Devon Monk - Hell Bent

Flashes of images: the parking lot in darkness. Trees. Underbrush rustling with animals that fell deathly still as I passed.

Flashes of sensation: gravel cutting my feet, wind on my bare chest and back, blood on my fingers, my lips.

Flashes of sounds: forest, the river, cars. Eventually, my own breathing. Too loud. And then: voices.

First too many voices. A bar, a club, laughter, anger, lust. The rhythmic pound of music. Heat I could consume. Life I wanted and could have. If I stepped over the threshold.

Then only one life, sweet and burning in front of me: Dessa.

“Shame,” she said through my pain, around the finger-painted slide of colors and agony that made up the world. “You can’t go in there. You’re safe. Safe with me.”

The world pushed past me. Life roaring by like a thundering wave. Maybe she was still there. I didn’t know.

A scream of colors slashed me to the bone. Then everything went black.

“Don’t move.”

Was that Dessa? It sounded like her. I could smell her perfume, a burst of vanilla and sweet spices. Could feel her strong, beating heart. A singular, pure note.

“You’re going to be okay,” she said.

Felt the soft release of her hand lifted from my hip. The hushed chirp of a cell phone dialing. Footsteps retreated. And then the engine of a car rolled to life.

I was alone. Alone with my pain.

“Hey, Shame.”

Darkness parted. Light poured over me. Terric’s voice. Terric’s light.

I wanted to tell him I thought I might be really screwed up this time. That he should get far, far away from me. I wanted to tell him there was a reason for the state I was in. That someone, someone whose name I could not remember, had done something to me. But my thoughts dissolved as I tried to stack them into order and form.

This was not good.

Fear slipped between each breath I struggled to take. Fear that if I was losing my mind, the monster in me would devour every living thing. Even him.

“I got you now,” Terric’s words said, falling like soft snow around me. “You’re going to be all right.”

His hands touched me—one on my arm, one on my chest. I shuddered as that light pushed away the darkness and pain, holding the worst of it away.

“Just breathe,” he said. “I’ve got you.”

So I closed my eyes, or I hoped I did. And breathed.

Maybe we moved, maybe we stood there. Maybe this was all a dream. Terric’s words drifted around me, soothing, cooling. In them was comfort and peace.

There was no fighting it. I didn’t want to.

I breathed his words. His light wrapped me in gentle arms. And all the world disappeared.

I gasped, opened my eyes. Tried to push up onto my feet.

A hand appeared out of nowhere and pressed against my chest so hard my shoulder blades sank into the cushions at my back.

Cushions?

“Stay down,” Terric said.

“Where the hell?” I blinked, swallowed. Whatever drugs Eli had used on me left the taste of vomit in my mouth. I felt like I’d been run through a meat tenderizer. Twice.

“You’re at my house,” Terric said. “In my living room. It’s the middle of the night—”

“Two o’clock in the morning,” another man’s voice said.

“—and,” Terric continued, “you’ve been hurt. Do you understand me, Shame?”

I blinked again. The room slipped in and out of focus. Finally cleared.

Terric sat next to me in a padded chair. His hand gripped my upper arm, applying a slight pressure so I remained seated.

He wore a gray tank top and dark blue pajama bottoms. Barefoot, hair a little messy like he’d just gotten out of bed.

Middle of the night. Of course he’d been in bed. I was all about the smart right now, wasn’t I?

I tried my brain out on the rest of the room. It’d been a while since I’d been over to his house. Instead of the fine photography he usually had on display, the walls were covered in bold, ugly abstracts and a huge TV screen swallowed up the corner by the window where he used to keep his favorite reading chair. Even so, I was indeed sitting on his couch in his living room.

Standing behind him was the man I’d seen in the car with him: buzz-cut light brown hair, narrow face, and brown eyes set too wide. Jeremy.

Jeremy scowled at me, his arms crossed. He had on a black T-shirt, flannel over that, and jeans. Couldn’t see his feet, but I’d guess his shoes were on.

I could not guess whether he had just arrived or was headed out the door.

From the look on his face, I knew he and I were not friends. Not by a long shot.

No, we were enemies.

So Dessa and Dash had been right about him.

“Shame?” Terric said again. “Can you understand me?”

“Yes,” I said. Talking took more effort than it should. I didn’t think the drugs had done the last of their work on me.

“What happened?” he asked.

Jeremy scoffed. “You have to ask? He’s wasted.”

“Jeremy,” Terric said quietly, “I wasn’t talking to you.”

“He’s a waste, Terric. You want to do something for him, dump his ass in rehab.”

“He’s staying here,” Terric said.

“Fuck that. Aren’t you done with this piece of crap? After everything he’s done to you?”

“Jeremy,” Terric snarled. “Get out.”

Lots of anger in that Jeremy. I was following along, but the conversation was going by so quickly that by the time I pulled together a comment, they had moved on.

“You can’t just pretend this is normal, Terric. You can’t ignore what he is. Look at him. He’s a junkie piece of crap, baby. Win some, lose some. You lost him a long time ago. Let it go.”

Terric stood, and I tipped my head back to see what he was going to do.

He was looking down at me.

I gave him a smile. I’d seen that anger before.

Thought about putting together some words to warn ol’ Jeremy that he was about to get his ass handed to him on a platter, but figured he’d catch on soon enough.

Terric turned so he blocked my view of Jeremy. “Leave. Now.” Two words. Words that Jeremy really ought to listen to.

I actually hoped Jeremy would push it. It had been a while since I’d seen Terric punch someone in the face.

“Please, Terric.” Jeremy leaned toward him, the chair Terric had been sitting in between them. “He has you where he wants you. He’s preying on your sympathy. You have to be strong, remember? We talked about this. All he wants is to use you—”

“Out.”

“—use your magic for whatever rush can score—”

“Jeremy.” Terric pointed to the door. “Leave now before I do something to end this. End us.”

I could cut the tension with a knife. If, you know, I could actually lift my hand. Or make a fist tight enough to hold a knife.

Also, if I had a knife.

Jeremy looked past Terric to glare at me.

I winked at him.

Oh-ho, that did not go over well.

He used a few choice four-letter words and stormed across the room. A door slammed shut. Aw. I hurt his feelings.

Terric was still standing with his back toward me.

He shifted his shoulders just a bit, as if taking the weight of the damage that might have just been done to their relationship.

I was, once again, not a lot of help in his love life.

He turned to me. The anger wasn’t gone, but it was under control. Set aside for now. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

“Super,” I managed.

“Are you thirsty? Do you hurt?”

“Yes.” I answered both questions, even though I knew he could tell I was still in pain. Just one of the many joys of being tied to another person’s soul: he hurt, you hurt.

He sat back down in the chair with a sigh and handed me the glass of water from the side table.