Chapter 4 #2
"Are you alive?" I ask quietly.
"Yes, just wanna sleep."
His breathing evens out gradually, his body relaxing into sleep.
But I lie awake, listening to his heartbeat.
Steady. Calm. Utterly certain of what we are and what we've become together.
Jessica won't be back, as it was clear she sensed some danger and was uncomfortable.
Besides, we leave New Zealand in two days and that annoying busybody can be left in the past.
Somewhere in Europe
We're in a rental car, driving through countryside I haven't bothered to identify as I haven’t got a fucking idea about where we are and I don’t care.
We arrived in Lyon a week ago and decided to do a road trip with no direction to where we are going.
Chase is navigating, his phone propped on the dashboard.
It's late afternoon, the sun low and golden.
"Turn left at the next intersection," Chase says.
I do and the road narrows, trees pressing close on either side. That's when I see them. Two men standing in the middle of the road. One is holding a tire iron and the other has a gun, a small caliber, probably a 9mm. I slow the car, but I don't stop.
"Shit," Chase says quietly.
"Stay in the car, whatever happens."
The men approach. The one with the gun taps on my window, and I lower it halfway.
"Out of the car," he says. "Both of you. Now."
I assess the situation. The gun is real but poorly maintained. The man holding it has his finger on the trigger, which is an amateur mistake. The other man is larger, more confident, but his stance is wrong. He's used to intimidation, but I doubt he has ever thrown a punch, successfully anyway.
"No," I say.
The man with the gun blinks. "What?"
"I said no."
He raises the gun, pointing it at my face. "I will shoot you."
"You'll try."
I open the door fast, slamming it into his arm. The gun goes off and the bullet hits the roof of the car, missing me by inches. I'm out of the vehicle before he can recover, my hand closing around his wrist as I twist it. The bone breaks with a wet snap just as he screams, dropping the gun.
The second man swings the tire iron at my head. I duck, step inside his reach, and drive my elbow into his throat before he staggers back, choking.
Because I had to leave my baseball bat in the US, I decided to buy a new one for this road trip, as I felt lost without one. I’m glad I did. I go to the trunk and pull out the brand new shiny bat, excited that I get to break it in.
The man with the broken wrist is on his knees, cradling his arm. Without a second thought, I swing the bat once, connecting with his skull, the lovely melody of crunching bone and blood stokes that fire in my chest.
The second man is still choking and now trying to run. I catch him easily as the first swing hits his knee, making him collapse into a ball on the ground. The second swing hits his ribs and he shouts out in pain, sounding like some night animal hurt in the wild.
"Please, don’t," he gasps. So fucking pathetic. What kind of person threatens your life then whines because he is scared you have the upper hand? Annoyed at hearing his voice, the third swing silences him as the bat smashes into his face.
I stand over both bodies, breathing steady, my heart rate barely elevated. The entire encounter took less than two minutes. Not bad.
I turn to look at the car and see that Chase is standing outside it, his hand on the open door, his blue eyes wide. He watched the whole thing and I can’t tell if it was as fun for him as it was for me.
I can’t focus on him too much as I need to get rid of the bodies, but fortunately this road appears very quiet.
I drag both bodies into the trees, far enough from the road that they won't be immediately visible.
Then I wipe down the bat with some tissues from the car, return it to the trunk, and get back in the driver's seat.
Chase gets back into the car and hasn’t said a word, he is staring straight ahead, his hands clenched in his lap. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say.
"Are you hurt?" I ask, thinking of nothing else to ask.
"No."
I start the car and continue driving. After ten minutes, Chase finally speaks.
"You killed them. Just like that."
"Yes, I did."
"I’ve never seen someone get killed before, that violently."
"Did you enjoy it?"
“What kind of question is that? Who the hell enjoys murder?”
“You need to be more open minded.”
“I think I’m gonna throw up,” he says, and I turn briefly to look at him clutching his stomach.
“Really? Do you think the milk was bad this morning? I thought it tasted off.”
“Fucking hell, Noah! No it isn’t the fucking milk. Maybe it’s watching two random guys be smashed to death with a baseball bat, and us driving away like nothing has happened.”
Chase has never been this hysterical before and it’s not a situation I’ve been in with him before. I can’t decide between choking him until he calms down or reassuring him, but that is not possible as I have no fucking idea how you comfort someone.
“Relax, baby. Let’s find a hotel so you can calm down.”
“I swear to god, Noah, I’m gonna kill you myself if you don’t stop talking.”
That’s more like it. I reach over and grab his cock through his pants.
“Is that what you want? Hmm? To tussle with me? Threatening me like that is a risk, baby. I might be tempted to see if you can take the baseball bat in the ass as good as you can take a candle.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Are you questioning me?”
I feel a twitch under his pants from his dick and I chuckle to myself. I think those two dead guys were a divine intervention in Chase’s journey to the dark side.
"Have you done that before? Killed someone with a bat?"
"Yes, it’s my favorite way. I like the results it gives, how it smashes someone to pieces."
He's quiet for another mile. Then: "You looked..."
"What?"
"Beautiful. You looked beautiful."
I was not expecting that.