Not a Hero

Beast

"We need you in room seventeen. Some drunk asshole didn't get the memo we're closed," A deep male voice outside of the room says.

I continue to lie on my back across the bed in the dark room. One hand is across my chest and the other tucked under a pillow.

The benefactor was right. I left entirely too many witnesses that night. Too many people that can be bought or threatened to reveal Summer and Gabe. I failed them.

"You are a disgrace. You don't deserve them,"Mother reprimands.

It's time I cleaned up the mess I made. I needed to retrace my steps that night to everyone that saw us together. My first stop, of course, was Ace's night club.

Ace's prides itself on being selective and secure, yet I easily slipped in the back door and found a free room to lay my trap. I once again cut the cameras inside the building.

"Don't worry. You go on home. I'll get this guy out," The man I'm here for says.

The door opens slowly, but I remain in my place. The padded sound of footsteps make their way over to me.

"Hey man, you got to get up," The bouncer from that night five years ago, Curtis, says. He smacks my foot, trying to get me to wake up. I remain in my current state, not moving.

"Fuck, I don't feel like this shit right now," he grumbles before coming to where my head is lying on the other end of the bed. "Big guy, you have to—"

His words are cut off when I spring up from the bed. I grab his neck and bring him down to me. He puts up a small fight, but I use the chloroform I placed on the pillow that covers his face to knock him out.

The moment he stops fighting, I push him to the floor and get up from my spot. Going over to the door, I shut and lock it.

Sunday nights are the only nights Ace's closes at 2am. The cleaning crew isn't due until 9 in the morning.

Glancing down at my watch, I note that I have approximately six hours to get all the information I need from Curtis.

I get moving to prepare the room. Pulling my duffle from under the bed, I grab the plastic tarp from the bag and spread it out on the bed. Once I have the surface covered, I hoist Curtis on my shoulder and drop him on top.

Then, I use the duct tape in my bag to secure his arms and legs to the four posts on each end of the bed.

Making my job even easier, I cut his clothes off leaving him in nothing but his boxers.

"The good book says, we must defend the weak and the fatherless. You must protect them."

"Yes mother,"I reply, before waking Curtis with the smelling salts.

He comes awake abruptly. He attempts to move his arms, but immediately realizes something is wrong. He turns his head, looking up from his position to see the tape securing his arms in place.

"What the fuck?" he mutters, tugging against his restraints.

"Five years ago, I came in here with a girl."

"Fuck you, man," he shouts so hard that spittle flies from his mouth.

Letting out a sigh, my shoulders drop. I was hoping this would go by faster. Bending down, I pull the sledgehammer out of my duffle. Raising the tool over my head I bring it down onto Curtis's kneecaps. The sickening crunch of bone precedes his scream. The acidic smell of piss fills the room before his gray boxer briefs take on a darker color in the front.

I allow him a few minutes to gain control of himself. His cries turn from screams to loud whimpers.

"Now, five years ago—"

"Mother fucker," Curtis shouts cutting me off. "I don't remember shit five years ago." He starts to cry again; snot and tears mix on his face.

I start again. "Five years ago," his sobs get louder, nearly drowning out my words. "I came in here with a girl you knew named Summer."

I watch as realization dawns and his eyes widen briefly. The cries immediately die down. His body slumps into the mattress as he shakes his head and wets his lips.

"I didn't tell him anything. I swear, man. I didn't say anything."

"He's lying,"Mother snarls. "He who utters lies is treacherous."

"He isn't,"Priest says in my head. "Look at the way he's looking directly at you. And how his body sags in relief. He didn't tell."

Placing my sledgehammer down at my feet and leaning it against the side of the bed, I give Curtis my full attention back.

"Tell me about the encounter."

Curtis takes a deep breath, seeming to calm down even though his body shakes. "A few months ago, I got off work. It was late, around four in the morning. As soon as I got in my car a gun was pressed to the back of my head.

"The guy started asking me about that night. At first, I had no idea what he was talking about, until he mentioned it being the night that City Council guy went missing. He then showed me a picture of you. He asked if I remembered you and if you were here with anyone."

"And what did you say?

"I told him that I didn't remember you. I promise."

I believe he didn't rat me out, but now I want to know why. He had a gun pointed to the back of his head, yet he didn't reveal anything.

"Why did you lie to him?"

His teeth chatter, showing signs his body is going into shock due to the shattered knee.

"Summer," he stutters out.

I dig my short nails into the palm of my hand. I don't like the way he says her name with familiarity.

"You knew she was a whore when you met her. Do not act appalled now."

I ignore mother's taunts in my head.

Before I can ask any other questions, Curtis continues speaking.

"Look, I don't know you and don't give a shit about you. But you were with her, and I've known Summer since we were in high school. She had some issues, but she's good people. I didn't know this guy or what he wanted, but I wasn't about to get Summer involved."

I dip my chin to my chest briefly. His kind words about Summer eases the fire in me a little.

"What did he look like?"

"I don't know. I never got a look at him. But he had an accent, I don't know where it's from."

Before he can finish his statement, I'm shaking my head. "I need more than that."

"I don't have anything else," he whines as new tears fall down the side of his face. I once again give him time to get himself together. Finally, his brows dip as if he's thinking of something.

"The tattoos," he says to himself before turning to me. "When he showed me your picture, I got a view of the tattoos on his forearm. They were tally marks, and from the looks of them there were hundreds of them."

It sounds like the benefactor was the one that asked him questions. Which means, at some point he was actively looking for me. It proves my point that whatever issue he has is with me. But why?

"Did he say anything else to you?"

"No, I swear. After I told him I knew nothing he climbed out of the car."

Standing up straight, I roll my neck back and forth.

"I told you everything," Curtis pleads. "Let me go. Take me to a hospital, I swear I won't say anything to anyone."

I believed him. He didn't rat me out to the benefactor when he had a gun pressed to the back of his head.

"For I have not found thy works perfect before God. You have a job to do,"Mother demands inside my head. "You cannot trust man. Finish the job."

Although he didn't mention Summer to the benefactor, who is to say what he will admit if he's pressured. I have to protect them.

I pick up the sledgehammer off the floor and raise it over my head.

"Please man." Curtis pleads. "I won't say anything, I swear. Don't do this."

For a second, his plea crossed my mind. They cut through the red haze crowding my thoughts. Could I allow him to survive? Will he keep our secret?

"For nothing is hidden that will not become evident. Kill them all."

"Yes, Mother," I answer out loud.

Without a second thought, I bring the sledgehammer down on Curtis' skull cutting off his cries for help. However, the pull of the red haze has still not let me go. Mother continues to whisper in my head.

"Finish the job."

I drop the sledgehammer to the floor. Reaching in my bag, I pull out a saw. I have more work to do.

Summer

I come awake abruptly. It takes my eyes a moment to adjust to the low light and to remember where I am. I fell asleep on the couch in the living room.

After putting Gabe to sleep, I remember sitting on the couch. My eyes drifted to the clock on the wall numerous times while I watched TV.

I won't say I was waiting up for Gabriel, more like I was just checking to make sure he made it in safely. I texted him before putting Gabe to sleep to see what time he would get back but he never replied.

I kick the covers off my legs and place my feet on the floor. I stand to head into the kitchen.

"Ahh," I scream when my gaze lands on Gabriel standing near the entrance from the kitchen to the living room.

Placing my hand over my heart, I say, "Fuck, Gabriel. You scared the shit out of me."

I head in his direction, stopping in front of him.

"I'm going to have to get you bells for your shoes." I chuckle, but he doesn't respond.

It's then that I start to pay attention to him. He's staring at me with cold eyes. His body seems so tight he would shatter if I thumped him. His hands are down at his side in tight fists. His breathing is labored, his nostrils flaring with each inhale he takes.

"Are you alright?"

"You will be delivered from the forbidden woman, from the adulteress with her smooth words," he says in a slightly higher pitch voice almost as if he's someone else.

Before I could ask him again if he's okay, he speaks letting me know exactly where his head is.

"Yes, mother."

Cold dread runs through my body. Gabriel told me that when he goes to that dark place to kill, he has to let his mother in his head. She's so deep in it, he's speaking in her voice.

"Gabriel—" my words are cut off when his hand wraps around my throat so tightly I feel as if he could crush it.

I fight for my next breath, but his grip is like a snake, every time I try to take a deep breath he squeezes tighter.

"Gabriel…. please…" I choke out.

Yet his eyes remain cold and unfeeling. He's so far in that dark place he isn't even blinking.

Tears spring to my eyes. This is the part about that night I tried to forget. For as special as it was, it was also terrifying. Gabriel is a killer no matter how kind he was to me. This is who he is.

I grab his hand when the spots start to appear in my sight. I scratch at his wrist trying to dig my nails into his flesh hoping to snap him out of it. However, it seems as if I'm barely touching him even though blood is pooling on his skin. He doesn't even flinch at the pain.

It's then I remember that pain isn't going to get that bitch out of his head. He's used to pain. I have to use the only weapon that I have.

"August… Gabriel… Jones." It takes everything I have to get that name out. But the moment it slips out of my mouth, his hand loosen slightly around my throat.

His brows pinch and his jaw tenses. However, that cold look is still in his eyes. I continue giving him all the details he missed.

"Eight….pounds, one…. ounce," his hand loosens even more. "Born July 20th at 4:11pm. He loves superheroes, cookies, and playing outside. And if you hear him laugh it will melt your heart."

Gabriel releases me and takes a step back. I drop to my knees coughing and trying to fight off the urge to pass out. When I finally start to feel somewhat normal, I look up to find those green eyes staring down at me. This time there is so much emotion staring back at me. Gone is the cold vacant look from before.

He now resembles a terrified animal that's caught in a cage. I climb to my feet but stumble a little. My head swims. I'm assuming the lack of oxygen has me thrown off. Steadying myself against the wall, I place a hand against my tender neck and wince. It burns as if it should be bleeding. Yet when I look at my hand there is no blood.

"Gabriel—"

"Don't," he cuts me off. He turns from me, glancing at the wall to his left.

I take a step in his direction.

Gabriel takes a step back, not even looking at me.

"I'm okay," my voice sounds so raspy and speaking feels as if razor blades are wrapped around my words as they come up my throat.

He looks at me with the most pained and defeated look on his face. Common sense would tell me to be scared. The man nearly choked me out, but my heart goes out to him. Maybe those drugs fucked me up. But I just can't blame him for this. So many people failed Gabriel.

"We can—"

"I have to go." He once again cuts me off.

"Gabriel," I call out to him as he storms out of the living room and through the kitchen.

I try to catch up to him, but the lack of oxygen and the fact his legs are much longer than mine has me coming up short. By the time I make it to the back door, he has disappeared into the dark of my backyard.

This is a good thing, I tell myself. He needs time to get himself together. However, I just can't help but think of him being alone out there.