Page 41 of Unforgivable Ties

Normally, for someone like David, I would have stopped my lesson there. But he had made the horrible mistake of hurting Stephanie. All reason and self control I had was out the window.

The cigarette smoke swirled around the room, propelled by a tabletop oscillating fan. I unplugged the fan from the wall socket and yanked the cord out of the fan itself, leaving me with a string of electrical wire in my hand.

My eyes locked with David’s. The fear in them was palpable, but I didn’t care. I felt no sympathy for the man who had hurt Stephanie.

“You wouldn’t,” he gasped, propelling himself backward. His hand slipped, and he toppled on to the tile.

“Shouldn’t’ve touched her,” I retorted, stalking over to him.

“Why are you doing this for some chick?” he asked. He still sounded terrified, but there was an undercurrent of rage with the words. “Is her pussy that good—”

I didn’t let him finish. The wire was in my fist, and with a swift, ruthless movement, I whipped it across his face. His words were cut short as a fresh wave of pain sliced through him; blood splattered on the white tile, mingling with the ash from the spent cigarette.

My rage fueled brighter at him mentioning her cunt. That was for me to think about and me alone. He had no right, no claim to her. And he sure as hell didn’t have the right to hurt her.

“We’re done here, David.”

I took the electrical cord and wrapped it around his neck, pulling tight enough to see his eyes bulge. His hands clawed at the cord, trying to loosen my grip, but it was futile. His skin turned a sickly shade of purple, and the pleading in his eyes faded, replaced by a vacant glossiness.

It was a look I had seen many times before. David wasn’t the first person I had done this to, nor would he be the last. With one last tug, I watched as the light left David’s eyes. His struggling body grew limp in my grasp, his futile attempts at loosening the cord halting. I released my grip on the cord and his lifeless body fell to the side.

“Clean this up,” I said to the two grunts.

I slammed the door as I walked out of the room. Now that he was taken care of, I wanted to see Stephanie. I walked down the brightly lit hallway until I reached the room the men used as their breakroom. From outside the door, I could hear Stephanie and Dino chatting about the latest movie that had been released on Netflix.

When I opened the door, they stopped their conversation to look at me. Stephanie’s face filled with emotion—relief, gratitude, and an undercurrent of an emotion I couldn’t place.

The Dino’s made themselves sparse, saying goodbye before exiting the room.

“Hey,” she near whispered. “Thanks for saving me.”

She was sitting on top of a table. I walked up to her and softened my hardened gaze as I took in the sight of her. Her clothes were messy and her face had a bruised side. Yet she still managed to look beautiful.

“Maybe I’ve been a bad influence on you,” I said, placing my hand on top of her head. “You’ve only been working for the mafia a few weeks and you think you can win a fight?”

She giggled at my joke, and the soft, melodic sound of it cut through the tension that had been lingering in the room.

“I’ll get them next time, I swear!” she said, pouting in a way that was almost childlike. Her lip split open again at the movement, and blood trickled out. “Oh, ouch!”

“No next time,” I said sternly, dabbing at her lip with my handkerchief.

“Yeah...I don’t think I’m cut out for fighting.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she wrapped her arms around me as she buried her face in my chest. My heartbeat did an odd skip in my chest. I wasn’t used to this type of affection, this closeness from another human being.

I thought I would be repulsed. But when it was Stephanie hugging me, I found a warmth blooming in my chest. It was a pleasant sensation, a feeling so foreign it almost frightened me.

In a move uncharacteristic of me, I wrapped my arms around her. Her body was trembling slightly, the fragile form of her convulsing with quiet sobs.

“I’m sorry I left you alone,” I said. “Those types of things never happen here. I thought you would have more fun watching everyone than being stuck with me.”

“No, you don’t understand,” she whispered into the fabric of my shirt, her voice muffled. “I’d rather be with you.”

There was a heavy silence that followed those words. I could feel my heart pounding against my rib cage. Her confession hung in the air between us like a tangible force, so weighty I could almost taste it. A part of me wanted to pull away, to retreat back into my shell where emotions didn’t have the space to wreak havoc.

“What’d you do to him?” she asked, changing the subject.

“How do you know I did something to him?” I deflected her question. I wanted to hide just how much of a monster I really was.

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