* I had contacted Morelo in the early hours of the morning. I had convinced him to meet with me despite his hesitancy. Chloe Cross was bound and duct taped in the backseat of the truck. I couldn't trust her to behave. She was fucking nuts. She had exploded into a rage when I taped her up to put her in the truck. She used her head like a motherfucking wrecking ball. Morelo had given me the address to one of his abandoned warehouses. I didn't question his reasons. It worked better for me that way, anyways, trading Chloe to be clear of my debt. I could see her in the rear view mirror, glaring at me as I drove. I didn't care. We were going to be done soon and then I'd never have to see her bitchy face again. I had already decided I was moving to Canada. Way up north in Canada. Where no one fucking knew me. I had a nice ass truck to get me there. JB's money was in my pocket and the only thing I needed now was to be rid of Morelo. I whistled as I drove, and Chloe groaned. I snickered in response. The miles seem to melt as we drove, with me only stopping once for some drinks and food. Chloe didn't want to play by my rules, so she got shit. I didn't care if she never ate again. I was tired of driving and the GPS still had us two hundred miles from where I was supposed to meet Morelo. I turned up the radio as we drove, my mind wanting to think about all the shit I wished to forget. I did drugs to erase my past. I did drugs so I could numb the fucking pain of being worthless my whole life. When I was high, nothing else mattered. I didn't feel the rejection. I didn't feel the hate. I didn't feel anything. My father had been an abusive prick and I could see the similarities between the two of us as I drove. I carried hate. I fed it, I allowed it to burn bright within me. My mother had been a whore. I'd spent most of my childhood in a whorehouse where I watched men use women for their own satisfaction. I had done the same to any female I came in contact with. Jolene thought she could change me. That she could take the very core of me that was twisted and bend it back into shape. She learned that she couldn't change me. She couldn't fix me. I shook my head. Fuck all that. Fuck the past and fuck anyone and everyone who had ever hurt me. We were close to the warehouse and hours of thinking had done nothing but piss me right the fuck off. It was time to dump this situation and move out. *


* I had contacted Morelo in the early hours of the morning. I had convinced him to meet with me despite his hesitancy. Chloe Cross was bound and duct taped in the backseat of the truck. I couldn't trust her to behave. She was fucking nuts. She had exploded into a rage when I taped her up to put her in the truck. She used her head like a motherfucking wrecking ball. Morelo had given me the address to one of his abandoned warehouses. I didn't question his reasons. It worked better for me that way, anyways, trading Chloe to be clear of my debt. I could see her in the rear view mirror, glaring at me as I drove. I didn't care. We were going to be done soon and then I'd never have to see her bitchy face again. I had already decided I was moving to Canada. Way up north in Canada. Where no one fucking knew me. I had a nice ass truck to get me there. JB's money was in my pocket and the only thing I needed now was to be rid of Morelo. I whistled as I drove, and Chloe groaned. I snickered in response. The miles seem to melt as we drove, with me only stopping once for some drinks and food. Chloe didn't want to play by my rules, so she got shit. I didn't care if she never ate again. I was tired of driving and the GPS still had us two hundred miles from where I was supposed to meet Morelo. I turned up the radio as we drove, my mind wanting to think about all the shit I wished to forget. I did drugs to erase my past. I did drugs so I could numb the fucking pain of being worthless my whole life. When I was high, nothing else mattered. I didn't feel the rejection. I didn't feel the hate. I didn't feel anything. My father had been an abusive prick and I could see the similarities between the two of us as I drove. I carried hate. I fed it, I allowed it to burn bright within me. My mother had been a whore. I'd spent most of my childhood in a whorehouse where I watched men use women for their own satisfaction. I had done the same to any female I came in contact with. Jolene thought she could change me. That she could take the very core of me that was twisted and bend it back into shape. She learned that she couldn't change me. She couldn't fix me. I shook my head. Fuck all that. Fuck the past and fuck anyone and everyone who had ever hurt me. We were close to the warehouse and hours of thinking had done nothing but piss me right the fuck off. It was time to dump this situation and move out. *

Comments

  1. Vincent GainesJune 7, 2017 at 7:55 PM

    I was fucking tired of this motherfucker and ready to be done so I could get back to my mate. I reached out searching for everyone's location and finding where Morelo's vampires were. Then I found Cross. Using my senses and my abilities I found what I was looking for. With a small push I lifted the piece of metal, pushing it through Cross like a knife through butter. He screamed and I held him in place moving in front of him. He tried to lift his arm to pull the trigger of the gun still in his hand but with one thought I had the gun falling to the floor. He growled in pain as I stood over him and I watched as the vampires along with Slade and Cole surrounded Cross. Blood spilled from the wound as Cross continued to growl. "What the fuck? Let me go motherfucker." I looked down at him. The only place your going is to hell. Two vampires took hold of Cross and drug him as the other two waited for orders from me. Let's go! I want to check on my mate before I kill that bastard. "Follow us." Turning we made our way through the building and to the truck and followed them to my mate and Cross's death.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Beck Hadrian (Dark Protectors)June 7, 2017 at 7:56 PM

    * I held my hand over the wound in Chloe's abdomen as Morelo shouted out orders to his men. I crouched over Vincent's mate, my hands applying pressure to the wounds evenly. She had been shot in the back, the bullet passing through her front, right at her kidneys. * Don't fucking touch her. * Morelo snarled at me, his fangs pronounced. I growled, showing ny own canines. * She's part of my pack. If you don't want to lose your head you'll respect my position. * I would rip his head off if necessary, related to Chloe or not. He eased back, begrudgingly. My mind raced with the different things to check; her pulse, her pupils, calculate her blood pressure based on heart rate. Blood slipped through my fingers as I used my other hand to rip my t-shirt. I balled it up and stuffed it against the wound. * How much further? * I asked, feeling concern over Chloe's condition. Her vitals were weak. Her lips were starting to turn to blue. * Twenty minutes, tops. * Morelo raked his blood stained hands through his hair. * Tell them to go faster. * I suggested, moving Chloe so I could put pressure on the entry wound as well as the exit wound. I knew Vincent and the others would come through for us. I trusted Cole and Slade to keep Vincent somewhat controlled. Morelo snapped at his driver via an ear comm and I felt the SUV jump forward as the accelerator was pressed harder. * Hang on, Chloe, your mate needs you.

    https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/yCoZHCESY2All3wMl1flAoXYYIEMPfrJG5OMfDlTQWdD7GMbzOhbCnZz0JuFvtfp-WWaYQGHYGw

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  3. Ricky Cross (Dark Protectors)June 7, 2017 at 7:58 PM

    * I had been tossed into a holding cell - one of the ones that I dreaded before - and left in the dark. Chloe's ignorant ass mate had stabbed me with metal and it hurt. It hurt real fucking bad. I was going to die. I knew it. They were just dragging it out to make me suffer. Everything had gone to shit. I was exactly where I had tried to avoid. "Fucking Morelo." I growled, coughing up blood. I spit across the cell. "Motherfucker." I hated him. And I hated Jolene even more. I fucking hated everyone and everything, and quite frankly, death would be welcome at this point. Anything to avoid the torture I knew was coming. I hadn't meant to shoot Chloe. At least, that's the lie I told myself. Deep down inside, I had done exactly what I had wanted to do. And now, I laid in the dark, damp cell, hearing the water dripping along the old stone walls. It was my sincere hope that when they brought me forward for my crimes, Chloe's death would be at the top of the list. I'd finally confess to killing Jolene too, despite my earlier bouts of innocence. I would tell them all what I thought of them seconds before the blade connected with my neck. The fuckers could sort the shit out between them then. I wouldn't give a fuck at all. *

    ReplyDelete

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