Riding with the Beast (an MC Fairy Tale)

11 - Sonja

Sonja

The Beast went still.

I started to shake. I hadn’t even heard a voice yet, just a sound that always prefaced voices I never wanted to hear. A gun cocks, and a man slides the cold metal barrel over your cheek. He tells you to lick it, to suck on it. His eyes grow lustful as you do as he says until he can’t stand it any longer and tells you to put his dick in your mouth. Sometimes human flesh can be more heartless than a machine.

I scraped the dirt in front of my knees, feeling metal and hairs and dust collect under my nails. I was suddenly aware of how hard the ground was, of how it hurt my kneecaps. As desperation consumed me, I remembered the Beast.

His stillness was so complete that it seemed in human, and that animistic unpredictability made him appear more threatening and distant. But those were only superficial observations. I knew that silence could mean other things—acceptance could be mistaken for dignity, and paralytic fear for patience. Was he planning something, or had he given up?

“Move away from him, Bella.”

I didn’t recognize the voice, but that didn’t matter. He worked for Alexander and he knew who I was. Bella. Just hearing that name made me sick.

The Beast shifted.

The man behind us clucked. “No, not you. Her. You move again and I shoot.”

So he hadn’t made his move because we were too close. Alexander wanted me alive. That wasn’t surprising. He couldn’t risk hurting me, so I could sit here forever.

Which would help for maybe fifteen minutes. Alexander would come soon to look for him. Actually, this man might have messaged him before he intervened. If I continued to sit here, the Beast was as good as dead.

I pushed my fingers into the ground, digging until I held all the debris I could in my balled fists. The man behind probably couldn’t see what I was doing; I was barely moving, and certainly not moving enough to make him suspicious.

“No.” The Beast exhaled the command so softly that I almost didn’t hear it. Maybe I didn’t and it was just my own fear trying to find a way out of what I had to do. I wouldn’t let it. I grit my teeth and held the dust in my palm.

The man clicked his tongue. The opportunity for escape was slipping away. “Come on, little Bella.”

The diminutive made me shake harder. I hated how something so small could incite such a strong reaction. Little Bella. Sweet Bella. My Bella. Alexander used to crone those exact words in my ear. And my father…

I closed my hands until they shook. Something sharp in the debris cut into my palm. Those weren’t just taunts, they were burning nails searing my skin, reminding me of all I never was. I’d throw them in his face and blind him with them. Then, we’d get away. I glanced over my shoulder.

It was a mistake. I should have just hurled the dirt in his face in one swift, confident motion, but I was angry. Anger made you do stupid things. Whatever the stranger with a gun saw in my eyes made him suspicious enough to act.

I heard the gunshot clack before something barreled into my side. I fell to the side, hitting a copper pipe as the dirt from my left hand sifted through my fingers. No one responded to my cry. It took me a moment to realize I’d been pushed out of the way—it took a moment to realize that the desperate grunting sounds beside me were coming from two men furiously fighting for their lives.

Slowly, I looked over my shoulder.

The Beast was on top of the man, his large thighs pinning him down just as he’d pinned me down a few minutes before. The Beast’s elbow was around the man’s neck. The other was clasped around the man’s wrist, pushing his tailored suit to the ground as the man tried to twist his wrist free. You see, the gun was still in his hand, and he was still trying to get a clear shot.