Misfits - Chapter 23 (Patreon)

Rue

“What did he say to you?” I look up and Cal is standing in the doorway of the bedroom. He’s wearing only a pair of sweatpants, and his usually pushed back hair is wild. He’s gazing at me with a serious expression. The car ride home was silent. And tense. Cal didn’t speak a word and I didn’t dare to speak one at him. I could already tell he was angry, I didn’t want to be the one to set him off.

“What?” I ask. He pushes himself off the door jam, walking towards me, never wavering eye contact. He sits on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. He doesn’t speak immediately, only stares at me. Hard.

“I said, what did he say to you.” My nerves are completely shot as he stares at me. I chant to myself over and over again, he won’t hurt me. But I was finding that harder and harder to do the more I found out about him.

“He just wanted to know if I was ok,” I lie. Cal narrows his eyes at me and looks away.

“You’re lying,” he murmurs. He turns away from me on the bed, so that his back is facing me. A silence overcomes us. I don’t know what to say. I never thought I would be in a situation such as this one. But here I was. I focus on Cal’s backside, looking at the tattoos adorning it. But as I focus even closer, I can see something I’ve never noticed before. Scars. Without even realizing it, I’m reaching out towards his back, towards the deep welts in his flesh I’ve never noticed before.

He has his head in his hands, and I slowly run my finger along the deep welt. He jumps slightly before relaxing when he realizes it’s me. I run my finger along the scar that runs all the way from his shoulder blade to his lower back. Once my finger reaches the end of it, I take notice of another that was near it. I place my hand softly against his back, as I trace that one too.

What kind of hell did Cal go through. My eyes begin burning, and tears fall over. I’m crying. Why I don’t know. Maybe I’m crying for Cal. Maybe I’m crying for me, or this fucked up world we lived in. But I don’t stop them as they travel down my face. Cal slowly turns around, and when he sees my tears, his look of frustration all but disappears from his face, leaving a look of worry.

He turns quickly, reaching out to wipe my tears but as soon as his hand comes near my face, I jump back. He slowly drops his hand, as a sad look appears in his features. He lets out a breath.

“Rue,” he murmurs.

“Talk to me, please.” I look up at him, shaking my head in disbelief. I see him as my Cal. The man that had saved me countless times when I never asked him to. The man that always put my needs before his. Even now, he was more worried about my tears than his own frustrations.

Vitale’s words come back to me as I stare at him. Cal killed his men because they kicked him. And he almost killed Vitale because he laughed. Where was the sense in that? But as I look at him right now, and see the hurt and pain on his face, I can’t imagine him doing those things.

“Why?” I whisper.

“Why do you do it?” I look up at him, searching his face for any kind of remorse.

“You don’t do it because you have to, Cal. Vitale told me about how you two met,” I say. Cal tenses in front of me. Then irritation crosses his features, and he places his head in his hands.

“Rue, please... you-”

“What if it were me, Cal. What if I pissed you off in the middle of the street huh?” I ask. He looks taken aback.

“Would you have hunted me down and murdered me just because I made you mad?” I say.

“Rue. You know I would never hurt you,” he says with a serious expression.

He looks as though he genuinely believes he never would. And it makes me angry. He didn’t get what I was saying he didn’t understand what empathy was. What self-control was? What it meant to have a conscience.

I jump up, letting my anger fuel me, shoving him hard away from the bed. He stumbles staring at me in shock. But I don’t stop. I push at him again, but this time he doesn’t move. He’s still staring at me in confusion. So I settle for something a little less subtle. I swing at his chest. He grabs my arms, but I don’t stop. I scream and scratch and kick and do everything I can to hit him.

“Rue! Rue stop!” he shouts at me, but I don’t. I keep on. I keep on until he loses his balance, letting go of my arms, and I throw a hard hit at him, catching him completely off guard.

My hand connects with the side of his face, the loud smack resonating throughout the room.

I’m breathing hard, my anger beginning to die down and the severity of what I just did weighs down on me. I stand straight, staring at him, and slowly back away. I can see the muscle in his jaw working. His eyes are squeezed shut. He slowly stands to his full height, looking down at me, with an emotionless gaze. And it scares me. It really does. But I raise my chin and stand my ground.

“Now what. You gonna kill me too?” I growl. He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t respond. He only studies me. His bright amber gaze is unwavering and still and he stares at me. He blinks, furrows his brow, and scoffs.

He takes a few short steps and he is standing over me still silent. I try and be brave, but I can feel my legs shaking in fear. He slowly reaches his hand towards me, and I close my eyes, tight. Ready for death.

But I feel his knuckles brushing lightly against my cheek. Then I feel his palm flatten against my face. I open my eyes, and he’s staring down at me, with one of his rare smiles. It’s soft. I’m trapped in his gaze, unable to look away. I can feel his thumb as it moves lightly back and forth over my cheek.

“I told you, princess. I would never hurt you.”

* * * * *

Cal

When I was younger, I used to wonder what was wrong with me. I used to ask myself if I was normal. If my thoughts were abnormal. From a young age, I wanted death for those around me. But the ones around me only inflicted pain on me. I never had anyone that showed me love and compassion.

Was I incapable of love? Rue tried to give me another example of what empathy is, but I just couldn’t get it. What is empathy? Why would I care about the life I was going to take if it had no significant use to me?

I stand in the doorway of the guest bedroom. Rue is in the bed asleep. She insisted on sleeping in here from now on. Until the break ends and school starts back. Then she wants to apply for campus living. She wants to get away from me. Maybe she was right to.

I chuckle to myself. Rue was probably the only person that has ever slapped me and lived to tell the tale. In that moment, she was trying to teach me another lesson I’m sure. But I couldn’t focus on her morals. Even when she slapped me. Of course, I was pissed, but the thought of snuffing out her life never even crossed my mind.

I step away from the door, going in search of a cigarette. At this rate, I was going to smoke myself into an early grave. I find one in the kitchen, and light it up, letting it ease my nerves. I’ve never been this stressed about anything before. All of this, was caused by one woman.

I pull out my phone to see I had 7 missed calls from Vitale. I roll my eyes shoving my phone back in my pocket. He pissed me the fuck off telling Rue what he did. I don’t know what his goal was in this, but I know that it can’t be good. Vitale didn’t like having someone like Rue in my life. Because for him, it meant less control over me.

I take a deep breath, inhaling the smoke from my cig. My phone lights up again with Vitale. I let out a groan, answering it.

“What,” I growl.

“Where the fuck have you been?" Vitale’s voice comes back through the phone angry.

“Cleaning up the mess you made,” I snap.

“No. You made that fucking mess Cal when you decided to screw an innocent girl and lie to her about everything that you are. That is your problem. Your fucking mess. Not mine,” he hisses.

“If this girl is going to be an issue between us, you had better tell me-”

“Don’t you dare drag Rue into this,” I growl. I’m met with silence. Vitale lets out a deep sigh.

“Ok. Ok.. we’re just both a little heated right now. I apologize,” he says.

“What do you want,” I say back. I know Vitale. He never apologized unless he wants something.

“Well. Since you asked. There’s this man, that seems to be threatening my business.”

I scoff aloud. There it is. I knew he wanted something.

“Who is it?”

“Paul Viderccii. He does this ever so often. Comes around, stirring up trouble for me. He’s been a real nuisance lately. I need you to go rough him up a bit. If he still doesn’t want to relinquish the claim he has on my territory, you’re welcome to end him.” I can feel my excitement boiling up when Vitale says those last words. That was just what I needed. Hopefully, Paul wasn’t going to be up to cooperate.

“You got it, boss,” I say sarcastically. I hang up the phone before Vitale can even respond.

I take one last drag of my cigarette and turn to get ready, but immediately pause. Rue was standing in the center of the room, staring at me with wide eyes.

Even now I can’t help but notice how damn beautiful she was. She was wearing a tank top and some shorts that left little to the imagination. I could even see her pert breasts through the thin cotton of the top she had on. And her hair. It’s splayed wildly around her, some of the curls tickling her shoulder blades. Damn.

“You’re smoking in the house?” she says. I tense, completely forgetting I had a cigarette in my hand. I squeeze my eyes shut, realizing my mistake. I quickly stab it out on the counter and stand.

“I didn’t know you were awake,” I say.

“Obviously,” she says crossing her arms over her chest.

“Where are you going?"

Fuck.

“Doing something for Vitale,” I say.

She lets out a breath of disbelief and throws her hands in the air.

“My God, Cal! It hasn’t even been a week!” she shouts.

“You can’t go a week without taking the life of another human being?” She’s still glaring at me with that scowl of disappointment, and I can feel my anger beginning to grow.

“Just because Vitale told you to do it, doesn’t make it right, Cal-” I jump up from my chair, standing straight and letting all of my frustrations out.

“I fucking know that Rue! Don’t you think I fucking know that?! I know there is something seriously wrong with my fucked up head! I know! I know I should feel.. something for these people that I murder. But I don’t! I don’t give a fuck! Vitale has already tried to explain this to me!”

Her eyes grow wide with each word I speak, and she backs away from me slowly. I know I should shut up, but I just can’t. I don’t want to. I want her to understand, stop trying to lecture me, and just accept me for who I am.

“I love it. Ok? I do! And I have never, ever felt bad about it! Not once! I’m sorry I wasn’t born like you, with a conscience and empathy. I’m sorry! But this is me, Rue! The blatant, honest, ugly me! I’m a fucking fucked up person, that does it for fun and because I want to! Happy? All this time, you’ve asked me to open up and be honest, well now I have and look at us!” She stares at me wide-eyed and brings her hand to her mouth.

I give a bitter laugh. I don’t know why I ever thought this was a good idea. Having her, loving her, making her mine. It was all dumb. I should have known she would never accept me. Truly accept me for me.

“I’m so so sorry. Rue. I’m sorry that I saw you that night, I’m sorry that for some reason, your life stood out to me.” I’m walking across the room to her as I speak until I’m standing over her. She’s looking at me with wide eyes. I can’t help but reach out and push those three curls that loved to fall in her face away.

“But I will never apologize for falling in love with you,” I say. I search her eyes for that look of adoration she used to give me. For love. For something. But all I can see is shock. And fear. Of me.

I want to touch her. I want to caress her soft cheeks against my palm. I want to place my hand against her face, hold her, and watch as she closes her eyes, enjoying the comfort I was providing. But I know that if I do, she will tense and jump away from me. And I can’t see her do that again. Not this time.

I let out a deep sigh, walking past her and into my bedroom. I head straight for the closet, finding a jacket and changing from sweatpants to jeans. I make sure to grab a pair of my leather gloves out of my dresser. If things went south, which I really hoped they did, I would need these to keep my prints off the crime scene. I’d learned that a long time ago.

I step out of the closet, ready to go, heading straight for the garage. I walk past the living room and spot Rue on the long couch with her head in her hands. My footsteps falter, and I want more than anything to go over to her and hold her. Her shoulders shake slightly, and I know that she’s crying.

I head into the garage, going straight for my mustang. It was customized specifically for this kind of jobs. The trunk was spaced and had a hidden compartment along with all the tools I needed for these kinds of hits. I slide into the white interior, starting the car, listening to the loud roar fill the garage.

I press the button to lead me out of the garage and pull out heading in search of my newest target.

* * * * *

I’m sitting in the office of Paul Vidercii. It was nice. There are diplomas on the wall, nice furniture, and bookcases, all giving an outsider a glimpse of the successful man that was going to change their lives. But as I look around, I see a whole different world.

The compartments hiding drugs and weapons, the candle holder against the wall that opens a panic room, and the decoration blades that were behind his desk and conveniently within arms reach. He had a double life, which was dangerous. He was a well-prepared man. I look at the frame on the table, and there’s a picture of him and a blonde-haired woman. They’re on a beach smiling at the camera.

I stare at it, trying to force myself to feel some kind of hesitation in ending this man's life, but none comes to the forefront. I can’t even begin to imagine what Rue is talking about when she says I lack empathy. I scoff aloud. Even when I’m about to be out in danger, I can’t help but think about Rue.

The doorknob on the far side of the room begins to move and opens. In walks Paul obviously unaware of my presence. He’s looking down at his phone and foolishly lets the door close behind him. His door was an automatic lock door. So no one could get in without a key, and no one could get out unless they pressed the button located on his desk which I was currently occupying. I pull my gun out, aiming it at him.

“Hello, Paul,” I say. He jumps, and looks at me with wide eyes, dropping all his belongings and holding his hands high in the air.

“Wait. If it’s money you’re after-”

“I don’t want your money, Paul. I just want to talk,” I say. I motion to the seat in front of his desk, and he slowly walks towards it.

Paul was an averaged sized male with brown hair that was balding in the middle and an average muscle build. But he wasn’t cut out for the world he was trying to force his way into. I could tell by the way he was beginning to sweat and shake.

“Now. I’m assuming you know who I am, and why I’m here,” I say. He gives me no indication that he’s aware, so I reach in my pocket, pulling out the jar for Paul. His eyes widen and he seems to lose his breath for a moment.

“Oh... you’re Vitale’s... The collector," he whispers. I smile a little. I hadn’t heard that name in a while. I had many names in the underground, the collector being one of them, seeing as I collected the debt that was owed to Vitale by taking their lives and collecting their blood.

I stand, walking around the desk and sitting on the front so that I’m right in front of Paul. I grab the jar, showing it to him.

“Now. Usually, if your fate has already been declared by Vitale, I would have a specially reserved bottle for you. Which means your name would already be on it.” I show him the blank space where his name should be.

“I’m not in the best of moods tonight. See, I told my girl about what I really do for a living, and she’s not taking it too well. Honestly, I’m a little nervous about her leaving me. And, well, Vitale gave me this job right when she was fighting with me about it. Lucky for you, he wants to give you a chance to decide your fate.” I place the jar back on the tabletop, pointing my gun between Pauls eyes.

“So what will it be, Paul. I really need to blow off some steam. So either you, stop giving Vitale trouble, or I’ll make you stop. Permanently,” I say, giving him my most menacing voice.

He’s sweating bullets as he stares down the bullet of my gun.

“Y-Y-you don’t understand, I can’t just stop production," he stutters. I chuckle aloud at him, cocking my gun and pressing the steel against his forehead.

“Why not Paul?” I hiss. He swallows and lets out a shaky breath.

“The moves have already been made, people are making shipments to the given locations,” he says.

I stand in my seat.

“You know, I like you, Paul. I do. But it seems that you are confused about the way things work around here. So let me refresh your memory.”

* * * * *

My place of solace. My getaway. My piece of heaven. Where I can be me and no one can judge me. My shed.

We were currently underneath it, in my personal torture area, with a naked Paul tied to the chair. It was easy getting him in here after I knocked him out and stuffed him in the trunk of my car. I had a secret door in the garage that had a passageway that lead to the shed.

After I got Paul situated, I went through the house to find Rue fast asleep with one of my shirts on.

Paul is currently in front of me with his eye swollen shut, and he has a little blood on him from my attacks. I turn away from him, walking to my shelf with power tools, grabbing the drill.

“Look, Paul. I haven’t got a lot of time. See Rue’s sleeping pattern is off lately because of everything that’s been going on. So I don’t know when she’ll wake up, and I want to try and be there when she does. So we can resolve things," I say as I switch the drill head to a skinny one. I walk over to Paul, taking a seat in front of him.

“I mean, I know I lied to her about everything, but she told me that she loved me you know? So I dunno... I thought that maybe she would see past this and love me for me.” I test the battery power on the drill and smile when it turns on at full blast. I look at Paul and he’s staring at me wide-eyed, moaning loudly underneath the duct tape.

“Doesn’t that make sense Paul? Where could I have gone wrong? Now she’s terrified of me, and refuses to even look at me you know? I always told her, I would never hurt her. But now she looks at me like she doesn’t know anymore,” I say looking at Paul.

“What do you think?” I ask.

“MMMMMM!!!! MMMM!!! MMMMM!” I chuckle at Paul's attempt to respond.

“Well, let me explain something to you, Paul.” I stand walking towards the corner of the room and turning on the light illuminating the area. Paul's eyes widen as he takes in all the mason jars filled with blood. I had about 5 large shelves, filled with mason jars.

“I like you, Paul. You’re easy to talk to. But unfortunately for you, Vitale doesn’t. So let’s make this easy for the both of us.” I walk over to him, with the drill standing over his body. I take the empty mason jar that now has his name on it, setting it close to his feet.

“I’m going to need those drop-off locations along with your suppliers if you don’t want to be just another confirmed kill in a jar on my wall,” I say.