Page 3 of The Filth Kings II

She killed my baby, and I felt like a sucker to still crave her in ways that should be turned into me wanting to crack her fuckin’ neck. It’s been months, and she thinks I don’t know about the fake dates she goes on. Maybe I was like Impurity, even though she and everyone else always told me that I wasn’t. I wanted to believe that, but Angel was pushing me to no return. A filthy, dark part of me wanted to kick in her parent’s door, drag her ass out, and lock her up in a cage, since she treated me like a worn outfit that she would toss away once she no longer wanted it. Angel knew exactly who and what I am… A Decebal man. Any man that she would be bold enough to let touch her would end up just like this Asian man that’s getting brutally handled by Monster.

Speaking of this man, I didn’t know who the fuck he was and why he had been following Monster and I for half of the day. Monster cocked his head to the side and studied the man like he was some specimen under a microscope.

“Again, who sent you?” He growled out.

No answer.

Monster backhanded him, hard. The man’s head snapped to the side; Monster slapped him back-to-back with harder force than the last slap.

“I’m not gonna ask you again,” Monster threatened.

I exhaled roughly then stepped forward. I forced my own miserable thoughts away, just to reel Monster in. I needed for him to snap out of his rage and understand where the fuck we was at. I didn’t do messy murders. I didn’t care that it was dark out, it was seven p.m., and I could still hear the hustle and bustle from the city. Monster never cared about the time or place. If he wanted you dead, he got creative to see to it that it happened right then and there. Right now, I was in no position to get caught slipping. I had too much to lose to the shit that I had already loss and had to step down from since the media—including the world—was against me.

“Monster.” I called out to him. I stood close enough to smell the blood that leaked from the man’s nose and mouth.

Monster didn’t acknowledge me, his focus was locked on the bastard that just pissed himself in front of us. Monster was locked into a different mode; I knew just how far he’d take it out here in this alley. The man coughed violently; blood spiraled down his chin.

“I—I’m sorry! I wasn’t following the two of you! I just happen to be in the wrong area!” He rasped out, his accent was faint but there. I chuckled then ran my hand down my face. I hated a liar, they deserved the worse type of treatment.But not here… I thought.

Monster let out a sinister laugh, he cracked his neck from side to side and sneered.

“Wrong fuckin’ answer,” he growled out.

He drove his fist into the man’s gut, which folded him in half. A choked gasp escaped his lips, and he wheezed like he couldn’t catch his breath. Monster refused to let him fall. He kept him upright, his grip unrelenting. I rolled my shoulders and tried to push the irritation that rose inside of me down. This wasn’t necessary, at least not yet.

“That’s enough,” I stated.

Monster’s head tilted slightly, as if he was considering what I said. Seconds later, he turned to look at me. In that second, I saw it…The hunger and darkness that lurked inside of him. I clenched my jaw and shook my head, motioning with my hands for him to get a grip of the bigger picture.

“We got what the fuck we needed,” I retorted.

“No the fuck we didn’t,” Monster muttered, then let him go.

The man fell to the ground like a broken doll; he gasped for air with one hand clutching his ribs. I glanced down at him to study his face, his eyes were still alert. Whatever he was here for, he was trained. He knew how to take a hit. But even the strongest man cracked when they saw their own grave being dug.

Monster eyed the blood that was glued to his knuckles. I thought that he would wipe the blood on his black Levi jeans, but instead, he watched the man attempt to crawl backwards.

“You get his bitch ass up and throw him in the truck!” He gritted out angrily.

There was no point in Monster and I getting into it. I understood his anger better than anybody else. He hated being stopped in the middle of his moment. Only his wife could halt his actions, and he’d soften from her gaze alone. Ever since we understood that we were blood brothers and that Monster was the eldest, he liked to call orders, forgetting that I didn’t play by anyone else’s tune but mine.

I grabbed the guy by his jacket and yanked his trembling body up. He tried to speak, maybe beg, but his words got lost between bloody coughs. Monster popped the trunk of his black sedan and this man’s fate was already written out. Nobody came out of his trunk the same way they went in…ninety percent of people never even came out.

The man weakly struggled against his will as I shoved him inside. He gave in and collapsed in the small space as I quickly grabbed the chains and padlock where Monster had his spare tire at. I chained his hands and ankles together then slammed the trunk.

“Should have minded your fuckin’ business,” Monster muttered before turning away from me.

I ran a hand down my jaw and thought about the bottle of cognac that sat on the floor on the passenger side that I occupied.

“Take me home,” I said into the night air.

We drove to my house in silence, the best way to be. My mind and the thoughts locked inside of it made me feel like I would crash out at any given moment.

“You don’t have to go home to clean up just to eat Sunday dinner,” Monster stated dryly.

I smirked at him crookedly. Monster never ceased to amaze me. Even through our own darkness, he still spoke humorously. He was serious, and I liked that he hadn’t changed much now that he was married. He stayed in true form and wasn’t ashamed of who he was, how it should be. My brother, my twisted demented brother that mirrored me. I didn’t know which one of us was worse.

“I’m not going to Sunday dinner,” I stated.

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