Page 82 of Bad for You

“Are you deaf? I said—”

“I heard you.” I cut him off because I don’t want to give this asshole any more airtime.

He waits for the punchline, but there is none. What there is, however, is a punch…of a different kind.

With Lewis still in my arms, I don’t wait for a theatrical moment because there is none. I step forward, and without delay, I headbutt the asshole right between the eyes. I catch him unawares, and he wavers on his feet, which is my chance to toss Lewis onto the floor and dive on top of this fucker and commence beating the living hell out of him.

I connect with every part of his face, taking great satisfaction in hearing his nose crack and the back of his head slam into the floor each time I punch him in the fucking face.

But it’s still not enough.

Wrapping my hands around his throat, I begin choking him. I squeeze so hard, I feel his neck spasming as he struggles for air. He soon realizes this is a fight for his life. He slaps at my hands, attempting to buck me off, but I have a firm grip and am pinning him down with my body weight.

He’s not going anywhere.

“You’re killing him!” Bria screams, and I fucking love the surge of adrenaline that courses through me.

“That’s kinda the point,” I flippantly reply.

It’s intoxicating, and it only has me squeezing harder.

I watch him closely, intrigued as his face turns beet red and his eyes appear glass-like as they almost pop from his head. Humans are a disgusting breed. I can honestly say that I’ve not met any, bar one, who I like.

My body begins to vibrate, and I suddenly feel myself getting hard. In fact, the more he gasps for breath, the harder I get. I do something that proves the line of humanity was crossed long ago when I release my hold around his neck.

He gasps for air, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. I give him a false sense of security, only to rip it away as I make good on my promise and reach for a rusted nail and ram it into his eyeball.

His toothpick was lost in the scuffle, so this is a good substitute.

His guttural screams are a sign of the pain he’s in, and I take great pleasure in knowing I’m the one who is his torturer. It comes naturally to me; a natural-born killer. I suppose I didn’t realize how much Gianna’s teaching has become ingrained into who I am. Because I feel absolutely nothing as I wrap my hands around his neck one final time and never let go until he takes his last breath.

I never break eye contact with him because I wish for my face to be the last thing he sees as he leaves this earth.

With one final squeeze, I let go and peer down at my hands. I turn them over and now see them in a new light, for they have killed, and I fear it won’t be the last time I have blood on them.

I know this is only the beginning of things to come.

Coming to a stand, I see Bria feet away, a hand covering her mouth. “What have you done?”

I don’t have time for her melodramatics and pick up Lewis, who is still out for the count. I can’t take him to Gianna’s. I also don’t want to involve Aldo in my mess.

“You’ve started a war,” Bria says, shaking her head.

“It started a long time ago,” I correct. “And I’m here to end it. Your secret is safe with me, Bria. But a word of warning, your father knows someone is stealing from him. It’s only a matter of time. Consider our debt settled.”

And with that, I leave behind the chaos I created with nothing but a smile.

“You cannot enter without being searched. So please leave all personal belongings behind. Empty your pockets and take off your shoes.”

I untie the laces of my scuffed Converse on autopilot because these were not the words I expected to hear when meeting my mother for the first time. But I suppose visiting her at Orchard Parks State Hospital wasn’t on the agenda either.

I don’t know how to feel. All of this is so surreal. I’ve been waiting for this moment for what feels like my entire life, andnow that it’s finally here, I wonder if I should come back another day. I’m not ready. But I doubt I ever will be.

When Gianna gave me this address, I thought I would find closure in some ways, but all I have are more questions. Why is my mother in here? And for how long? But the most important question is why?

“It’s okay, sweetie,” says the nurse in white. She must be able to read my confliction at being here. “She’s having a good day today. She’s just had her meds, so she might be a little sleepy, but I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you.”

I highly doubt that.

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