Chapter 30

Beast

The lights were on and she wasn’t out here, greeting them. Jena was scared to death about the job they had to do tonight, even if she didn’t even know what it was.

She was strong though, she understood this is what they did. But she was worried to death.

If she was awake —and surely she probably would have been— Jena would already be out here, running to their arms. That was the first clue.

The second was even more obvious. The boss hadn’t contacted them all evening. Not even a message to see how shit went.

They didn’t connect the dots until they were here. Of course something was going on.

The final nail on the coffin was Mills’ call.

“Jena?” He said out loud.

The air was deathly still. As soon as he was inside the house, its warmth bathed his body but it wasn’t welcoming. It was like entering the gates of hell.

The cold grip of his .45 felt like the only link he had with the world of the living.

How would Roberto Caronte react? Would he put a bullet in his head, no questions asked, or did he need an explanation?

“I know you’re here, boss,” he said calmly, his deep voice echoing in the empty house.

“Well, what are you waiting for, Beast?” The boss replied from the kitchen.

The gun was pointed downward, but steady, always steady.

“Jena, are you there?”

“Come here, dear boy,” Caronte said, “let’s make this quick.”

Beast approached the door to the kitchen. He peeked inside, a quick peek, enough to see who was in there.

His boss stood behind the kitchen’s island, to his left, looking straight at the door, was Henry, a younger kid who wanted to be a thug.

He’d always been too into fashion, the red scarf around his neck a testament of it.

He heard his woman. Her muffled yells to the right, someone or something prevented her from speaking out.

Red-hot anger rose inside of him, he wanted —no, needed— to kill anyone who harmed hre. But he was a professional, raw instinct was not meant for a place like this.

Not now, at least.

“Come in, you dumb fuck,” Henry said, “you thought you could get away with this?”

“Roberto,” Beast said, “let her leave. This is between us.”

“Are you going to keep hiding, or are you going to say it to my face?”

Jena moaned again, he could hear her frantically crying. At least she was alive.

He stepped into the doorway and was greeted by three men pointing their guns at him.

Jena stood on the corner to his right, behind Peter, who pressed his hand hard against her mouth. She was covered in bruises, her left eye swollen and blue, her clothes ripped in several places, full of bloodstains and dried dirt.

He could die at any moment, no problem, he had been in peace with that for a long time. But this was different. Mills and himself were responsible for this. They should have put her on a bus or plane and given her money and that was it, she would have been safe.

But no. You had to make her stay.

For the first time in his life, he felt his heart breaking. It was an empty feeling, like a cold fist squeezing his heart as hard as possible. His eyes shone with regret.

It felt as if his soul left his body, leaving him behind, alive but empty, a damaged shell that served no purpose but to bring pain upon people.

“Evening, old friend,” Beast said to the old man.

He could kill him right now. It was just a matter or raising his gun to him and pressing the trigger. But even if he got him, she would probably die in the crossfire.

“Drop your weapon,” mister Caronte ordered.

He didn’t hesitate, he dropped the gun and kicked it toward Henry.

“Where the hell is Mills?”

“He’s not part of this.”

“That’s not what she told us.”

He eyed Jena for half a second, her eyes went wide and tried to say something but couldn’t.

Holy hell, Jena. You didn’t tell them anything, did you? Not even here. We don’t deserve you.

“She lied, then.”

Henry flinched.

“Stop fucking around,” he said, “you’re always together.”

“I even thought you were faggots,” Peter spat with a laugh. That’s when Beast saw him —really saw him— for the first time.

His face was fucked, his nose broken, front teeth missing. Did he get beat up by a gang or—

The sudden realization of what must have happened made him smile.

“Jena,” Beast said, calmly, “you shouldn’t have fucked Peter up like that, he’s always trying to prove he’s a man, even though he’s secretly gay.”

The boss and Henry chuckled, Peter went red with anger and pointed his gun at Beast, instead of Jena’s head.

“You shut the fuck up!” he yelled, “I’m gonna kill you mother—”

The cabinets beside him exploded, suddenly painted with blood. Peter’s eyes went blank in an instant, his body limp and lifeless. The sound of another explosion filled the room.

Henry jumped back, full of fear, looking at the big windows behind him.

Roberto Caronte dived instantly, Beast leaped toward Henry, bringing him to the floor. Boss Caronte crawled behind the island as fast as he could, bullets wheezing just above him.

He pointed his gun outside and—

Henry’s gun fired one, two times. Beast was careful to push it away, he didn’t want a stray bullet hitting the love of his life.

He punched his neck but the God damned scarf cushioned his blow. Focus.

Beast kept crashing Henry’s hand against the floor until he dropped the gun, then raised both hands to give him the final blow, but Henry kneed him in the groin.

He bent forward, falling over Henry. Adrenaline surged through his body, someone was yelling something, but he couldn’t make out the words.

Gunfire surrounded him, boss Caronte shot at Mills outside.

Henry tried to grab Beast’s weapon, just a few inches away from them, but his reflexes were too sharp, Beast kicked it away to the main hall.

He heard the click of an empty gun on the other side of the kitchen.

“He’s out of bullets, Mills!”

Henry hit him twice, on the chin and nose. The kid was strong and sure of himself, if he was anyone else, he would have been knocked out by now.

An elbow to his face. Shit.

Boss Caronte, on the other side of the room, struggled to reload his gun with just one hand.

Henry stood and ran to the doorway. He’s trying to get my gun. What a fucking asshole.

Beast grabbed his right foot mid-air and threw him off balance. The glass window shattered behind him, it was Mills, finally coming inside.

It was about time.

He stood up just as the orange tint of gunfire filled the room around him. Mills shooting at the man on the floor, the man shooting back at him.

Henry lurched himself forward to grab the gun, but Beast caught him and jumped on his back, preventing him from getting it.

It was two inches away, he needed to do something.

He grabbed the scarf and pulled as hard as he could. Henry’s hands instantly went to his throat. Then, in a moment of clarity, shot forward to grab the gun. Beast had to keep going, if he changed his mind now, he would surely die.

Finish the God damned job.

Henry grabbed the weapon, and pointed it behind him as best as he could. Beast jerked to the side and avoided the bullet, it’s wheezing noise filling his ears.

Too close.

He tightened the scarf so hard the fabric began to make ripping noises. Henry tried to shoot again but there was no more strength in him, he kept struggling for air, his face bright red, until the gun fell from his hands.

He was dead.

To his left was Jena, curled up in the corner, shaking with fear, hiding her face with in her hands, her whimpers the only thing that hurt him more than a bullet ever could.

“Jena?” He whispered.

Someone grunted on the opposite corner of the room. It was Mills, he sat there, with his back on the wall, staring at him.

“He got me,” Mills quipped, “is she all right?”

“Jena?” Beast asked again, his voice breaking.

Jena kept crying. She was shaking, unable to respond. She’s having a panic attack. Beast would never forget her frantic cries. They would stay with him, like a thorn in his heart, for the rest of his life.

He placed his arms around her, the dead body of Peter lied by her side. She was in shock. No one should ever have go through this.

“Jena, are you hurt? It’s me, Sebastian.”

She kept crying for a few seconds longer, then stopped breathing, her skin broke out with goose bumps.

Her breathing began to normalize, her fear washing away, until she raised her eyes to him.

“What did you say?”

“Are you hurt?”

“No, after that.”

He saw it now. She’d been spared. The bullets didn’t touch her. She’ll live. His heart raced faster than ever before. Happiness overwhelmed him until tears flooded his eyes, but he was strong, he would not let them out.

“I said it’s me, Sebastian.”

She smiled, a miraculous smile, like a message from Heaven, a sign that she would be all right.

“Sebastian,” she said and caressed his jaw, “that’s a beautiful name.”

“Beast?” Mills asked from across the room.

“She’s fine, David,” he said, “she’s fine.”