Chapter 25
Van
We’re in the basement of an old apartment complex. No one will hear his screams from here; no one is around. He’s tied to the chair, his eyes staying locked angrily on mine as I pace back and forth in front of him. I wanted to kill him slowly. Drag it out and make it hurt. Then, I wanted to kill him quickly. Just get it over with and get back to my girl and my son. Now I’m undecided. But I have time. That’s one thing on my side.
“I thought about cuttin’ your throat,” I tell him as I pull my knife free and twirl it between my fingers. “Thought about shootin’ you in the head, too. None of them seem enough now,” I say as I stand in front of him, pressing the tip of my knife into his cheek.
“I think you should make him fight you like a man. See how hard he can really hit since he likes to hit girls,” Free suggests as he stands off to the side. I look over at him and nod my head in agreement before looking back at Derrick.
“You like that? Hittin’ on women? Not just any women, pregnant women.” I cut the tape covering his mouth so he could speak, and he does.
“She’ll never be yours, you son of a bitch!”
“Really? Whose bed do you think she was warmin’ last night?” I ask him. He shakes in the chair, trying to pull himself free, but it does no good. “Whose cock do you think she was ridin’ this mornin’?”
He lets out a roar as he tugs at the binds keeping him tied to the chair.
“I’ll kill you. I’ll kill her, too. I’ll make you watch her suck my cock as I slit her dumb little throat!” I raise an eyebrow before glancing over at the guys with a smirk on my face.
“Is that a threat? I think that sounds like a threat.”
“Sounded that way to me,” Pike adds.
“Me too,” Mask agrees as I turn back to the asshole in the chair.
“Let’s get back to reality. You aren’t gonna touch her. She isn’t yours anymore. And there’s only way one out of here,” I tell him.
“Which is?”
“Through me.” He laughs, and it’s a sick, dark laugh. Yeah, Chy was right. He’s definitely on drugs. I’m just not sure what.
“You think you scare me? You don’t fucking scare me. I could easily take you and your boys!” He roars. I laugh now as I walk behind him and cut the rope holding him in place. Then I kick the chair as hard as I can, knocking it out from under him and watching him fall to the floor. He quickly stands and turns to face me, his hands clenched and ready for a fight.
“You gonna show me how you hit her?” I ask him, taunting him. I want him to lose control. I want him to hit me the way he hit her. I’m ready for him.
“You motherfucker!” He roars before lunging at me. I drop the knife from my hand, and it clatters to the floor right when he slams into me. I’m knocked back, hitting the wall behind me with a thud. His fist comes up faster than I thought it would, and he lands one to my eye. I counter that with a punch to his ribs, knocking the air from his lungs. He gasps and steps back to catch his breath as I motion for him to come again. He does. He comes back at me, and this time, I’m ready.
We slam into each other and fall to the floor in a heap of limbs. We both swing, some hitting, others missing. That doesn’t stop us, though. No, we keep going like this. Rolling around the dirty ass floor of this old apartment complex, swinging on each other.
He gets a few good hits in before I think about the black eye Chy had. The more I can see it, the angrier I become. I swing, punching him in the face, sending his head flying to one side, blood spraying the other way. He returns the punch, and my head bounces off the hard floor. I shove him with all my might and get the weight shifted off me so I can easily flip him on his back now.
I hover over him, my hands around his neck.
“How’s it feel motherfucker?” I ask him as I choke the hell out of him. “Huh? How does it feel to lose?” I ask as I keep the pressure on him. He’s struggling, bucking his hips, trying to get me off him, and clawing at my hands. There’s no use. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not letting him go. This is it. These are his final moments.
“I was ridin’ that pretty little ass of hers. I’m the one bein’ daddy to that little boy. When he wakes up, I feed him. I hold him. He. Is. Mine.” I squeeze harder, wanting this to be over so I can get back to Chy and Nate. I want this to be over so she never has to worry about him again. I never want her to think of this motherfucker. I never want him to be a fear in her mind.
I keep squeezing even as his eyes roll back in his head. I keep squeezing, picturing Chy chained to a bed. I keep going until I feel one of the guys placing their hand on my shoulder. Only then do I stop. I look up and see Free standing there, nodding his head.
“He’s dead, brother.”
“Not dead enough,” I tell him. I release my grip on the motherfucker and stand. I look down at him and wonder what it was like to take that last breath, what it was like to feel what she felt.
“I think he’s pretty dead,” Mask says.
“I should do it all over again. Bring the motherfucker back and start all over.”
“That takes too much time,” Pike chuckles.
“True. So now what?” I ask them.
“Now we get this cleaned up, and you head home to your old lady and your son.” I like the sound of that. I like hearing them call Nate my son because that’s exactly what he is. He’s mine, and no one can take him away from me now.
“You think it was too quick?” I ask them.
“No. I think you dragged it out enough,” Mask says as we walk toward the door. I pull out a cigarette and light it up as we climb the stairs from the basement.
“I don’t know. I wanted him to feel what she felt.”
“I think he did. You beat his ass pretty good,” Pike tells me. I nod my head and think about it. I did beat his ass pretty well. Maybe that was enough. I don’t know. I can’t help but feel like I didn’t do enough.
We step out into the night, and I take a deep breath. It’s over. It’s finally over.
“You feel better now?” Mask asks me as we lean against the building and have a smoke.
“Yeah, I think I do. Chy won’t have to look over her shoulder anymore. She won’t have to worry every time she goes out now. That makes it all worth it, yeah?” Mask nods, and so do the others.
“How do you think she’s gonna take it?”
“I told her it had to be done. There was no way around it. She’s not gonna have much of a choice but to deal with it. I get he was there for her once before, but he changed. He went crazy on her, and that’s not somethin’ I could let slide, you know?”
“I get it, brother. I do. I think you made the right choice by goin’ after his ass.”
“Thanks, man.”
“Ready to get back to your girl?” Mask asks me. I nod my head and take one last drag from my cigarette before flicking it through the sky.
“Damn right, I am.” We walk over to the bikes and climb on, revving the fuckers up while Mask texts the clean-up guys. When he’s done, we pull out and take off toward the clubhouse. It isn’t a long drive, but it’s long enough for me to decide what to say to Chy. I know what she needs to hear, and I know what I feel.
Nodding to myself, I slow down as we pull into the parking lot of the clubhouse. I kill the engine and climb off my bike before strolling toward the door like nothing happened.
When I step inside, I spot her. How could I not? She’s like a fucking magnet that pulls me to her. She looks up, her eyes making note of the bruise I’m sure is showing on my face by now. Her lips part, but all I can do is smile at her.
Chyanne shoves out of the chair, passing Nate off to Nicole before she comes my way. At first, she walks slowly, unsure what to do, but when she gets closer, she runs and slams into my arms. I wrap my arms around her, holding her against me.
“You said you weren’t going to get hurt,” she says as she looks up at my eye.
“It’s minor. I promise that’s the only thing that’s hurt,” I tell her.
“Are you sure?” She steps back and starts to check me over, which I think is sweet of her. She grabs my hands and notes the bloody and bruised knuckles. I just shrug it off and pull her back into my arms.
“How’s my boy doin’?”
“He’s good. Loves his aunt Nicole.”
“Did he miss me?”
“We both missed you, Van.”
“Good. That’s what I wanted to hear,” I tell Chy before leaning down and kissing her. Her lips taste like heaven, and I’m one fucking happy man. When we finally pull apart, I rest my forehead against hers. “I love you, Chyanne.”
“What?” she gasps.
“You heard me. I love you.”
“Are you sure?” Now I laugh.
“Of course, I’m sure. I never want to be without you. I can’t stand the thought of not bein’ with you, baby.”
“Van. I feel the same way about you.”
“Then don’t leave me. I know what I did is gonna weigh on your mind, but I needed to do it, Chy. I needed to know he would never get his hands on Nate or you again. You have to be able to understand that,” I nearly plead with her.
“I get it, Van. It’s hard. It’s weird and not normal, but I get it. And I’m thankful for you.”
“You are huh?”
“Yeah, I am.”
“Just how thankful?” I ask her, teasing a little. Her cheeks heat up, turning a pretty shade of pink before she presses up and kisses me. When she pulls away, Nicole is next to us, holding out a little bundle of baby to me. I reach out and take him, pulling him into my arms.
“He’s perfect,” I tell her.
“He’s pretty great.”
“We’re goin’ to my mom’s tomorrow,” I inform her.
“Are you sure about all this?” she asks once more.
“Oh, I’m sure. This is my boy, Chy.”