Unlocking Him: A Spot Conlon Love Story

Chapter Twenty Seven: A Knife and a Note

"What do you'se means she's gone??!!"

"Disappeared."

Spike punched the wall, evidentially not the first time. There were many fist sized holes in the mildewing, peeling walls. Bella just stood there completely calm. But, she was strangling Charlie in her mind. She felt a deep, demanding desire to hear the terror and pain in her enemy's voice. She wanted to be the one to cause the once brave, skilled, dangerous Charlie to suffer. She wanted to dominate over her. It was the same concept with Spot, except she didn't hate him. She hated how he didn't love her with the same burning passion she loved him with. But he had something to offer her, making her want him. Spot meant power. She craved power. Being his lover meant pleasure only he can provide. He was the best she had ever experienced, when he was cooperative. Which is a lot to say, considering how many she's had her way with. She surprised herself with how she could control him, if she really wanted to of course. That was a good thing. She loved a challenge. But, as with Charlie, she desperately wanted to hear him in pain, in order to teach him a lesson only she could teach. The fact that he was disgusted by her tore her apart. She didn't know whether she hated the fact or that it was good for making him miserable. Nevertheless, it was a satisfaction that couldn't be topped.

"Ya know the new boy's gone too. Maybe he was from Brooklyn." Spike said, thinking out loud.

"Nah he wasn't. I'se knows every Brooklyn boy an dey didn't get any new kids. He was probably from 'Hatten."

"From 'Hatten?"

"She lives in 'Hatten rememba? They'se also on good terms with Brooklyn. Probably planned it all out, knowin' ya wouldn't 'ave da brains ta catch on."

"Jacky Boy messed wit da wrong borough."

"Damn right he did. That is, if it was him that sent da boy."

"Ya ain't makin' no sense, sis."

"What I'se mean is dat Brooklyn an 'Hatten are on good terms. Real good terms. Spot's too smart ta send someone we'se would recognize. He probably got Jacky Boy ta send someone or got a 'Hatten friend ta go out of fear or friendship or whateva. Cowboy may or may not have somethin' ta do wit it."

"You'se right."

"Aren't I always?"

"Wit you an everythin' ya knows bout Brooklyn, we'se might actually be able ta bring 'em down."

"Come again?"

"I'se serious. I'se wants his blood on my hands. Or I'll never be satisfied!"

Bella rubbed her newly swelling belly. Did she want him dead? She remembered as a child, wanting to be a mother. But she didn't like it. She thought of her mother and how horrible she was at it. She wouldn't be like her. Instead of babying her dolls, she ripped them apart. She could never be a good mother. Never ever. But this time it was real. She actually had a living child within her. It would have a life. It wasn't a toy she could destroy in her own rage. She'd never killed anyone, and despite her way of living she never really intended to. She was so mixed up. She deeply desired to harm and hurt others, and yet at the same time she wished she could nurture and love someone with all of her being. But she tried to ignore it all. Emotions were for rookies.

"I've got a better idea."

***Brooklyn***

Charlie yawned and rolled over to the edge of the bed. Still half asleep, her eyes fluttered open. As her vision focused, she lost her balance and fell to the floor.

"Shit!"

Spot shot up at the ringing sound of her curse. He lit a candle, and he laughed so hard he nearly fell out of the bed himself.