Page 58 of The Filth Kings II

“You chose him over our Angel! Your own blood! This is where I draw the fuckin’ line!” She snatched her wedding ring and threw it at my feet.

I sipped my scotch and remained quiet to let the fire coat my throat and tongue before I responded.

“She disrespected me, snooped around in my business! That little bitch crossed lines that can’t be uncrossed. I don’t give a fuck if she came from my body or yours. She’s nothing to me anymore.” I took another sip of my drink, satisfied with my words. The same words that Impurity said over and over until it was embedded in my mind.

“She was our baby…our only…you let her walk away like she was nothing,” she whispered.

“You loved her, James. You used to take pride in fatherhood. I loved watching you love on her then overnight…you just grew cold toward her!”

I walked to her slowly. Along the way I sat my glass down on the coffee table. I reached for Angelica’s chin; she jerked away fast. I reach again for it anyway, then grabbed it firmly.

“I love you, but I don’t bend for anyone but Impurity.” I spoke the truth as she ripped her face away, tears falling freely down her face.

She turned her back to me and held her shoulders up. A pain shot through my chest; I ignored it.

“I’m tired, James. Tired of loving a man who doesn’t know how to choose correctly.” Angelica’s sad voice almost touched me. She almost made me believe that she was going to actually leave me.

I didn’t know how that would make me feel. Truth is, if she did leave, at least I’d still have Impurity. I could manage with Impurity, although it was clear that I felt more for him than he felt for me after all. I thought after having him saved, using all of my life savings to pull it off would make him see that I was the better pick for him. I also believed that with time, Impurity would get over all of the betrayal from Herringbone. He couldn’t get over the fact that he still loved that man, even though all along he was indeed his half-brother.

“Then stop it all; if you’re tired, go get help because you’ve been delusional for a very long time,” I spat out and walked away from her to retrieve my glass of scotch.

I took a seat on the couch and crossed my legs as I eyed Angelica’s back. I took down the rest of my drink then rested it to the side of me.

“Just don’t lie and say you didn’t know who the fuck I was, when you begged to be mine. It was never the other way around.”

There was a ring at the door, I ignored it.

“Angel is coming to pick me up. Since she lives with Detavio, she offered her home to me. I made peace with my daughter, although I know she won’t forgive me right away. I’m choosing her like I should have been did a long time ago. So, fuck you!” Angelica spat without turning to look at me.

“You can’t face me and say it!” I uncrossed my legs and called for her.

She ignored me as she continued her steps to the front door.

“ANGELICA! I’M YOUR HUSBAND, GOT DAMMIT!” I yelled, not caring how desperate I sounded.

The front door slammed shut behind her with the kind of finality that didn’t echo, it lingered. She didn’t look back not once. She didn’t cry, say goodbye, or even beg. I sat frozen in the middle of the living room, my hand started to shake as emotions slowly took over. I closed my eyes for a couple of seconds and heard the sound of heavy boots thumping against my floor.

I blinked back the tears that I didn’t know was there and saw the devil standing tall in my living room. My lungs felt like they collapsed as I took in his pitch-black skin. He grinned as his gold grills shined brightly. A large metal box hung from a chain that was wrapped tightly in his hand. He didn’t speak right away, the calmness radiating off of him terrified me.

“Monster,” I whispered in disbelief.

He was beautiful, even with scars decorating his face. I never saw a man like him up close. Impurity described how pitched black his first son was when he was born, and I didn’t believe him. His skin looked smooth and silky. I damn near pissed myself when he pulled out a long silver gun from the small of his back and pointed it my way.

He slammed the metal box down on my coffee table, which caused the glass to shatter into tiny pieces.

“Open the box,” he spoke flatly.

“Wha—what is it,” I asked, barely able to move an inch.

“Open the fucking box.” He upped his gun.

I slowly fell down to my knees and winced out in pain from the tiny shards of glass poking through my pants and into my kneecaps. Hesitantly, I touched the latches to the metal box first. Slowly I raised the lid with trembling hands. The smell hit me first, rotten flesh…

Inside caused my entire world, as I knew it, to end. The man that I was in love with, the only person who understood every function of me…was cut up into small pieces. His face was bloated, lips parted, eyes pitch black, sitting on top of the pieces left to his cut up body.

“No…” I choked then stumbled back.

I gripped my chest and blinked my eyes rapidly. I hadn’t prayed in years but found myself praying, asking God to not let this be true.

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