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She takes her hands away from her face and looks up at me with upturned brown eyes.
“No,” she says through clenched teeth.
I take a moment to study her expression. I do not immediately recall the look. It frustrates me when it takes longer than usual to figure out an emotion. Letting out a deep breath, I reach down and once again grab her by the arm, yanking her to her feet.
Her small fist beat at my chest as I escort her out of the room and into the hall.
“Let me go. I said let me fucking go,” she shouts as she continues to fight me.
I stop walking and swing her around to face me. “Stop,” the word is spoken lowly, but she immediately quits fighting against me.
Closing my eyes, I focus on my breathing.
“The disrespectful whore doesn’t even appreciate your kindness.” Mother’s voice quickly points out. “You should march her back in the room and peel the flesh from her whore face.”
“No,” I say out loud.
“Weak. You are weak.” Her voice taunts. “The scripture says those that are in the flesh can not please God. You have not learned your lesson, Boy. Do what you are called to do.”
“Shut up,” I shout.
When I open my eyes, I find her staring at me. This time it does not take me long to decipher her expression. Fear. She’s afraid.
“You will behave,” I tell her.
She doesn’t respond, but she also doesn’t try to pull away when I grab her arm this time. Until I’m ready to end her, I will have to keep her with me. There are three more people on my menus. After I’ve dealt with them, I’ll deal with her.
“Come.”
I walk her out of the apartment, my hand still wrapped around her bicep. The cleanup crew will be here soon, and I need to be long gone by then.
chapter Four
Monster
Summer
The giant walks me through the streets of Manhattan like I’m a miss behaving toddler. His grip on my arm doesn’t loosen one bit. If it did, I would definitely run.
We don’t talk as we head to Grand Central station. He doesn’t even let my arm go as he pays the toll. We board the train heading back toward lower Manhattan and take a seat near the back. He places the black duffle bag down at his feet.
A man across from us watches me warily, I try with all my might to ask for help with my eyes.
“Don’t,” his gruff voice comes from beside me.
I turn to see him staring at me. How is it possible someone so beautiful could be so deranged?
“You will only get him killed.”
I wholeheartedly believe this monster will kill this man if he tries to help me. I mean it isn’t hard to believe, he peeled poor Greg like an orange.
“Do you enjoy taking people’s lives? Do you get some sick satisfaction from murder?” I ask curtly.
No, I’m not quiet with my question either. I want people to hear. Although, I know it won’t help. I’m on a New York subway, people are trained to ignore their surroundings.
“Yes,” he replies easily as if I asked him if he’s enjoying the weather.
That was not what I was expecting him to say. Although, when I think about it, I don’t know why I thought he would respond any other way. You can’t do what he did if you don’t enjoy it.
