my blunt inside, giving it back to him with eyes screaming “fuck off before I kill you during practice.”
He does just that…without even a glance at Levi moving on to getting dry humped.
“So tell me, Luke. What was wrong with the rest of her?” I bring the cup to my lips and sip, ignoring the laughable scowl he’s got directed at me.
“I don’t do fat chicks. They’re gross.”
Spoken like a true pussy bitch.
“What’s the matter? Afraid of a little extra meat?”
His face twists like he’s smelled something rancid.
“Let’s just say the one upstairs had a little too much.”
“Mhmmm…I see.”
Rage filters through my veins, rising high and fast with every thump of my pulse.
So much you’d think this guy’s firing shots directly at me.
I may do a lot of fucked up shit, but body shaming women is a hard line I won’t cross unless it’s warranted.
“Damn, Luke. You must think pretty highly of yourself to have such big feelings.”
“You bet your ass I do.” He rests his arms over the back of the bench. “And it’s a shame…fatty had some pretty green eyes behind her bangs. The kind you just know would look sexy as fuck staring at you with a mouthful of cock.”
I freeze mid sip of whiskey, awareness hitting like a punch to my chest.
Fuck Hendrix’s size, there isn’t anyone in this school— in this fucking world —who has eyes like hers to be mistaken.
And the world I just mentioned?
It’s about to be burned to the ground thanks to this slimy, punk ass pussy bitch Luke.
Zero fucks given that he doesn’t know her. Or me.
Or how crazy I get when it comes to what’s mine.
I’m not talking about the hot or sexy comments. Guys in our school have been saying that shit for months. Fuck those comments.
It’s the others that I know would feed those insecurities Hendrix tries to hide from me— those have my pulse going rampant.
I stare at the guy, unblinking as I picture my hands squeezing his temples until his eyeballs explode out of their sockets.
The satisfaction of it makes my stomach tingle with anticipation, followed by a chuckle rising from my chest. One that quickly turns into a fit of laughter Levi recognizes well enough to start prying blondie off him.
Luke takes in my unusual state, then uses his confusion as a reason to stand.
“Tell me, Luke.” I catch his wrist, twisting it. “What’s your favorite way to die?”
He winces. “Stevenson, dude. Chill. You’re hurting me.”
A love tap compared to what my imagination is doing to him.
“What’s your favorite way to die?”
“I have no idea.”
“Why the fuck not?”
“Uh. Because nobody wants to die.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
I yank him forward, my ability to blink not only returning, but moving at rapid speed. “C’mon, Luke, my man . There’s gotta be something in that noggin of yours besides trash and swiss cheese.”
His swallow is massive. “I don’t know…I guess in my sleep?”
“Fucking. Basic. Luke!” I boom, smashing the cup on the floor.
“Basic and boring!” Pulling him onto the seat, I dig my fingers into his chin, forcing him to watch my hand eclipsing over the ceiling.
“There are endless possibilities. Drowning, choking, burning. Getting eaten by a mama bear.” With a grimace, I tell him, “Yikes on that last one, am-I-right?”
“Total yikes. Now get off.” He attempts to break free, which only adds to the excitement of knowing he’s scared.
“Wait, wait, wait.” My nails rip past skin. “I still need to tell you my favorite.”
Levi whistles, indicating for everyone to get out, and they start doing so in droves.
“Not the girlfriend and fight runner. They stay where they are,” I demand, eyes still on Luke.
“Stevenson, what the fuck?” Luke grunts when I squeeze his neck, standing us both up.
“So…you enjoy body shaming women, huh?”
He shakes his head, lips pressing into a line as I walk him backwards across the wide, now near empty room.
“Oh…don’t backpedal now, prince charming. Speak your truth with your whole fucking chest.”
“I told you, man. I didn’t come here for trouble.”
“Well, I guess trouble just fell into your lap.”
We enter the ring, and like a foot to a jammed door I kick Luke in the stomach, sending him flying onto the bloody ground as his cousin and girlfriend look on.
“You,” I snap to Gunner on the other side, “are about to regret bringing this piece of shit to Fight Night without asking.”
Gunner fumbles through an apology, and God I fucking hate how quick these wannabe tough guys from Riverside turn to little bitches when it comes to me. Levi knows this, it’s why he silences him with a hand over his mouth.
Using a crooked finger I call over Luke’s girlfriend, who’s got tears in her eyes when she stops in front of me. “And you, sweetheart…” I boop her nose. “Really need to find a new boyfriend.”
“I don’t understand…”
“What’s your name?”
“A-Alice…”
“Well, Alice, as you can tell… this isn’t Wonderland. ”
Passing her to get to Luke, my arms spread wide. “I’d look away, sweetheart. Things are about. To get. Gnarly.”
Luke may be a loser, but he’s not an idiot, because the second he stands he’s gunning for me.
It’s a smart move, but not a successful one.
Because I block his swing to my face with my arm, then grip the nape of his neck, smashing our heads together, repeating the process until I’m dizzy. My vision is blurry as I watch him stagger back, calling out to Gunner for help.
A stupid move this time, because the guy’s cousin proves his shortage of loyalty by shaking his head.
Blowing out a breath, I pop my lips. “Well, that’s awkward.”
After allowing Luke five seconds of gaping I charge, tackling him to the ground. Then, with a leg hiked over his torso, my fists swing wildly at his face.
He attempts to block me with his forearms, but all it does is rouse the craving for violence. Mayhem. Hunger for more blood.
So much I swoop down and dig my teeth into his earlobe, relishing in his screams as I tear off a chunk and spit it across the ring.
The girlfriend screams obscenities as I hammer his skull into the concrete, rendering the piece of shit unconscious.
With a tilt of my head, I examine my work, then call out to innocent, crying, pleading, Alice, “Looks like you may not have a choice but to find a new boyfriend, sweetheart! Seems this one’s out of order.”
The rush of euphoria, determination, and absolute fury takes over, making me dizzy. Incoherent to anything but the urge to get lost in all three. To keep falling, in spite of the sober, faint voice in my head telling me not to let go.
That I’ll regret it in the morning when I’m me again.
Fuck you, I inwardly tell my conscience, the hypocritical motherfucker who’s been hiding up until now, then slam my palm against my forehead until his voice is gone.
Shoving a hand into my pocket, I cast a glance at Levi. For the first time in a week I can feel concern radiating off him. Cursing himself knowing he should’ve but didn’t stop me before letting it get this far.
Who’s thinking maybe he should’ve encouraged me to take my actual meds instead of self-medicating with drugs and violence.
There’s always been a thin line between Saint and Vicious, seems my best friend has been too distracted with his own demons to help me tame mine. Because now my monster has broken through the fortress, baring his teeth and claws in the version of Halo.
“Saint…” Levi warns, taking a step toward me.
“You’re gonna want to stop right there, brother.”
This monster doesn’t discriminate.
Levi’s seen first-hand the damage I can cause when I’m pushed to this mood, so, begrudgingly, he heeds the warning.
And I go back to focusing on my original target.
Halo glides with ease along my bloody knuckles, tingles erupting as I flex them.
“Whaddya say, buddy, hm?” I hold my hand in front of me. “Chest? Neck? Mouth?”
Voices emerge in whispers on top of each other, each more sadistic than the last, growing louder and drowning out every other person in the room.
Fading their features.
Emptying them to vessels.
Until there’s nothing to home in on except a demand…which I obey without hesitation.
Voices poof and features return as I jump to my feet, tucking Halo back into my pocket and trudging over to a bottle of whiskey left on the ground.
“Saint, please, bro, don’t!” Gunner begs as I snatch it up, but fuck that guy, my monster’s on a mission.
When I reach Luke, his head’s fallen to the side, not a soul stupid enough to help him while I pour the contents of the bottle up and down his body.
His girlfriend’s cries turn frantic as she spots the lighter I pull from my pocket, even worse as I drop to my haunches and press it to his chest.
“Turns out Halo isn’t my favorite way for you to die.”
“Please, please, please,” Alice screeches, proving me wrong about her stupidity as she jets my way.
Levi intercepts the advance, turning her from a deer to lioness. “You psycho piece of shit!” she screams, bringing every ounce of my adrenaline to an abrupt halt.
Because suddenly, it’s Hendrix’s voice that breaks through, reminding me of when she begged me not to hurt Stevenson.
A pussy who didn’t have balls big enough to protect her.
Therefore deserved what he got.
Just like this motherfucker deserves what he’s about to get.
I’m the one who hurt Hendrix first.
Me.
So I have to be the one to make sure no one does ever again.
I have to.
I have to.
I fucking have to!
A vision of Hendrix appears in the distance, bringing forth a deafening crack, making the ground rumble beneath my feet and my lungs collapse.
The pain. The self-hatred. The blistering rage.
They turn the world around us a hazy red.
Look what you did to me, Jimi.
I tell her, swaying.
I’m a fucking mess.
Hendrix moves closer, the red haze not far behind.
Crack.
She reaches her arm out for me.
Crack .
Utters my name.
Crack.
Usually, by now, I’d be steady, breathing and popping pills, begging for an escape from the disaster I know is waiting for me in the haze.
But my monster’s hungrier than ever…and for the first time in a long time I’m willing to give him whatever he wants.
“Paint,” Hendrix whispers, then disappears only to reappear knelt in front of me touching my cheek.
“Him.”
She leans in, lips so close, so fucking real I can taste them.
“ Red.”
I nod and Hendrix smiles, pulling away just enough for us to look down at Luke, who’s been reduced once again to a featureless vessel.
“I’ll never let anyone hurt you like I did,” I whisper to her right before my thumb flicks the lighter…and he ignites into flames.
Hendrix reaches for my hand, still smiling at me as the sound of blood curdling screams fill the air, and the scent of flesh burning fills my nostrils.
Then the red haze engulfs us both.