The Handsome Devil

Chapter 19 - Wicked Monthiversary II

Without hesitation, Deya took a step towards the stranger and sent a kick to his crotch, her right hand slamming into his chin the moment he leaned forward in pain.

Everyone's attention was turned toward them and the air was filled with cheers, but she saw and heard nothing of it. Eyes fixed firmly on her pray, the only thing she heard was the deafening beating of her heart.

She gave him time to recuperate, standing at arms length from him. The moment he straightened himself and sent a blow her way, she was more than ready to dodge it and kick his ribcage.

It proved that heels can be very effective weapon. Once they painfully buried into the stranger's side, he collapsed on his knees. Instinctively, Deya kneed the bloody face in front of her, putting cherry on the top of her first fight.

She turned to the exit, facing the crowd of her spectators for the first time. Nonetheless, it was as if she hasn't seen any of them. As she started to walk, people quietly stepped aside and watched her leave. Her face reflected the state of her mind. Empty. Empty of thoughts, of feelings, of any awareness of her own existence.

But her zombie body didn't get too far. Once she walked in front of the club, someone's hand caught her shoulder, turning her around abruptly. Assuming it's the man from before, the girl sent a punch without as much as looking up.

However, her fist was caught before hitting it's target.

"What the actual fuck?" Max's voice made her snap out of the trans, even though she was far from being able to speak.

Surprisingly, his face didn't seem angry this time. No, there was something else. Surprise? Maybe.

"What was that about?" He motioned toward the club, but the girl just shrugged. How could she explain? It felt as if she was watching it whole unveil from third perspective and it definitely wasn't a good feeling.

Max just shook his head in disbelief when something seemed to dawn on him.

"What were you even doing there?" He released her tiny fist after what felt like minutes, just to grab her upper arm roughly instead.

"What are you... doing here?" The expression in his eyes was not dissimilar to betrayal and Deya couldn't help but chuckle. Was it really so hard to believe she would try to escape?

After minutes of silence during which his eyes didn't stop to stab into hers, Max dragged her to the club bodyguard and whispered something she didn't catch. Without hesitation, he disappeared inside and the next moment, the girl's body was being pushed into a car.

The whole drive, she reflected on everything that happened. She hurt a person. With her bare hands. Yes, technically he did deserve it, but she felt as if the last month made her loose a bit of herself. She has never been violent, and now it felt as if once she starts, there's no going back. It was as if some well hidden animalistic part of her surfaced today.

If it wasn't for Dylan's betrayal and the fight with Max, it would never happened. Automatically, her mind turned to the second mission. John and Evelyn. Was it time to add them to the list of people she caused suffering to? They might have seemed rich, but god knows how much money the Bulldogs will take. Did she put the livelihood of their children in jeopardy?

The guilt was killing her. They both were so nice to them during the dinner, and all the while, she was there to deceive them. Unknowingly so, but still.

That evening, there were six faces haunting her every time she closed her eyes. Her parents. Timmy. The poor officer Max shot. And now, the faces of Evelyn and John Smith.