ten #3
“I made him laugh, you dumbfuck,” Leo responds over my incomprehensible stammers, and I am relieved. I had no idea what to say and still don't know why I laughed. What’s wrong with me?
“Who’s he anyway? I don’t think I recognize ‘im.” Critter squints at me through beady eyes. I freeze. I feel like a little boy caught in my mother’s clothes.
My cheeks flame, so I look down, breaking any and all eye contact.
I told Leo this would never work. I stick out like a Gucci handbag amongst Louis Vuitton.
“Name’s Cali. He’s new, but that none of your fucking business, and let’s not forget who is asking the questions here, Critter. Where the fuck did the other 4 Gs of snow go? If you like having your dick attached to your body, you will use a sentence that does not include the words ‘I don’t know’.”
Leo is menacing, his words coming out between gritted teeth.
The hissing noise that makes up each syllable fills the alleyway.
“I- I- I used it,” Critter finally admits through labored breaths, and Leo lowers his hand.
I catch Leo smiling, as proud of himself for finally managing to get it out of Critter.
It was a horrible way to get an answer out of the poor man.
If he uses whatever drug they are referring to, then he needs help, not a beating.
“Not all of it, though. I gave some to hookers in exchange for favors.”
Favors? I grimace at that.
“Thank you for admitting it.” Leo’s voice switches from firm to gentle in an instance. Leo hoists Critter up, straightening his posture and fixing his shirt. Leo's posture is stiff, but his face is almost sickeningly sweet. Where’s Leo going with this?
“You’re not gonna tell Uncle Peadar, are ya?” Critter’s eyes are watery.
“You mean you don’t want him to know that the goods he so generously gave you to sell were, instead, used so you can dip your dick in a hooker? How many girls did you trade that coke to, huh? You still hanging around those high school parking lots lookin’ for girls half your age?”
Leo’s voice is harsher with each word uttered.
“Please. He will kill me. Please.” Critter falls to his knees, hands steepled in front of him as if in prayer as he looks up at Leo.
“And what makes you think I give a single fuck about your life, huh?”
A chill goes down my spine at Leo's words, the cold indifference that is somehow woven between each and every dictation.
My stomach rolls. How could I have kissed someone like this?
Someone that is this cold and heartless.
Someone that has no remorse for beating a man up and is literally watching him beg for his life without blinking. How could someone be this way?
“It won’t happen again. I promise. Please.” Critter’s bloody hands grasp Leo's shoes. Leo grimaces and steps aside, his gaze still locked on Critter.
He doesn’t say anything, instead he knees Critter in the face.
The crack of his jaw ricochets off the walls and the dumpster in the alleyway, so loud when it finds its way to my ears, I have the urge to cover them.
Critter falls to the ground, grabbing his face, more blood gushing between his fingers.
Leo kicks him in the stomach. “That’s for stealing from Peadar,” he says.
He kicks him again. “That’s for lying to me.” Critter groans and rolls over. Leo then flicks the butt of his cigarette on his motionless form.
Leo doesn’t even spare me a glance as he ducks out of the alley.
I carefully step around Critter, his body now writhing in pain.
I should probably check on him, offer him some kind of assistance, maybe even call 911, but I can’t.
I am under Leo's control. I don’t have a choice; I have to follow Leo.
I find Leo as soon as I get back onto the street.
“Shouldn’t you call someone to help him?” I whisper.
“Nah. He’ll be fine.” Leo waves my concern away. Leo begins walking, and I don’t have any choice but to follow him.
“Leo, I think he’s severely hurt. He could have internal bleeding. He needs help. Don’t you have any feelings at all for a human life?” I try to give Leo the benefit of the doubt. Give him an opportunity to do the right thing for once in his life and help someone in need.
“I care about people. Critter stopped caring about people a long fucking time ago.” Leo doesn’t make eye contact with me.
“He is a human being, Leo. How could you be such a monster and just leave him like that?”
Something in my question has Leo’s quick steps faltering.
He turns in the middle of the street to look at me through squinted eyes, as menacing as the gun they match.
Good. Maybe he will finally see that he is a monster. A cold, heartless monster.
“You don’t know him, Cali.” Leo’s jaw tightens. “I've known that piece of shit for fourteen years. You saw a guy with a busted nose. I saw a guy who trades drugs for sex with underage girls.”
That was a lot. I close my mouth and swallow my moral dilemma.
I didn’t know that he gave underaged girls drugs so that he could have sex with them— but did that mean he deserves the beating he just took?
I’m not exactly sure of the answer, and the fact that I’m even contemplating the question scares me.
It’s a human life. It should be cut and dry. No one deserves to die, do they?