Brutal (22 page)

“I
am
that man,” he says. “You think some fucking hired hand is going to walk in here and take from me? I’ve got years invested, baby, years. No one fucking takes from me, Venessa. You think about that next time you shake your ass for that motherfucker. We’ll see who’s the last man standing.”

“Whoa, okay kids, that’s enough,” Max says, stepping in between us. “Tony, cool off.”

“I’m going to say this once to both of you,” I say, looking back and forth. “Don’t fuck with me. That hired hand is mine. You start interfering in my fucking life, my fucking business, I’ll slit your throat while you sip that pussy wine in that god damned booth you love so much. I belong to no one unless I fucking choose it. You wanna talk shit? Test me Tony.” I step up to his beautiful face. “Test me and see what I’m made of when someone takes from
me.
”

“Fuck Venessa take a step back,” pleads Max, making no move to touch me.

I’m breathing like a dragon and ready to fight, and he knows it. Tony wants me to lose it, the bastard. He’s getting off on this.

“The same applies to you too, Max,” I say, trying to calm down.

“No one is going to slit anyone’s throat, or do whatever Tony just said. Damn, man, no wonder you’re single,” says Max.

“Kharma, Kharma, Kharma,” purrs Tony, and I freeze in place. He has never once called me that, and for some reason it freaks me out. I also get the feeling he’s about to tell me something he knows that I’m wishing he didn’t.  “When I do make you mine it will be worth the fight and the wait. Would you like to know why?”

“No,” I snarl. “I really fucking wouldn’t. Now move, I have to get ready.” I'm making an attempt to walk to the door as his words stop me cold.

“Did you really think we didn’t know?
Kharma
?” He confirms my biggest fear. They know. “All these years, we’ve watched you, respected you, and protected you. We do our best to keep everyone away from you. It’s no secret who your father was; it’s no secret what happened to you. What you think you’re doing when no one is watching? I was always fucking watching, baby. Keeping your secrets like you kept ours.  I’ve watched you grow from a lost little girl into a fucking killer, and it’s been amazing to see. You can run, you can fight, but when it’s over; I will be the one who breaks you down. You think I fear death, baby? I find solace in the fact that I know when it’s my time to die, it will be by your hand. I’ve known since the day I met you that you’d be the one, and I’m prepared for that. Are you? ”

With that, he exits the room with his usual grace, leaving me standing there with my mouth open and my heart racing. When I hear him say to Rogan, in a far too cheerful voice, “Thanks for taking care of my girl” I know without a doubt it’s going to be a long night.

F
uck! They know about her. I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am. I’m fucking pissed they actually encourage her behavior when they should be protecting her. Listening to Tony basically tell her it’s a matter of time until he fucks her has my blood pressure on ‘explode’. I understand her position, as far as our relationship. She can’t blow our cover necessarily, but what the fuck? She knows I’m here, but doesn’t know I can ‘hear’ so I’m feeling skeptical that she’s going to relay what went down in there, and not cover for Tony’s ass like she usually does. This loyalty shit is pissing me off. Break her? Fucking break her? Then the smug bastard walks by me, smiling, with a ‘thanks for taking care of my girl.’ Well, fuck you, dick. She’s my girl.

I’m seriously struggling with this whole fucked up situation when she literally explodes from the office.

She holds up her hand up to say ‘stop’ or ‘not now’, and I have no choice but to wait and hope my heart doesn’t pop.

“You look pissed,” I say.

“I
am
pissed,” she snaps.

“What happened in there?”

“What happened is those two fucks have been holding out on me for ‘my safety’,” she says with a sneer. “Now I’m supposed to watch my back, but keep my eyes open. Oh, and Tony would like the opportunity to assist me while I do.”

“And?”

“And, they’re looking for a reason to get you to bounce so Tony can do the job himself. Did I mention the part where they’ve known all about my extra-curricular activities?”

Acting the part, I pretend outrage and anger. Oh, wait, no…that’s real shit I’m feeling.

“I’m not going anywhere. So what’s next?”

“What’s next is I have to work, and I need Macy protected when she gets here,” she says. “Rafe is watching?”

“He’s on point,” I say. “We okay?”

“We’re more than okay.” She sighs, while leaning up to kiss me  “I just thought, outside of Macy, you, Rafe, and the Cap, that no one knew.”

“They obviously cover for you, so why is this an issue for you?”

“I’m pissed I didn’t hide it better is all.”

“They’ve watched your back,” I remind her. “You help their cause, too, so basically you’ve been helping each other out. You’re the only one who didn’t know it. That what’s got you pissed?”

“That’s part of it, yeah.”

“What’s the other part?”

“Tony,” she answers. “He’s pissing me off.”

“Not if you let me handle him, he won’t.”

“I’ve got Tony,” she seethes. “Give me five, and I’ll be ready to walk out.”

“Venessa,” I say as she walks away. She turns, and I notice she looks sad but keeps going.

“Five minutes,” she assures me, and disappears into the dressing room.

When she disappears, I feel all sorts of weird shit. I’m pissed big time. But I’m also really proud of her. She not only took care of shit, but she told me about it. She held nothing back. Right now, the only one holding back is me. I know how she feels about privacy, but I’m in so deep with her I can’t just stop listening in. She hasn’t been on the streets lately, which has been a huge relief. That tracker has been invaluable to me, and maybe it’s wrong of me but I have to know if she’s being honest with me, how she feels about me, us, and even that fuckbag Tony. I keep waiting for that other bomb to go off, I can almost hear it ticking. Watching her walk away from me, I know that if she self-destructs, so will I.

I
have a lot of feelings raging right now, but I needed Rogan to know I’m with him, first and foremost. This thing with Tony, whatever it is, has to stop. I don’t know what drives it, but I cannot, and will not, fuel it. Tony is not the man for me. Max’s secrecy hurt, I’m not gonna lie. What the fuck are those two thinking? They knew about me, and still held back on me? I’m not sure how I feel about that. Right now, though, I just want to finish here and have Rogan to myself. Priding myself on never needing anyone, then suddenly needing someone’s reassurance, is new for me, but there it is.

One of the perks of what I do is that there isn’t any script. I say what I want, and I do what I want. Tonight, I’m feeling angry and wanting to lash out. So I let the boys know that I need Saturday night's set up. That includes a mock fighter’s cage, more bounce staff, and different lighting. When I go hard, so to speak, I tend not to speak to the crowd. Mosh pits don’t require an MC. Well, at least, mine never have.

I start the night off with one of my faves: “Under and Over It” by Five Finger Death Punch. The instrumentals are insane, the beat is like adrenaline in my veins, and the lyrics are fucking sick. The crowd knows I tend to deviate, so when they saw the cage set up, shit got wild in a hurry. Humans love a lot of things, aggression being one of them.

 I fucking love aggression. What can I say? It’s a gift.

Finishing my first track, I head into Kill Switch Engage. I’m so fucking primed, I need to head into the pit and let off some steam. I look up to spot Rogan to let him know I’m about to join the crowd when I see a woman approach him. Trying to compose the violence in my system, I wait. When she doesn’t leave, but touches his arm,  my fists clench. He looks uncomfortable, but he isn’t pushing her away. Then I see his lips move, and I swear he asked her name. The dead girl is smiling, looking encouraged. I, on the other hand, am moving in for my kill. Not in my fucking club, not in my fucking city, not with my fucking man.

I plow through the crowd, punching and pushing, getting cheers for my efforts. Fuck you, I think to myself. None of you mean shit to me. The only person here that does is being eye fucked by some slut, and not making any effort to stop it. You kids like a show? You’re about to get one.

I come up behind the harlot, taking in Rogan’s expression. I see he’s annoyed with the dead girl, and he feels uncomfortable. No one makes him uncomfortable but me. Despite his efforts, which I will admit are weak, she doesn’t give up. That’s okay, hobag, this won’t hurt. Much…

Standing behind her, I take in the one-sided conversation briefly before I attack. She’s taller than me, but that’s not a stretch. Her outfit is horrible. She’s built well, her hair needs work, but whatever’s left of it when I’m done, she can call a stylist to fix.

“Turn around, bitch,” I snarl.

“Excuse—?” she tries.

See, the thing about me, is I may be small, but I prefer my enemy to see me before I go to work. This bitch is no exception. So the moment she turns to face me, I see that her smile that she still held was for my man, and I let loose.

One upturned palm to her chin throws her back. Points to her for not hitting the floor right away. She looks shocked and a little confused. I have no time to care as to why. I do what I do best; I charge her, giving her a firm roundhouse to the stomach. When she bends over to hold herself, I attack her kidneys then the backs of both knees. So what, I like tae-bo? It’s great for your flanks.

Now that she’s down, it’s a great time to grab a fist full of hair. Not to pull, okay? Geez, what am I, in high school?  No, I want to see the look on her face when she knows  she’s about to get fucking skull bashed by the likes of me.

Just as I’m about to introduce her to the floor a few things happened. Of course, I’m in a bit of a snit right now, so it’s difficult for me to assimilate what’s happening. I hear an ear splitting ‘No!’ from who I believe to be Macy, but I can’t see her. I hear the whore crying, I hear Rogan yell ‘Stop!’ Surely, that wasn’t meant for me? Naw, it can’t be.

The third thing that happened was someone took me to the floor. Hard. Here’s the thing about kill mode: I don’t care who the fuck I’m killing at this point, as long as it’s someone. The hobag forgotten, I turn my attention to my newest recruit. It’s a man, and he’s strong, but he’s also never fought anyone like me before. I focus my attention and my weight on his mid-section. I’ll appreciate the six pack later, but right now I need to work my way up to his throat so I can choke the life from him. I attack his unprotected middle, noticing he’s quick to lose steam. In the back of my mind, I’m grateful that Rogan is letting me do this without the whole partner thing interfering. I’ll thank him properly later, maybe with my mouth.

I don’t know how long it lasts, I just know the man below is struggling for breath and not fighting back. Which sucks, because it’s no fun when they don’t fight back. But now I know two things for certain: 1) I hear Rogan calling me back, so it’s time for me to snap out of it and 2)  I’m smiling. This felt good. I needed it.

Rogan comes to me, looks me in the eyes, lets me know I need to let go. Let go? Of what? He must sense my confusion, and I follow his eyes to look down, and I see that I’ve beat the ever loving shit out of Rafe.

Rafe? Where the fuck did he come from?

Rogan stands me up, asking me if I’m okay. I say yes, but before I can say any more, I realize we have a huge crowd that’s cheering. Max and the bouncers are there, Macy’s pissed with Ben holding her back, and Rafe is not my biggest fan.

“The fuck happened, Kharma?” Max yells.

“She beat the shit out of a cop,” yells Rafe, standing up. “That’s what happened!”

“A cop?” Max asks. “Really?”

“I didn’t know she was a cop,” I defend. “But now I do, still doesn’t matter.”

“Good. I fucking hate cops,” growls Max. “Get her outta here.”