MONSTER INSIDE ME
VOLUME IV
Faye BYRD
Edited by Christine V.
All cover images from @Lukatme1 - Deposit Photos
Special thanks to all the following women who took some part in making this story become what it is:
Ceara Therrien, Cheryl Edmonds, Fran Walsh, Ankita Kaul, Mana Liz, and last but certainly not least, Cecilia Rene
Copyright 2020 © Faye Byrd
All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without permission in writing from the author.
All trademark references mentioned in this book, including movies, movie characters or television shows, are the property of the respective copyright holders and trademark owners. No copyright infringement is intended.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
ONE - ANOTHER ME
TWO - TENSE GOODBYE
THREE - OTHER PLANS
FOUR - ALL SET
FIVE - MEET THE DOYLES
SIX - MEETING ADJOURNED
SEVEN - JUNKYARD MASACRE
EIGHT - PICK UP THE PIECES
NINE - TO HEIR IS HUMAN
TEN - THE END
ONE
ANOTHER ME
“What time did Joseph call you?” I ask Angelo as we stand out of the limelight in another abandoned building.
“It was just before two,” he replies, flinching as a Skilsaw suddenly cranks to life in the background. “When I picked up the Camaro earlier in the evening, he hinted at needing my help, and I told him anytime.”
I purse my lips to keep my anger at a fucking dead man contained. Joseph was already making his plans when I last saw him, and he gave me no clue whatsoever. It’s not Angelo’s fault, I remind myself as I tamp down the irrational urge to lash out at him.
“And it never crossed your mind to call me?” I snap, not doing a very good job of keeping it contained.
“I didn’t know what he wanted until I got there, and he assured me you were his next call and told me to hold her until I heard from you.” He shrugs. “I had no idea he was going to …” He trails off, swallowing back emotion.
I bob my head, choosing to remain silent, because it makes sense. If I couldn’t pick up on the small tells of Joseph’s last acts, how could I expect anyone else to? It’s a somber moment where we both let a little of our fucking grief show, until a monster-enticing scream breaks through the silence and snatches us back to the present.
Looking to the light, I saunter back into the action, a smirk lifting my lips. Mimi’s eyes latch on to me. “Please, Dante. I’ve told him everything I know. Make him stop. Make it stop!” She’s shouting by the time she’s done as she struggles to move away from the roaring blade that’s only been used as a scare tactic so far.
I almost don’t recognize the man wielding it. He’s crazed, with wide, maniacal eyes hidden behind dark square frames and blood-stained clothes as he works to torture this traitor into submission. I toss my head back and chuckle darkly when he nicks her leg with the spinning blade, causing blood to pour from the jagged hole.
“What are they planning?” Ivan screams, swiping the saw toward her face. “Tell me their next move!”
With Pop gone, the Outfit will need a new order of leadership, and there’s no one to choose as Underboss besides my brother—as much as we both hate it. It’s a huge feat, attempting to give the position to a man who hasn’t even made his bones, but we’re rectifying that now. The ranks will fall into line, or they’ll find themselves in a precarious fucking position.
Looking at Ivan now, though, I’m beginning to wonder why I ever thought he isn’t cut out for this life. All it took was the mention of his precious Madeline’s life being at risk and he jumped in head first, ready to do whatever he needs to secure her future. I’m proud as fuck, but I also wonder if he realizes the gravity of his acceptance. This is a life-long commitment, something he’ll be tied to long after this threat is dissolved.
The saw gets flung to the concrete and makes a loud grinding sound as the blade slices into it. But Ivan doesn’t give a fuck. He braces his hands on either side of Mimi and leans in, his face more menacing than I’ve ever seen. “What. Is. Their. God. Damn. Plan?”
She jerks her head back as far as she can to avoid the rabid spittle that’s spewing from his mouth. “I told you—”
“You haven’t told me anything!” he roars, standing up and stalking toward a small folding table. “You’ve only admitted things we already knew.” His voice is calm now, calculating, as he looks over the tools.
Selecting a Dremel, he adds the large round sanding tip and moves back toward us, flicking the switch. The small machine buzzes to life, and he wastes no time in pressing it against her forehead. She’s leery at first, probably not feeling much yet, but as he grinds in the same spot over and over, her fear and pain escalate. She starts thrashing, causing the tip to slip to various parts of her face. It isn’t strong enough to remove much skin, but the burn left behind can be pretty fucking painful.
I step forward and grip the top of her head, holding her in place. Ivan gives me an impressive evil grin and gets back to his selected torture technique. Mimi shrieks in terror and tries to move, but my hold is ironclad as my brother gives her the full spa treatment.
So far, the techniques he’s used have only been mildly painful and meant to
