Unbeautiful
Page 33

 Jessica Sorensen

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“Please?” Doc spits out as he paces to the side of the man, grasping his gun, his eyes wild like he’s out of his mind. “Is that what my son said when he came to you for drugs?”
The man lets out a choking sound. “I tried not to give him any... but... he... wouldn’t... take... no for an answer.”
Doc’s expression burns with fury. “So a druggie comes to you, and you just crumble when you know the consequences for selling him drugs? God, you’re as weak and pathetic as my son.” He kicks him in the side, and the guy wails in pain. “Maybe even more so since you knew what would happen. My son didn’t have a clear head.”
“I’m sorry,” the man moans, rolling to his side.
Doc crouches down, grabs his shirt, and forces the man to look at him. “You’re sorry! My son is in a coma, and you’re sorry!” he shouts in his face. “Do you know how hard I searched for the person who sold him the drugs? How much I was hoping it wasn’t one of my own? And then to find out it was you, Ivan. A person I let into my home, who spent time with my family. Who knew about my son’s struggles.”
“Please, don’t tell Elderman,” he begs. “He’ll kill me if he finds out I was dealing to family members in his circle.”
Doc laughs, a chilling, hollow laugh. “Too late. I told him this morning that I found out it was you.” He leans closer and his lips curve into an eerie grin as the man starts to sob. “But don’t worry; he’s not going to kill you.” Then he stands up straight and points the gun at the man. “I am.”
I rush forward, opening my mouth to yell stop out of pure instinct. No sound leaves my throat, though, as the gun fires. Blood sprays everywhere like rain and splatters across my shirt and face. For a moment, I’m thrown back into the memory of Ben and what I did to him after he beat Aura.
Doc lowers the gun and stares at the man he just shot. “See, regret eliminated.” When he looks at me, I see blood painting his face. His expression is that of a madman. “Welcome to hell, Ryler, a place where the evil thrive and the weak die. This man was weak. My son was weak. And now they’re both paying for their sins.”
Having no idea how to react, I just stand there, staring at the gory scene, the scene I helped cause.
Doc snatches a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his face off. Then he throws it to me. “Clean yourself up.”
I rub my face with the cloth, noting how bad my hands are shaking. I just hope Doc doesn’t notice my fear; otherwise, he might question why I’m in this world in the first place.
I follow him back to the car and get into the passenger seat while he climbs into the driver’s side. He sends out a text before turning the car around and driving back toward the freeway.
“I’m not a monster,” he abruptly tells me as he drives up the ramp. “That man back there dealt to my son who’s suffered from an unfortunate heroin addiction since he was fourteen-years-old. He’s almost died twice, and my wife and I have tried everything we could to help him, but no matter what treatment he goes through, he always goes back to his habit within days. Every single one of my men knows not to deal to him. Ivan knew what he was doing, knew he was harming my son when he sold him the drugs, yet he still did it. He chose to harm my family, and I had to make sure he paid for his sins, just like I made sure my son paid for his. It’s what I have to do, Ryler; otherwise, the people in my life will do what they want.”
Unsure what he wants from me, I nod, which seems to satisfy him.
He focuses back on driving down the desolate freeway, listening to his music while I work to remain calm. But by the time he drops me off at my car, I’ve reached a state of shock.
“Ryler, if you keep going the way you are,” Doc says as I climb out of the car, “then you’ll do just fine in this world. You have the gift of silence, something a lot of people take for granted. But you, you see things and don’t have to speak of them.”
I swallow the lump in my throat, understanding his message. Keep your mouth shut about what happened tonight, and you’ll be fine.
I’ve seen a lot of rough shit in my time. Aura almost beaten to death was one of the worst, but I tried to stop that from happening, stepped in to fight. Tonight, I did nothing except watch. I even helped in the chase.
I’m not any better than Doc.
I try not to think about what happened, try not to let that horrible time creep into my mind, but the memory strikes me hard—the time I spent in juvie. How I got there. The blood that painted my knuckles as I was cuffed and driven down to the station. How no one would help me, even the people I cared for. No one would tell the truth.
I force the thought out of my mind. No, I won’t go there. Never again. I refuse to dwell in the past.
I hop into my Challenger and drive away from the bar, Doc, this night. By the time I arrive at my apartment, shock has possessed my body. My teeth chatter and my body shakes as I trudge up the stairs, slip quietly into the apartment, and hurry to the bathroom to take a shower and wash the blood off me.
I scrub my skin so roughly I start to bleed. The sight of the red pooling out of my skin is the final straw that sends me over the edge. I crumble onto the bathtub floor and start to cry.
I can’t do this anymore.
I can’t be this person.
I can’t be okay with watching death come by the hands of another.
By the time I get out of the shower, my body aches and my mind is exhausted. I still have to do one more thing before I pass out, though. I grab my personal phone and text Stale.