Chapter Six
2336 Words
Normalcy isn’t exactly in the cards for me. I accepted that a long time ago.
So when my life, albeit now as a stripper, continues to coast on by without any issue, I start to get nervous. I’m making enough money to not only pay the bills, but put some food in my fridge, and I now have a kickass friend to boot.
Shit is bound to hit the fan at some point. Which is why it doesn’t come as a surprise to see the doppelgänger again and again. He still doesn’t tip me, hasn’t since that Benjamin he stuffed in my shoe the first night. Yet still, prickles of fear continue to assault my senses every time he’s around.
The manager continues to have issues finding someone to fill my position as a bartender, so tonight, I forego the stage and plant my ass in my spot behind the bar.
I can’t help the anger that boils through me each time I see him. He orders a drink, and I almost don’t want to make it for him even though I know it’s my job to do so. I consider messing it up, but what good would that do?
I keep my head down as the evening progresses, only picking up my gaze to watch my new friend, Kat, dance on stage. She kills it every time. The men love her. I can’t help but notice some of the men who have become our regulars over the past week are now surrounding the bar instead of the stage. It doesn’t take a genius to realize they’re here for me.
Men are stupid.
“When’s your shift over?” Kat asks only minutes after her set is done. She has her civilian clothes on, yet her breasts look as though they’re still about to pop out of her top at any moment.
“Now,” Sean responds behind her, causing her to spin in his direction. Our manager isn’t exactly the most attractive man, and although he’s a bit brash, he’s kind toward all the girls, which makes him good-looking to me. “We’re slowing down quite a bit, so you can leave at any time, Tesla.”
I nod, grateful he’s dismissing me. My need to flee the Crimson City Club has been increasing by the second each time that foster dad twin continues to sit and stare.
“Do you know him?” Kat asks. Of course, I have no plans to answer her here.
Before I can respond that I will tell her later, the man from the shadows appears next to her, and I could swear he wasn’t there mere seconds before.
“You recognize him,” the man says. It was definitely a statement, not a question, and all five syllables amped my anger like someone turning up the gas on a grill, flames licking my vision with each crank.
“Yeah, so? What’s it to you?” I spit back. Seeing the man from my past has me angered, but this shadow creeper has me damn near enraged.
“I know what you want,” he says in a near whisper.
Kat stands there, her eyes darting back and forth between the two of us, and I can tell she wants to stand up for me, but words elude her.
I hold my hand up in her direction, not unkindly, but to let her know she doesn’t need to come to my defense.
I got this.
“Nobody knows what I want.”
Not even me.
* * *
I don’t even bother to serve the shadow creep as I get my things and cash out, my tips sad in comparison to a night of dancing with Kat.
“Was that the same guy who followed you home last week?” Kat asks breathlessly as I storm out the doors of the club. A red hue cloaks us, the Crimson City Club sign casting eerie shadows on our skin and the ground near us.
I stop and turn to her. “I think so.”
Before either of us can say another word, I stalk toward my apartment.
Only a few blocks.
Just a few blocks.
Kat follows, and I’m unsure if I want her to.
Finally, she asks, “Who was he talking about? He said you recognized someone?”
I shoot a wary glance at her. Even though I know my new friend shares a similar past to mine in the trauma department, hers more mental than mine, I still can’t think of any reason I’d want to relive this torture.
I don’t have time to voice my response though.
Instead, fate takes hold of us and captures us in its steely grip.
I nod toward the figure walking to a vehicle in the parking lot next to the club. Kat’s gaze follows mine, a gasp leaving her lips.
It’s him.
Somehow, I’m not surprised to see the man I thought I’d never see again. And now, seeing him outside of the club where the lighting is a bit brighter, there is no doubt in my mind it’s him.
The foster dad who altered my life permanently.
I ignore Kat’s shouts as I approach him, my mind and body so overcome with fury I can’t seem to see straight.
The palm of my hand makes contact with his shoulder, pushing him back onto a red minivan and forcing him to look me in the eye.
His short, round stature dents the side of his ride, and he looks at me with a wide, startled stare.
“Remember me?” I holler, my words causing spittle to cover his face with my fury.
He shakes his head, not out of defiance that he doesn’t recollect me, but out of fear… fear of me.
He should be scared.
I shove him with my palms again, his massive back causing another dent in the side of his mom-van.
“Speak!” I demand. “I want you to be well aware of the child you took seven years ago!”
I can hear Kat’s sobs coming from behind me, her pain and memories all too real for this situation. But I can’t think of her right now. Right now, I need to teach this motherfucker a lesson.
Kat’s scream is muffled with something as I take the plunge into his throat, but I don’t look back to see what stops her from alerting the entire neighborhood to what I’m doing…
Punishment.
He deserves to die.
And I deserve to be fed.
Our bodies collide into asphalt, the hard rock nothing in comparison to the hardness in my heart.
The entire world fades away as I drink, the warmth of his blood coating my insides like warm honey.
Initially, I groan with pleasure, my cravings finally gratified after years of starving. The mere idea that I’m getting revenge on a man who has tortured my soul for so long is just icing on the cake.
But once his memories begin to assault my senses—snapshots of young girls who didn’t get away, didn’t save themselves like I had—I’m not sure I can stomach another gulp of his essence. It’s like reliving my torture all over again as I watch image upon image of their misery. I’m unsure of how to break the bond and completely uncertain of whether I want to or not.
I can’t break away.
I need the blood.
I need to feed.
But their pain is all too real. It’s something they’re probably living with every single day of their lives.
I’m about to break away, my mind unable to see any more of his predatory actions. Suddenly, I absorb the memory of the time he came after me, and I wonder just how often he thinks of it… thinks of us… thinks of how horrible of a man he is to do this to young girls like me.
I can’t take it anymore. I can’t take the pain, the hurt, the torture…
Audible grunts leave my lungs as I break away. I back up, my ass scraping along the dingy, dirty asphalt of the parking lot until my back hits the vehicle next to us.
My assailant lying limp across from me has my mind consumed with doubt at what I’d just done.
I’m a f**k up.
Always a f**k up.
“You have to finish this,” a voice booms beside me. “You can’t walk away this time.”
I wonder how anyone would know about the single encounter I had with this foster dad so many years before. No way could anyone have knowledge of this past that is still haunting me, not unless the round man has chosen to tell someone, which seems farfetched to say the least.
I break the stare I have on the man who ruined my life to see the creepy shadow stalker, his beady eyes boring into me.
He’s holding Kat.
He has her in his grasp, his dark hand covering her mouth so she can’t breathe. The same sensation of being suffocated overtakes me. I have to shake my head and clear my eyes of the tears threatening to take over so I can focus on her again.
He’s the one who shut her up.
So much for Tesla making friends.
I stand up, my legs stronger than they’d been in so very long. It isn’t lost on me that the round man’s blood has given me strength, no matter how much the thought makes my skin crawl.
“End it!” the man demands again, and I fear he’ll do something to her, forcing me to choose between blood and my friend.
I stalk toward him, staring him down as he clutches my friend. Her eyes start rolling into the back of her head.
She’s dying… all because of me.
“This is none of your business!” I scream while pointing to the unconscious round man, his head c****d in an odd direction up against his minivan. “What the hell do you want from me?”
“Your business is my business, Tesla,” he says, a calm reverence overtaking his tone. The fact he can be calm in a situation of chaos actually makes me jealous, and I hate the resentful feeling that overtakes me in that moment.
“What’s it to you? Why the f**k do you care?” Even though my tone is forceful, I keep my volume down. The last thing we need is an audience. The first thing I need is to get the crazy shadow stalker away from Kat.
I wanted to save her… get him off her so she could breathe. But he was big. So very big.
“It’s everything to me. You’re everything to me,” he explains. “You’re the difference between life and death, between hope and sorrow. I know what you are, and if you finish this, you will finally be free.”
I shouldn’t believe him. Anyone who holds a metaphorical knife to my throat holds no power in my life. But maybe he does? After all, he has my friend. He’s killing my friend. Maybe doing what he says will free her… if anything else, I need to try for Kat.
Plus, the bastard lying on the ground bleeding out, the precious blood of his essence wasting away on the dirty ground… well, he might as well die for all I care. He has no business walking this earth with the risk he’ll hurt another unsuspecting foster child like myself… or any child for that matter. Killing him won’t make a difference for anyone but the innocent who might possibly cross his path in the future.
I don’t hesitate any more and barrel toward him, burying my face into the folds of his bleeding neck, forcing myself to breathe in every last drop from his veins.
Just as I feel the last drop of warmth coat my insides, a tether from behind grabs at me, pulling me, pushing me, tugging me…
Something’s not right.
I turn from the man on the ground, remnants of his blood dripping down my chin and making me wish my best friend wasn’t here to see this side of me.
That’s when I saw her… Kat is slumped on the tail end of foster dad’s van, her head lolled to the side and lifeless. I want to run to her, to make it better, to make sure she is still breathing.
But there’s a draw that overtakes my need to save her. Something not natural. Something otherworldly.
A man I don’t recognize stands next to the beady-eyed shadow stalker, his frame towering and forceful. His white hair is muted in the darkness of the parking lot, yet I can still discern it’s white… like old man, stark white. Aside from his hair color, he looks young, his skin that of a thirty-year-old and super pale in comparison to shadow man.
“Let her go, Semion,” the white-haired man seethes. “She doesn’t need to become one of you!”
I don’t know who the pale man is, but I agree with him, regardless of the mysterious pull that is consuming my insides with every move he makes. He’s trying to save Kat, and I am confident in saying I’d never be opposed to that.
“You have no business here, Rune,” Semion says, scowling as he crouches low, ready to pounce.
I’ve been in the middle of all too many bar fights, and talking is usually the best way to keep men from throwing punches.
“What the hell is going on?” I screech, demanding answers from both men.
Rune disregards Semion, stepping toward me and causing me to flinch. “You’re mine now.”
Just as I’m about to protest, he barks one more demand, which causes my entire world to go black.
“Sleep.”
- Writer
