Losers: Part II

I didn’t want to hurt anyone.

I’d clung to that fact, repeated it to myself like a daily prayer. Despite my desires in relationships — and I was sadistic, there was no doubt about that — I didn’t want to cause harm. I wasn’t like my father; I wasn’t like the people who harassed me. The monster that lived inside me was tame, it was controlled. I wasn’t a violent person.

But as I walked into Billy’s Bar, with Jason and Lucas flanking me, the moral compass I’d clung to stopped giving me directions. The lines I’d drawn for myself, the boundaries I’d sought to maintain, no longer fucking mattered.

They’d hurt Jess. Alex and Nate had put their hands on my family more than enough times to warrant retaliation. I’d always held to the belief that physical violence was only needed in defense, but this time, we were on the attack.

It didn’t matter where they went, where they tried to hide. It didn’t matter who their friends or connections were. It didn’t matter if I had to do this in public or private.

They had hurt our girl. They’d stepped so far over the line that they’d fucking shattered it.

I wanted to hurt them in return. All I could think of as we slowly made our way through the crowd, on the lookout for our targets, was how badly I wanted to hear them fucking scream. It wasn’t a wild desire; it wasn’t hot with rage or frantic. The desire to hurt them was calming. It was meditational. It felt good to dwell on thoughts of their agony.

I was furious, yes, but that word didn’t encompass this feeling. It couldn’t convey the monumental sense of needing to see vengeance served. I wasn’t so moralistic and self-obsessed to think that this was the righteous choice, or even a good choice.

This wasn’t about right and wrong; it was far beyond that. The only thing I cared about was protecting my people, my family.

Nothing and no one came before those I loved.

We stalked through the crowd, on constant lookout. Lucas got a displeased nod from the bartender, who looked even less pleased when he spotted the rest of us. He kept wiping down the same cup repeatedly, watching us nervously. He wouldn’t interfere, but someone else might if we weren’t careful.

“There,” Jason said, and I followed his gaze. Nate and Alex were seated at a corner table near the restrooms, hunched over glasses of beer. The lighting in the bar was dim, but Nate’s face was obviously reddened, his eyes bloodshot.

“Looks like the big man took the brunt of that pepper spray,” I said. The pistol under my jacket felt heavy; I passed it to Jason as I turned, keeping it low. He tucked it away under his shirt in one quick movement.

“Well, would you look at who it is?” Alex drawled, when he spotted us approaching his table. Nate glowered at us, his eyes so puffy and swollen I was surprised he could see us at all. “You’ve got big fucking balls to walk into Billy’s, Reed.”

It was true; we usually avoided this place. Billy’s Bar was a real dive, a little hole in the wall that filled to overflowing almost every night. It wasn’t our type of crowd, and I could feel the odd looks from people around us. Especially knowing that my father had been hanging out down here, I could only imagine what the regulars had heard about me.

“And you’ve got no balls at all, considering you attacked two women who haven’t done shit to you,” Jason said. Lucas was silent, but I’d warned him to be on the way over here. The last thing we needed was for him to run his mouth and escalate before we were ready.

“Attacked?” Alex scoffed. “Is that what that bitch told you? That I attacked her? Fucking typical. Why the hell do y’all trust anything she has to say?” He sipped his beer, his lip curled into an ugly smirk. He felt safe here, confident. He didn’t think we could touch him.

“Jess isn’t a liar,” Lucas said, his voice even. “You put your hands on her, McAllister. You waited until she was alone, until there was no one around to help her. You’re a fucking coward.”

Alex rolled his eyes, his foot tapping rapidly on his stool. Nate folded his arms, turning away from us as he muttered, “This is fucking bullshit.”

“We need to settle this,” I said. “No more sabotage, no more fucking stalking. Man to man.”

“We don’t need to settle shit,” Alex said. “Fuck off.”

Jason laughed, causing Alex’s head to snap toward him. “Figures. You’re such a tough guy, Alex. Harassing women when they’re alone, but you start cowering the second you see someone your own size.”

Nate looked like he wanted to leave, but Alex’s anger was getting the better of him. He lurched out of his chair, jostling the table and splashing his beer across the wood. Jason grinned as Alex got in his face.

“You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve to talk to me like that,” he said, all tightly knotted rage while Jason looked like he was about to laugh again. “You want to fight me yourself, pussy?”

“Hey, take it outside!” the bartender suddenly shouted. Alex and Nate exchanged a look, while I walked over to the exit near the restrooms, shoving open the door to the back alley.

“Who’s the pussy now?” Jason said, when Alex didn’t immediately follow him out the door. But his taunting did the trick.

Nate shoved me hard the moment he stepped into the alley, charging toward me with his fists clenched. The alley was long and narrow, lined on one side with overflowing dumpsters. Nate slammed me against them, his hand clenched in my shirt as he pulled back his fist.

He froze when he felt my knife press against his throat.

“I would move very slowly if I were you,” I said. He gulped and his throat bobbed, the blade digging into his skin. “My hands get really damn twitchy and I’d just hate to accidentally slice your jugular.”

Nate was so distracted by trying to figure out how to respond to a knife at his throat that he didn’t notice me swing back my arm until it was too late. My fist slammed into the side of his head, his eyes rolled and he stiffened, then he dropped to the ground with a heavy thump.

The second he hit the asphalt, I was on top of him. Blood spattered as my next punch crushed his nose, and I kept striking despite how limp he was. His lip split; his eyebrow did too. He didn’t make a sound other than to grunt, his breath barely wheezing out of him. The world closed in around me, and the sole thought that remained in my mind was how much he could have taken from me.

He could have killed Lucas. He’d tried. He hadn’t fucking cared.

He had helped hurt Jessica; he’d threatened her. He’d been ready and willing to use her like a pawn in their sick, twisted vendetta against us.

The thought of losing them…either of them…fuck, it would kill me. Life was worth living because I had my family, because we had each other. Losing any of them would shatter my world into pieces.

The roaring in my ears finally stopped. My knuckles ached. I was breathing heavily. Nate’s head lolled against the pavement, only the whites of his eyes visible. Rising to my feet, I spat on his face before I took a look at my hand. My knuckles had split, possibly from striking his teeth.

“Fucking bastard,” I said and kicked him in the side. I hoped I’d broken his fucking ribs.

When I turned, Alex appeared stunned. His eyes were wide as he watched Nate twitching on the ground. It had happened so fast; a matter of seconds. Alex looked like he might be sick.

“Where ya’ going, buddy?” Jason said, blocking the door when Alex turned as if to go back inside. As if we’d let him run away from this.

“Out of my fucking way —” Alex shut up abruptly when Jason brought out the gun. We had all trained with it; when Vincent decided we needed a firearm, we hadn’t taken that decision lightly. Bringing it with us tonight wasn’t a decision I’d taken lightly either.

But it was necessary.

“Get the fuck up, Nate!” Alex snapped. His friend groaned, likely unable to get his eyes to focus long enough to move.

“You’re not going anywhere, Alex,” I said, testing the edge of my blade with the pad of my thumb. It needed to be sharpened again soon, but it would have to do. “You’re going to take your beating, and you’re going to stay the fuck away from us. No parties, no races, nothing.”

“You’ve lost your damn minds,” he said. He was trying to back away, but he had nowhere to go. Lucas blocked his path out of the alley; Jason blocked the door back inside. Alex’s eyes were darting around like a trapped animal.

“When someone I love gets hurt, it does make me a little crazy,” I said, flipping the knife in my fingers. Alex didn’t know what to fear more: me with the knife, Jason with the gun, or Lucas cracking his knuckles behind him.

“You won’t fucking get away with this,” he said. “All this just to defend your little whore? She’s just a used up, worthless piece of flesh that y’all pass around!”

Alex didn’t understand when he needed to quit.

He stumbled when I rushed him, fear of the knife making him clumsy. Pinned to the wall with my blade pressed dangerously hard against his throat, he actually whimpered.

Fucking pathetic.

All it would take was one little movement — a slice, a jab. His throat would be sliced open and there would be no saving him. He knew it too; he was breathing fast, swearing under his breath.

“What’s wrong, man?” I said. “Are you scared of me?”

From the way his eyes widened, I must have looked unhinged. He squirmed and the blade nicked him, a trickle of blood running down his neck.

“Come on, Reed,” he whined, his tone of voice so damn annoying I rolled my eyes. “It wasn’t…that serious…”

“Is that supposed to make me fucking feel better?” I hissed. “You hurt our girl, McAllister. You put your hands on her.” I swiped up the blood that had trickled down his neck with the pad of my thumb and smeared it over his mouth as he sputtered in horror. “If you fuck with one of us, you fuck with all of us. So here the rest of us are. Not so brave now, huh?”

“Such a fucking coward,” Jason said with a sigh, as if it disappointed him.

“I really don’t like hurting people, Alex,” I said. Moving the knife aside, I pulled him away from the wall and shoved him to the ground. He stumbled, falling to his knees and catching himself on his hands. He scrambled to face me, but his eyes kept darting to the others, uncertain of where the first strike would come from.

As I flipped the knife open and closed, the subtle sound of scraping metal made him flinch. I repeated, “I don’t like hurting people. But he does.”

I nodded toward Lucas as he smiled, slowly cracking his knuckles. He didn’t need to say a word.

“Shit, look, I won’t fuck with her anymore,” Alex babbled, putting up his hands as if that would placate us.

Nate dragged himself to his feet just then, and for a moment, Alex dared to look hopeful. But Nate stumbled right past him, past Jason and Lucas. His face was smeared with blood, he was swaying on his feet as he mumbled to himself. None of us bothered to stop him, although Lucas turned to watch him go.

Alex seemed to finally realize he was fucked, his voice taking on a higher, panicked pitch.

“I won’t fuck with any of you again,” he said. He was still on his knees as we closed in around him. “It’s…Come on, man. We were just messing around —”

Jason pistol-whipped him, knocking him to the ground so hard that his skull bounced when it hit the pavement. He curled up into a ball as Jason kicked him, yelling when a hard kick caught him in the ribs. He wrapped his arms around his head, but Lucas grabbed his wrists and forcibly splayed him out on the ground.

“It really shouldn’t have come to this, Alex,” I said. His grunts of pain and desperate, gasping breaths were music to my ears. “But you just couldn’t leave us alone. That’s all we wanted: to be left the fuck alone.”

“Which fucking hand did you grab her with?” Jason snarled, bending over him as Lucas held him down. Alex just shook his head, sucking in a wheezing breath.

“He’s right-handed,” Lucas said simply. He jerked Alex’s right arm away from his body, pinning it against the concrete, and Alex screamed.

“Fuck, you people are fucking psychopaths!” he shrieked. His tone only grew more frantic when Jason lifted his foot. “Stop! Fucking stop, shit — don’t —”

His fingers audibly cracked when Jason slammed his foot down. He screamed, his legs thrashing, and I got on top of him to help Lucas keep him still.

When Jason stepped back, it gave Lucas his opportunity. He looked at me first — just a glance. I barely had to nod to set him off. His fists landed with painfully heavy thuds, and he was laughing softly at each strike. He’d been waiting too damn long for this. Fucking years of anger and restraint were unleashed, and he kept striking with single-minded focus.

“That’s enough,” I said and laid my hand against his shoulder. His arm stopped in midair, knuckles bloody. Alex looked like he was about to pass out.

“Wish you were dead yet?” I said, slapping his face a few times to get him to look at me. His eyes rolled, his nose bled.

“Fuck…fuck you…” He gasped in pain, but there wasn’t much sense in him. “Should’ve…fucked her when I had the chance…”

I frowned. “Would you care to repeat that?”

“I should have fucked that little bitch when I had the chance!” he yelled.

My fingers twitched. “Turn him over.”

It took all three of us to get him onto his stomach. Slicing through his shirt, I ripped it out of the way and steadied my hand. He screamed as the blade dug into his skin. I wanted it to scar and I didn’t care how deeply I had to cut to do it. Lucas kept his knee pressed hard against Alex’s shoulder, one hand in a death grip on the man’s hair.

“Does that hurt?” he said, wickedly taunting as Alex struggled. His blood was staining my hands, making them slippery, but I kept carving no matter how messy it got. “Why don’t you scream louder? Maybe it’ll make us stop.”

The satisfaction I felt as my knife ripped through Alex’s flesh was almost orgasmic. A smile was fixed on my mouth. I laughed when he screamed and cried out, “You’re fucking killing me, stop! Stop…fuck…please!”

“This won’t kill you,” I said calmly. “I wouldn’t bother to kill you anyway, even though you’re a fucking waste of flesh. Death is far from the worst thing that can happen to a person, Alex. You could have your dick cut off and shoved down your throat, for example. It wouldn’t kill you, but you’d probably wish you were dead.”

“I like that idea,” Lucas said, and Alex wailed brokenly, bucking uselessly against our holds on him.

“Stop, stop, stop — I swear I won’t ever — shit!”

“This knife is getting dull,” I said, scoffing as the blade caught on his skin and sliced at an odd angle. “Shame about that. I’ll just press a little harder.”

We were limited on time; frankly, I was surprised the cops hadn’t shown up yet. So I rushed through the last few cuts, eliciting more screams and more desperate begging. But the end result was a clear warning, deep enough to scar and ugly enough to be obvious.

I ABUSE WOMEN was carved deeply into his back. I pressed my bloody hand against his face, crushing him down on the asphalt as I said, “This is your only warning, understand? If I see you around again, I’ll fucking skin you. I don’t care where it is, Alex. Don’t let me fucking see your face again.”

We left him curled like a bug on the ground.