Page 7 of Reaper

Hellhound ran into the room to check on the woman, but I didn’t care. What was just play turned into madness.

She touched me.

Nobody fucking touched me and lived.

She knew that.

She signed a fucking contract that explicitly stated that shit in bold fucking letters.

What the fuck!

“Reaper, man, you gotta calm down!” a brother shouted at me.

“Get off me!” I thundered, fighting their hold.

“We will. As soon as you calm down, man.”

“Fuck,” another brother shouted. “He’s frothing at the fucking mouth!”

“He is out of control, Savage. We need Healer to sedate him.”

“No, Healer said that wouldn’t work anymore. Besides, it makes him angrier. No. We wait till Hellhound gets her out of here, and then we run.”

“He’s going to fucking fuck us up big time.”

“At least he didn’t almost kill this one.”

“No, he just fucking rearranged her face!”

“I’ve got her,” Hellhound stated, helping her to her feet. “Just a broken nose, I think. I’ll get Healer to check her out before I send her home.”

“I’m really sorry, Reaper. I shouldn’t have done it,” the woman said, holding a towel to her face.

I didn’t give a shit.

She broke the fucking rules. I roared, “Get the fuck out and never come back!”

“Let’s go honey. I’ll get Healer to clean you up and call you a cab.” Hellhound soothed as he led her from my room. When she was gone, my brothers released me and stepped back, way back, allowing me to fix my jeans and get to my feet.

“You okay, man?” Chaos asked.

“Get the fuck out!”

With that, they left, closing the door behind them. Sitting on my bed, I placed my head in my hands and tried to quell the rising demon within myself.

I did it again. I hit a woman. A woman who volunteered her services just so I could get off.

Fuck!

What kind of monster was I?

When my father was still alive, he helped me to control the demon. He knew when I needed release, and he made sure I got it. Whether it was a woman or fighting, bare fist. Both caused me pain, but I endured because it helped. I couldn’t stand anyone touching me. Hell, I didn’t even shake hands. I slept alone, always. I distanced myself from my brothers and mother. Everyone was cut off, all but my father.

Now, he’s dead, and I’m alone to fight the monster within me.

I can’t do it anymore.

Every time I get near someone, I tense and want to fight my way free. That isn’t any way to live. My brothers have been understanding, though only two really know what’s going on. The others think I’m just the meanest son of a bitch around. They don’t fuck with me, and they steer clear.