Page 23 of Monster's Edge
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Why Patricia wouldhave a husband, I don’t know. I realize that most people get married. Most people choose to find a partner they can love and talk to, but the fact that she’s here with my dad says a lot about the state of her marriage. Apparently, her husband didn’t get the message because he’s causing a big stink.
Slipping through the bustling crowd, which somehow hasn’t completely dispersed, I get close enough to see him and my father speaking. There are two men on the ground – my father’s security team – and they’ve both got bloody noses. Tony is here all right. He brought a few of his men, too.
I’m used to making myself invisible, so I manage to hide in the shadows as I watch the conversation unfold. My father says a few things. Tony says a few things. Then my dad nods. He waves Patricia over and gives her back to Tony.
“It’s been nice, doll,” he says. Patricia is crying, albeit silently. I wonder what’s going to happen to her. Is she going to continue being Tony’s wife? Or is he going to get rid of her after this? Cheating is a pretty big deal. Going to your enemy’s party is an even bigger deal. I bet Tony is more upset that she’s here with my dad than that she’s been sleeping with him, but who am I to make that judgment?
As Tony and his people leave, my father turns to Ian.
“Don’t fuck with my daughter,” Dad says. So he knows. He realizes that something went down between me and Ian, but Ian only cocks his head.
“She’s not off-limits, Marco. She’s nearly 30.”
I am. Only a few years and I’ll be crossing that threshold. It’s at 30 that people expect you to start making all of these big decisions. They want you to get married and have kids and buy a house. These are all things I might do someday, but that I don’t really want to do now. I don’t even really want to be thinking about those things.
“She’s my daughter. Children are always off-limits. You know this.”
The crowd has grown even thinner. Nobody is paying my dad or Ian any mind, so Ian isn’t afraid to lean close to my father and whisper. “She’s not off-limits, old man. Not to me. You’ll do well to remember your place.”
Then Ian walks away from my father and vanishes into the crowd. I stay where I am, slightly terrified and completely shocked. Nobody has ever talked to my dad like that and lived. Nobody I know about, anyway. Who the hellisIan? Really? Who is he that he’ssocomfortable talking to my father like Dad is a piece of shit?
It’s not until later, hours after the party is over and I’m tucked safe and sound in my bed for the night, that I allow myself to wonder what’s going to happen next with Ian. I didn’t see him the rest of the night, but that’s a good thing. I don’t want to see him again. I don’t.
The problem is that my body craves what he offered me.
Punishment.
Torture.
Pain.
I’m twisted and messed-up. I get that. Most people don’t have the fantasies or the problems that I have. Most people are normal. They like things like hugging and kissing and making out with their boyfriends. They don’t like to have men choking them until they cry. They don’t love the idea of being tied up and hurt.
My body aches as I lie in my bed. I already took a shower, but I can still feel him on my body. I remember every kiss, every flick, every nip. I remember the slapping. I remember the way his hands wrapped so perfectly around my throat and the problem isn’t that I can’t forget – the problem is that I don’t want to.
I silently promise myself that I’ll remember.
And then I fall asleep.
*
MY FATHER DOESN’T SAYanything about the party.
The next day, he avoids me completely. The day after that is much of the same. Before I know what’s happened, two weeks have passed, and my dad and I have barely talked. This in and of itself is hardly unusual. He’s a busy man and I’m occupied with my own endeavors. In addition to dancing as much as I can, I have a job.
I used to work for my father, but that proved to be too stressful. My father tends to be a bit overbearing, so now I work at an animal shelter close to the house. It’s the only place I’m allowed to go without direct supervision, and even that isn’t entirely true. I’m pretty sure that two of the shelter employees work for my dad.
Both Lorenzo and Ricardo look familiar to me, but we all silently agree not to talk about the elephant in the room. If my father sent them here to keep an eye on me, then drawing attention to them is only going to make the situation harder. If I out them as being mob guys, then my dad will just replace them with some other guys. These ones are fine. They leave me alone and I pay them the same respect.
I’m not going to lie, though. The idea of two guys who work with my father also scooping litter at the shelter is kind of funny. I’m by no means a manager and the pay here is absolute shit for anyone who isn’t, but it’s something that’s mine. Sort of. I know that it can be taken away at any moment.
I’m in the middle of filling out adoption paperwork for a new client when the front door opens. I look up, shocked to see Ian. Why is he here? What’s he doing? I glance over at the little girl waiting anxiously by the counter. She’s here with her mom. The two of them are getting ready to adopt a cat – Batman – who has been living at the shelter for the past year. He’s a good, old cat and he’ll be happy at their home.
