I watch him twist his somber expression into one that looks more familiar—irritated, entitled, a poor excuse for a human being.
Bubba always had a problem with touching things that weren’t his. For going against the grain of personal space and getting what he wanted when he believed he deserved it. I was able to ward that off, keep my brother and sister safe and away from his demented hands.
Still, it came with a hefty price tag and my whole life shifting into a black abyss that I’ve never found my way out of.
However, the tables have turned—in my favor. I’m brawn and irritable while he’s a twelve-pack of beer and has snorted half his brain cells out of his damn head over the years.
“What do you want?” Bubba snaps as though I’m wasting his time here. He gives one more tug to his zip-tied hands, giving his luck another go. “You wanna kick my ass? Beat up an old man over some shit that happened forever ago?”
“Beat you up?” I repeat. “Nah, I’ll give you a chance to help yourself out. To be fair and all.”
Untwisting a gallon of water that I have sitting next to my brown duffle bag, I walk around him, pouring the liquid out and making a circle in the dirt.
“You gonna do some type of ritual and shit?” Bubba spits out, following me with his eyes. “You religious or something?”
“Or something.”
Tossing the plastic jug, I peer up to the rope that’s hanging from the abandoned billboard I used to sit up on. It overlooks the park of badly needed renovation trailers and the dense woods surrounding it. The place that Scarlett and I would hide and go “camping” for a few days because the man in front of me wouldn’t stop coming over to throw me off and attempt to rape her.
The same spot I would watch Bubba traipse around the park—more like terrorizing it—and I’d wished that I was a sniper that could take him out from up there.
I’ll somewhat get my wish.
“Get it over with then,” Bubba seizes out. “I got shit to do.”
Taking another hit off my nicotine, I glance over the overgrown bushes and trash scattered around from kids, not giving a fuck about littering. They have more important things to worry about, especially if Bubba is stomping the streets again.
“You fucking with my brother the other night?” The words off my lips are rancid at best. They stir up what I’ve done, what I didn’t do, how everything might have been prevented if I would’ve just killed Bubba years ago.
“Me?” he drones. “Not my style.”
“No, you just rape.”
“It ain’t rape if they ask for it. If they want that blow. If they glance at my cock and nod their heads. If they look at me with longing in their eyes and—” The back of my hand slams into the side of Bubba’s face, sending him cowering in my wake.
Everything he just fucking said is bullshit.
All of it.
I wasn’t the only one he touched. He’s the devil in the night that stalked his prey and did it with zero fucks given. And the thing was, he never stopped.
“You’re a delusional fucker, you know that?” I seethe through my teeth. “You should’ve stuck around. I would’ve knocked some reality into you.”
Bubba spits, for his sake, not in my direction. “I knew you were hunting me down. Wasn’t going to wait for you and that redheaded prick to take me out.”
Kyson.
While I was a react first, ask questions can come second kinda guy, I’m taking a page from my best friend’s book and trying here.
Not only do my fists want to plummet into his face, but I’m ready to just get what I need done and be over this shit.
“And here we are.” Reaching for the dangling rope, it already has a hangman’s noose made at the end. Bubba sees it and narrows his eyes at me.
“You’re gonna hang me?”
I furrow my own. “Of course not. This is to wrap around your body.”
“I’m already tied.” Bubba watches me as I toss it over his wide frame and yank on it to tighten. “Too tight.”
“Calm down. I need to show you where I used to imagine offing your ass when I was a kid.”
“I don’t want to see your shit. Unless...your sister is in sight.”
His comment is to get a reaction out of me. However, even though I’ve already hit him, I’d like to see something else.
Reaching for my phone, I pull up my gallery, locating a screenshot of my sister that I saved. It was a selfie from years ago, something I found while searching for her to make sure she was doing fine. The only picture I have of her.
Turning the screen so he can see it, I let him bury himself even deeper when he examines the only thing I have that makes me warm inside. His dark eyes ping pong around her, interested and probably growing hard.
“Why are you showing me this?” he finally asks. “You offering her to me or something for information?”
“Do you got any?”
“Maybe.”
“That’s too bad,” I reply. “Cause I’m not really here for that.”
“Then what do you want?”
Tucking my phone back into my back pocket, I stare down at him, feeling a familiar coldness sweep through my veins. It keeps everything else out, emotions, feelings, memories, things that would make me go insane.
Everything.
Bubba scoffs loudly and shakes his head. “You might be a big man now, Bishop, but you’re still the same weak little bastard that I fucked up the ass. You can’t shove that out of your head, me inside you. My hard cock in that tight asshole.” He hums deeply, getting my hands to clench hard into fists. “Your sister...she was next. I wanted her more than anyone. But…I had to settle with the next best thing. Your little girlfriend, Camilla—” One
