Chapter 22
NATE (SENIOR YEAR, HIGH SCHOOL)
Idrive over the familiar curb, my truck bouncing along the fractured cement as I wind my way up the battered driveway. The rutted pavement forces me to reduce my speed or end up with a flat tire. Ellie’s beat up Cavalier is not parked in her normal spot. She must still be at the library, studying.
That’s good, I’m not here for her.
I get out of my truck and slam the door shut—loud enough to get his attention.
When I don’t see movement in the house, I walk to the back of my truck to get what I need from the trunk.
His pretty black Escalade sits in the drive, a harsh contrast to the deprived condition of his meager home.
The lustrous black hue shines brightly under the sun, the painted exterior in perfect condition. Not a nick or a scratch in sight.
I walk over to his prized vehicle wondering how much time and attention he puts into caring for it. It’s washed and waxed and perfectly maintained. That’s a shame.
I pull my arm back and swing it forward with all my strength.
The baseball bat in my hand connects with that driver’s side window, causing the glass to shatter onto the pavement at my feet.
I walk around to the front of the car and swing at both headlights, smashing the plastic cover that protects each bulb.
I rear back again, this time hitting the hood of the car and leaving several dents in my wake.
I continue my assault around the entire vehicle, busting out every window, popping every tire, and denting every inch of the flawless paint.
Leaving the car unlocked was his second mistake. I wouldn’t have been able to do as much damage if the alarm sounded sooner. His first mistake was putting his fucking hands on Ellie. That mistake comes with a price.
I open the car door and hit the panic alarm, then step behind the vehicle and wait. A few seconds later, I hear the front door slam open as Chris emerges from his home.
“What the fuck. WHAT THE FUCK!” he yells when he sees the damage I inflicted on his car. He runs over to the driver’s side, cursing the whole way. I walk out from the back of the car and stand behind him as he assesses his destroyed vehicle.
I grab ahold of his sweaty white t-shirt and push him forward, forcing the front of his body up against the Escalade. I pin him in place with my legs as he struggles against my hold.
“Whoa, whoa… I don’t got nothin’ you want. I swear it, man,” he stutters the words in his panic. I can smell the alcohol on his breath as he sputters through his pleas.
“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” I seethe, “you do have something I want. Something I want more than anything. And you hurt her. So now? I have to hurt you,” I state nonchalantly, as if we are discussing the weather.
“What the fuck are you talking about, man?” he cries out as the fear of my declaration has him fighting harder.
I pull him back into my body and slam him forward again.
He wails out in pain as his face connects with the metal framework of the car.
A gush of blood flows from his now broken nose, and tears stream down his face.
I move in close, my lips right up against his ear. “Ellie. You hurt Ellie,” I growl, my voice low so I don’t attract attention from the neighbors. “You put your filthy fucking hands on what is MINE, and well, you see, Chris? I am having a really hard time trying not to kill you for it.”
“It…it was an accident. I…I swear it. I’ve never hurt her before. She’s my daughter!”
“No. She’s not your daughter, Chris. Which is why you think it’s ok to say filthy, vile things about her, right?
” I give him a small shove. “Do you think that’s ok?
” I ask calmly. “Do you think it’s ok to look at her?
To look at what’s mine? Do you think it’s ok to want what’s mine?
To get into her bed at night and wait for her like she belongs to you?
Like you didn’t fucking raise her?! DO YOU, CHRIS!
?” I lift my knee up and lunge it into his back, causing him to gasp for air. “You sick fucking pig.”
“No!” he coughs out. “No…I…swear… Jesus Christ, I swear, I won’t look at her ever again.
Please, just don’t do anything crazy here, man.
” His pathetic cries are only pissing me off.
I turn him around and slam his back against the car.
I let him look me in the eye. I let him see my barely contained rage.
I let him see the monster that lays dormant, the one that will destroy anyone who hurts Ellie.
“Get on your knees,” I demand. The fucking coward drops to the ground, a large wet stain decorating the front of his pants. The strong scent of urine wafts up my nose and I scoff at the pathetic mess he is. “Beg.”
“Wha…what?” he whimpers, seemingly too drunk to stand up and stop embarrassing himself.
“Beg. Me,” I say again, and I nearly laugh at his bug-eyed expression. “Beg me to let you walk away from this without broken legs. Beg me to let you keep the use of your hands. BEG ME!”
“Please!” he pleads, but I see the anger creeping into his gaze. He’s sobering up from the humiliation. “Please, I won’t ever touch or look at her. Just don’t…do anything stupid,” he says with disdain, his eyes hardening. I don’t like that one bit.
I turn to walk away, letting him believe I’m satisfied with his pleas.
At the last second I shift, kicking him in his gut.
Hard. He falls forward as he struggles for air.
I bring my knee up to his face; a sickening crunch sounds when my hard kneecap meets his cheek.
He falls to his side, cradling the side of his face and his abdomen.
I bend down, balancing my weight on my knees, and grip his hair as I yank his head to my lips.
I lean in and whisper in his ear, “Touch her again, and I will saw off your hands. Look at her again, and I will sew your eyes shut. Say anything…un-fatherly…again, and I will cut out your tongue and choke you with it.” I let go of his hair and let his head fall back.
I stand up slowly and walk back toward my car.
I look over my shoulder, at the pitiful excuse for a man lying next to his battered car.
“Good talk, Chris,” I call out, the smile in my tone betraying the very threatening conversation we just had. “I’ll see you around.”
I get into my car and watch Chris struggle to stand up as I pull out of the driveway. I think about the violence I just executed and the nauseated feeling that usually accompanies that kind of aggression.
I don’t feel it.
I have spent so much of my life terrified of becoming him.
Petrified that I was destined to follow in his footsteps.
Certain that it was contagious, and it was just a matter of time before the sickness spread to me.
I believed I was designed to hurt the people I am supposed to love.
That I was born with the same innate evil, an uncontrollable rage meant to satisfy the sadistic craving for violence.
The funny thing is, today showed me that I am nothing like my father. What happened with Chris wasn’t an uncontrolled, unrestrained madness. I didn’t act on a desire to maim and humiliate someone. I didn’t focus my rage on someone inferior, someone innocent.
I know that I would never hurt someone that I love. I would never hurt someone that didn’t deserve it. My monster isn’t born from the immoral, depraved genetics of an abusive, narcissistic asshole.
My monster is born from survival.
This inner beast is meant to protect me, and that protection now extends to Ellie. I won’t keep him leashed. Not anymore. Now that I’ve felt the power he gives me, I will keep him close. Because now that I have a life worth living, someone to live for? I’m going to fight to keep it.
I’ll need that beast nearby for my first battle, my biggest enemy.
Nathaniel Westin.