My breath makes little puffs in the night air as I exit the car. It’s that time of year in New Orleans, the time when one day it’s summer-like and the next it’s freezing cold. I do up another button on my black peacoat as one of the bodyguards leads me into what looks like an abandoned warehouse.

All around me, there is crumbling cement and the remnants of colorful gang tags. While the floors and the walls of the warehouse seem intact, the ceiling definitely isn’t. I can see bright stars through it.

This place definitely hasn’t been touched since Hurricane Katrina.

“Are you sure he wants me to be here?” I ask the bodyguard, looking around. “I really should get back to my brother…”

The bodyguard just shrugs and opens a faded blue metal door. “Ask him yourself.”

That answer sets my teeth on edge. Heading through the doorway, I find two figures in a big room. One is handcuffed and sagging in a metal folding chair, probably unconscious.

The other is Monster, looking dapper as usual in his black button-down shirt and black trousers. He smiles thinly in greeting.

I glance from him to the unconscious man, puzzled.

“That’ll be all we’ll need,” Monster says to the bodyguard. I glance behind me to see the metal door swinging shut.

Something isn’t right here. Unconsciously, I hug myself. “What’s going on, Monster?”

He gestures to the unconscious man. “This is John. John sells heroin. He’s a street-level dealer, but he’s also a pimp.”

I eye John, but he’s been roughed up, so it’s kind of impossible to tell much about him beyond his bruised face. Monster pulls out his cell phone and holds it out to me, stalking over to show me the screen.

I wince as I glance at it. It’s a photo of a woman, stripped naked and beaten so badly that she’s beyond recognition. My heart twists.

“Jesus.” The word is yanked out of me, hanging in the air between the two of us.

He puts his phone back in his pocket, the same creepy smile ghosting across his lips.

“On top of being a piece of shit who beats women, John stole from me. I’m the new boss, so this man thought he would play his cards right and ride for free.” He cracks his knuckles. “I want to make an example of John so that everybody else knows exactly what to expect.”

My brows knit. “You’re going to hurt him?”

He shrugs a shoulder. “Maybe. Or kill him, I haven’t really fully decided which.”

My eyes go to John, who is stirring a little, just beginning to move his head. “Monster, you can’t.”

He paces away, back to John. “I think you’ll find I’m capable of it. Violence is my specialty, after all.”

Monster glances at me, a blasé look on his face. He produces a switchblade, flipping it open. Then he casually stabs the blade right into John’s kneecap. John comes fully awake in half a second, screaming bloody murder.

Monster’s face is perfectly neutral as John screams. He just waits for a minute, for John’s screams to quiet down. The whole entire time, he makes eye contact with me.

I lick my lips, anxiously looking back at Monster. “Why am I here, Monster?”

A little sneer is on his lips. “So that you know. So that you can’t say that you weren’t aware.”

“Aware of what?” I say, my gaze straying to John. John has stopped screaming; now he’s just crying and whimpering and mumbling.

Monster reaches down and twists the blade in John’s leg, renewing the screams. A sick smile plays on his lips. “Of what I am. Of how I do business. All of this is good to know, I’m afraid. See, I’m thinking about not killing you. I’m thinking of keeping you, making you mine. But when I get old and feeble… they’ll come for you. They’ll come to you and demand your head. And I just want to make sure that you won’t say that you were innocent. I want you to make a choice.”

His words floor me. My jaw drops. “Monster—”

“Uh-uh,” he says, shaking his head. “You’re not ready to answer. First, you have to watch me work over this guy. Maybe even join in, if you feel like it. Then, and only then, you can formulate a response.”

I begin to tremble. “Monster, no. I’ll never help you hurt someone.”

“Even though John here put four of his girls in the hospital last year?” he asks, sticking his hands in his pockets and canting his head.

That gives me pause. I look at John, whose screams have subsided. “Is that true, John?”

John’s face is terrified. “N—no…” he whispers, a little fresh blood running out of his cracked lower lip. “Please, Miss…”

Monster reaches out and yanks the blade out of John’s kneecap. He turns to the handcuffed man, ignoring his writhing discomfort, and holds the still-dripping knife in from of his face. “John, if you lie to her again, I swear I will put this through your eye. Nod so I believe you heard me.”

John slumps, which could possibly be a nod. Monster turns to me. “What do I have to tell you to convince you that John is not worth anything?” He looks at John. “Maybe I should tell her about the overdoses, eh, John?”

John’s face becomes more withdrawn. He has nothing to say about that. Monster grins.

“It seems like John here decided to lace his heroin with Fentanyl, making it a thousand times more potent and deadlier. And cheaper, isn't that right, John? Much, much cheaper. The body count on this batch alone is already sixteen. Sixteen people who were living, who were breathing, that are now dead. All thanks to our boy John!” Monster claps John on the shoulder so forcefully that John’s not-insubstantial body crumples.

Sixteen people. My eyes widen and my heart races. I stare at John, who seems to think that if he just slumps over, we may forget that he’s here.

“Do I need to get pictures of the children of the addicts out, or are you convinced?” Monster says.

I glance at Monster. He is right, John needs to have an example made of him. My feet have gone numb as I shift in place. “How… how do I know that you’re telling me the truth?”

Monster cocks his head. “Have you ever known me to lie?”

Slowly, I shake my head. “No.”

Monster wipes the switchblade on his pants, flipping it closed. He places it on John’s lap, then strolls over to me. He catches my hand and pulls me in close.

Tucked against his much bigger body, heart in my throat, I look up at him. I scan his face, looking for traces of deception. My breath is warm in the cold October air, billowing out of my nose delicately.

“I’m telling you to believe me,” he utters, catching me in his silvery gaze. Monster reaches up and cups my face. “Do you?”

His lips are too close. I lick my own lips are I look at his, suddenly feeling thirsty.

God help me, but I do believe Monster. I really do. Slowly, I nod.

“Yes,” I whisper. “He must be punished for what he’s done.”

His lips tip upward, his arms closing around me, pulling me in tighter. “That’s all you have to say. Should I kill him?”

I hesitate, looking at John. John stares at me with pleading eyes. My insides gurgle. A tear breaks loose and tracks down the side of my face, taking me by surprise.

“I don’t know,” I say softly. “I just… I know that he has to be punished. For those women. For the addicts, too.”

Monster looks down at me. He kisses me, his lips hard and demanding. I kiss him back, still crying, my tongue sliding against his.

When he lets me go and steps back, I’m a little breathless.

“Just remember,” he says, turning back to John. “You chose this. You knew. You had an alternative.”

I don’t know if he’s talking to me or to John. John starts crying again. My stomach gurgles again. I’m certain that if I stay, if I witness the brutality that Monster is about to commit, something deep inside me will change.

“Do I have to stay?” I ask, my breath leaving my mouth in a visible puff.

Monster just shakes his head, looking at John. “No. I think you’ve done enough.”

I turn and scurry out of the room, running once I get out of the warehouse. The guard is there waiting, leaning against the hood of the SUV. He raises his brows in a question. “Are you done?”

“Yes,” I say, tears still fresh in my eyes. “Take me home, please.”

As the guard opens the back door of the SUV, a scream splits the air. Monster is at work.

I slide into the car and close my eyes.