CHAPTER 15

Dario's POV

                Ever just look at someone and think, "this motherfucker is gonna be the reason I go to jail?". People are so ungrateful. No-one ever thanks me for having the patience not to kill them. I'm gonna be so damn busy in the afterlife. The list of people I'm gonna haunt grows everyday.

See, I care deeply about exactly three people in my life and about five hundred to seven hundred dogs on the internet I have never met. You've dug it out yet? No? It's that simple. Idiots causes stress. Stress causes depression. That fucker gives way for physical ailments and in fucking conclusion, stupid people make me sick.

Standing in front of this imbecile and listening to the garbage falling out of his mouth just makes me wanna hold his head under water, maybe then he could gaggle his words and swallow them back but that would be doing more harm to me than good.

I just finished dealing with a wanker moments ago who totally and absolutely deserved what came to him and I ain't prepared for this. I look at him and wonder where he gets his stupidity from. Arguing with idiots is like playing chess with a pigeon. No matter how good you are, the bird is still gonna shit on the board and strut around like it won anyway.

He jabbed me in the chest, spitting garbage, riling me up, making me think of all the things I wanna do to him and trust me when I say they ain't pretty.

            "That was so fucking unneccessary and you know it. C'mon man, what the hell is wrong with you? Beating up a kid like that? That's fucking crazy."

Just because I cuss doesn't fucking mean I don't have manners. I say, "please" when I tell someone to fuck off. I hate it when people tell me cussing ain't necessary. I am fucking vulgar not stupid and I know it ain't necessary but it is so damn satisfying.

             "What you did out there man? That was shit. Why the fuck do you like stepping all over everyone? Do you know how much of a bully you are?"

             "No shit. I'm gonna file your opinions right here between, 'fuck this' and 'fuck this'. I stretched my lips, looking him dead in the eyes and so fucking pleased to see the fury dancing within them.

Moisture exuded through the pores of my skin, scorching, blistering, stinging. In reply, my muscles grew taut in weak response to the pain. A migrane struck, holding me captive. I was utterly helpless in its cage. It throbbed so violently around my skull that I wondered why it didn't just crack open.

It was like nettle rash on my skin, hot and intensely itchy.

I gritted out, "Get out of my way." At the moment, I only envied the bed and furnitures caged up in the comforts of my room. They had what I so damn wanted.

              "Why, eh? You don't wanna hear the truth? You want no one spitting you the truth about your motherfucking self? If no one's gonna say it to your damn face. If your buddy here can't spit out what you really should know then bro." He paused. I cocked a brow at his last word. Really? Bro? Why didn't any fucking body tell me we were?, "Permit me to fucking say it. You're an egoistic bastard. A piece of shit always tryna play god over every body when you...."

               "Ian. Don't. Cut it out."

               "No." I shunned Keegan. "I'd like to see him go on. Let him keep on barking like the damn dog that he is." My eyes narrowed at the man taunting me. A cruel sneer formed on his face and he leaned forward, bearing his eyes into mine. The corner of my lips twitched in amusement, watching the idiot. You know I noticed one thing. Once you let a motherfucker slide, they start to think they can iceskate.

I canted my head, "Do you have a problem with me?" He did. He has always. I didn't need a confirmation to get the facts right but I'd have to say he'd be miserable waiting for the fucks I don't have to give. "Fuck that, I know you do. Then, bro." I emphasized. "Call me. If you don't have my number, then that could only mean you do not know me well enough to have a problem and of course, I do not give it out to dumbasses."

              "Fuck you."

              "I'm fucking straight. Goddamn it." Fingers grazing on my lower lip, anger elevating. "You wanna do this? You really wanna do this? Jeez, do you really think me stupid? You thought I wouldn't know? You really thought I wouldn't find out?"

His goddamn face contorted. You know the face people make when they try to act stupid. When they make a vein attempt in pretending like they've got no clue what the fuck you're talking about when the odds were all against them.

               "I don't know what you're talking about."

I snickered, mocking. "Oh really? You don't mean it."

              "You're full of shit. I won't be surprised if your shitting again."

              "Cool. Tell me what you want. Tell me how you'd rather take it. Pictures, videos, audios of your damn conversations with her. C'mon bro. Tell me and let's know who the shitty one is around here."

               "What you two talking about?" I glanced at Keegan and right back at the motherfucker standing in my face. "What's all this about?"

               "You thought I wouldn't know you were fucking her behind my back, you piece of shit? Last night at the party, she came on to me and then, you showed up seconds later asking for a fucking drive we both know you'd never use. Do you really take me for a fool? It's not the lie that bothers me though. It's the insult to my intelligence that I find so damn offensive. What the hell do you take me for?" His eyes widened for a second before slitting in anger, keeping mute.

Now the silence. Now, the damn silence. He was fucking giving me the silence. Why didn't he when he was running his mouth like a tap? He be looking at me like the dumbass he was. No shit, why do people say, "grow some balls?" They are so damn weak and sensitive. If you wanna be tough, grow a fucking vagina. Those things can take a pounding.

              "You can't talk now, eh? Just now, you were overflowing with garbage. How does it feel when I put you in your rightful place - right under my foot. You know." I paused, making sure he was looking me dead in the eyes before going on. "The first time we met...I mean you and I...when we were fourteen years old...that night Keegan introduced the two of us. I already knew. I already knew who you were inside out." His brow wrinkled.

              "Let me let you in on a little secret, yeah? I've got a tendency to detect weird vibes, bad energy and sneaky shit. I never expected more from you to be honest. No matter how low I lower the bar of expectations, you always - always manage to roll right under it. I might be quiet and shit but don't you ever. I repeat don't you ever think you could play me for a fool or I'll show you a fucking mirror, you dipshit and one more thing..." I leaned in, voice on a whisper. "I don't play god. I am fucking god."

I turned to leave, vexed and enraged. Who the fuck does he think he is? I avoid shit like this because I'm afraid of me, not you. My temper goes from zero to prison real fast. The more I get to know certain people, the more I understand why Noah only let animals board the ark.

The moment he detached the label, 'dumb' off him, I stalled, "You couldn't keep her with your dick and that's why she came for mine and I made so damn sure she came on it every fucking day and night."

               "No shit. A slut would always remain a slut and you can't do shit about it."

               "Dario, stop. You don't get to say that."

I tuned out Keegan for a moment, needing to get the words out and he knew. He knew. Once I snapped, there was no calling me back. "And that's why when she's riding your cock, you should always keep in mind she's fucking hundreds all in the same season." I took a step further and stalled again. "And for the record, I know to think before I act so if smack the shit out of you, rest assured I've thought about it and I'm confident in my decision. All the cocaine in the world and your nose is still in my business. Maybe if you snucked it somewhere else, you'd know the guy you called a kid sits three seats behind you in psychology class. Stupid."

I jogged the stairs and bashed into my space, going straight for the bathroom. Once in, I tugged a new blade out, positioning the edge on my wrist and then I started. I got caught in the rhythm of stroking my skin harshly with the sharp edge. I couldn't stop. I could see it getting red. I could see the blood oozing out slowly out of the wound and into the ceramic basin. I kept going still. Quitting ain't for me. I am too far gone. Too in deep.

Striking my skin harder, faster. It wasn't me in control anymore. I could feel it pulsing. It was starting to swell. Redder and redder it got, more and more blood flowing like a goddamn river. And yet, I went on. Striking, slashing, cutting, harsher strokes still, the wound was widening now. I'm an outsider in my own body, watching these hands that are no longer mine tarnish my body. Suddenly, I froze.

I closed my eyes. I hadn't noticed I was breathing so hard. I slowly reopened them, letting them drop on the object laying in my hand, with a new reddish tint. Then to my fingers, bloodied. And finally towards the new cut. It was messy; red and throbbing, an inch long in length and about four centimeters wide. My lost feelings begun returning with the pain pulsing from new the incision in my body coupled with the burns and itching thrice as painful. I fixed myself up and rolled down my sleeves, exiting the bathroom to find

Keegan leaning by the wall adjacent to my bed, head bent, leg propped up on the wall.

Sensing my presence, his head snapped up. He shot his phone straight at me, "Mother wants to speak with you."

Fuck. I inhaled deeply, squeezing my eyes shut. I grasped it from his hands, clearing my throat, "Katherina?"

At an instant, her cheery voice came through the speakers so loud I had to pull the phone away, "Dario, my pretty boy. How have you been? Why haven't you called? I've been expecting you to ring my phone for so long son. Are you okay? Did you get into trouble? Son, please tell me you're doing fine. I have been so worried...."

                "Hey, hey. I'm good. I'm fine. There's nothing serious going on."

                "Then why haven't you called, boy. Don't you miss me?"

The guilt was like gasoline in my guts. I took in a breath and cleared my throat again. "I have been busy?" I spat the words out like a question but soon realized I was only questioning myself.

              "You're sure?"

I nodded but soon spoke, realizing she couldn't see me, "Yes Katherina. I am."

              "So tell me, what have you been busy with?"

Fuck. "With...with stuffs. I'm kind of...."

               "Like your birthday?"

What? I dug my phone and scanned through the calender. Damn.

               "Son, it's coming so fast. Soon, we will be celebrating." Her obvious excitement messed with my head a little bit. "So tell me. What do you want my pretty boy? How would you want it to be? Do you want it big or just okay or you want...I've got it. Let's make it a splendour. It's going to be glamourous. Let's make it..."

             "I'm not a boy anymore Katherina and I could care less about my birthday. You know I don't do that type of shit."

              "What?" She screeched. I winced, pulling the phone away. "How could you even say that, Dario? Birthdays are a blessing, son. A day to remember. To be thankful. For life. You survived another year. Not everyone can say that. That's something. Don't say that again, you hear me? You're turning twenty two. Do you know how many people below your age die everyday. I'm a doctor and a renowned one at that. I know what I am talking about, pretty boy. Don't you ever say that again. Do you understand me?"

              "Mmmnnn."

              "Pretty boy."

              "Yeah."

              "Dario."

              "Fuck. Yes."

              "Mind your language, son."

              "In six months. There's no need for the rush."

              "We have to make sure we get everything ready and prepared. We can't afford to live anything behind. Like I had already stated. You're turning twenty two and that's big. You are no more a little boy. You're growing up so fast my pretty boy. I remember when you were just fourteen. So little and too matured for such a small boy. Sweet and innocent kid who thought the whole world was against him but look at you now. Sweetheart, I'm so proud."

That was where she got it all wrong. I am anything but sweet and innocent but she never understood. She never wanted to. In her eyes, I was the perfect son. The one who needed more love and attention. I was the one who needed to be looked out for. I was the kid that needing saving. They just never grasped that I ain't here to fit into their world. I am here to make mine.

                "I knew I would end up loving you. So much."

The breathe left me. I became choked up, feeling the depth of her words. I always - always tried to avoid this...avoid talking to her because of this. No matter how many times she said that to me, it always had its effect from the very beginning. She was just like my....

                "How about you and..."

                "We ain't together anymore." She screeched again. I mentally cursed.

                "And why didn't you tell me? Since when? What did this happen? And why am I just hearing this? Oh my pretty boy. You two looked so good together. You must have been very hurt."

Far from it. "Look Katherina, I've got to go. Can we...can we do this later?"

               "Son, why not? We are having your favourite for dinner. I'll send you some."

               "All the way? Really? Katherina."

               "Don't tell me you've outgrown my cooking or I'll smack your face through this phone." She feigned stern. I cracked a smile. It was unplanned, a reflex. A response to her unserious threat. I was at home with her. I was comfortable and that never happened with just anyone.

               "Daniel just came in. He sent his regards. Make out time to call me, son or I won't take it so lightly with you next time. We need to talk. You hear me?"

I murmured, "Yeah."

               "You hear me?" She voiced out, making me wince again.

               "Yeah, yeah. I heard you."

She paused, "I love you."

Like always, I stalled to hear the little beep from the other end indicating she had hung up. It clicked. The line went dead.

I turned to face Keegan, unsettling to find him still stuck in the same fucking position prior and so I hit the nail right on the head.

               "Spit it out."

He jerked, "What?"

               "What's up with you?"

His face twisted into a smile, his fucking teeth out in display and I was sole the audience.

              "I didn't knew you cared so much about me."

I snickered, "No shit. I don't. You could be dying right up in my face and I won't still call the ambulance."

He chuckled, "Wow, I've never known you to be so full of shit. What went wrong?"

I cut straight to the chase, "What's up with you?"

He shrugged, sliding his hand through the back of his neck, eyes dropping.

              "I didn't know she cheated on you with him, man. I just...Dario...I didn't know a thing."

              "You never had to know. I can deal with my own shit."

              "Still, you don't get to call her a whore though. I mean it."

              "The truth hurts. It's fucking bitter. Suck it up and deal with it. Turn the page. Next chapter. Is that what's eating you up?"

              "Yeah but not exactly."

I dug a cigarette and lit the stick, inhaling deeply, "Spill it."

               "She's got a guy. Fuck. I don't know...I just...I saw her with this other guy together glued up and shit, you know. I don't know. I don't know what to think. Damn, I can't get her out of my head, Dario. Like she's everywhere. All around me. I'm messed up, man. So damn messed up."

               "Damn, how the hell did you go from playboy to loverboy as fast as a gunshot?"

               "Fuck you."

               "Why you all wanna do that to me lately? I love women." I ducked under before he could hurl the ball at me. The tennis ball cracked loudly on the wall opposite and tumbled down, landing on the sheets, beside my head.

I chuckled, "You've got shitty aim. No shit."

               "Just like you are shit at tennis."

I snickered, "Who plays tennis nowdays? Soccer is the bomb."

He trotted over and sank down on my bed, hands tucked under his head. The silence spoke for itself. Comfortable between two brothers other than the unnecessary noise of chatter as we gazed at the ceiling, looking through our history, our gifts and future. Except, mine just wasn't guaranteed.

See, I don't like to hold things back. I don't ever try to bottle stuffs up. If there's any shit I need to tell ya, I'mma tell you straight up, regardless of how you'd feel, regardless of who you are to me. You just got to hear what I've got to say and suck it up. I just won't influence your decision or whatever shit you're thinking. As messed up as I am, I do believe in free liberty.

Without further ado, "I don't want you with her."

                I waited for it, "What?"

I turned to look at him, making so damn sure he saw I was shitting, "I said I don't want you with her."

He shot up in an instant, putting some distance, "Are you kidding?"

                 "I meant what I said."

                 "Damn, what the hell is your problem with her, huh? Why do you hate her this damn much? What did she ever do to you?"

I took a drag and puffed out, watching the flames from my breath float in the air, form a ring and fade away. I smoke for a reason. Flames burns like me. Ashes know my secrets. Every smoker has a story. So, before you open your damn mouth to tell him, "smoking kills", be in the know that something is already killing him.

You wanna know my story?

You wanna know if it's all worth it?

I bet if I told you, you'd take a fucking stick and drag with me.

I took another long drag and puffed before spitting, "I don't want you with her ain't mean you shouldn't be with her. Do whatever the hell you want. Just so you know, I don't want you with her. It's that simple."

He chuckled. Not like you think. It screamed unbelief. Directed at me. He turned, shoved his hand through his hair, the same time a growl rumbled through his chest. I know, I'm a dick. I'm an asshole. But this is me. This is who I am and if you ain't okay with it, from the bottom of my heart, please, suck my dick. Will I ever stop being a sarcastic asshole? Find out on next week's episode of, "I think the fuck not."

He wheeled around to face me, a muscle ticked right under his right eye, jaw rooted, "You know, for the first time. For the first fucking time ever, I met someone - actually met someone I became so fucking interested in from the fucking start. Someone who became all I ever thought about every second of every fucking day. A girl who I wanna start something meaningful with, a girl who is beginning to mean so much to me and you sit there and tell me I shouldn't make her mine? Because of some fucked up, stupid issue you two have got going on? Damn, are you real?"

                "God, Why do you care so much about my opinion on her?"

                "Because you are my fucking brother."

                "I told you what I felt like. If you don't get it, that's on you."

                "I've got a date with her in an hour."

                "And she's got a guy she's probably messing around with at this very minute."

                "I said I wasn't sure."

                "They are all the same."

                "She ain't like her and you know it."

Exhausted with this entire conversation, I groaned, scouring my face with my palms.

                "For fuck's sake Keegan, go do what you want. I ain't stopping you. I wasn't ever trying to. You're down for her? She's got you so damn whipped? That's cool. No shit."

He glared at me, never blinking. His gaze fell like an act of violence, a glare to stop my heart before slinking over to the door.

He paused for a moment, fingers curled, head turned, snarling,

              "Stop fucking with her. I mean it."

             "If she quits showing up everywhere I go, then I guess we've got a deal."

He left. Never looking back.

Five minutes later. Bang. The front door slammed.

I bolted up immediately and charged for the door. Pounding through the hallway, howling for the gym at the ground floor.

See, the emotional currents in me could pull a man under and drown him. The waves I surpress could break a man. The things in me could destroy people if I were reckless enough to let them out. I used to walk into a room full of people and wonder if they liked me. Now, I look around and wonder if I like them.

Let me tell you something you already know. The world ain't all sunshine and rainbows. It is a very mean and nasty place and it would beat you to your fucking knees and you, me or nobody is gonna hit so hard. Life has knocked me down more times than I can count. It has left me stranded, shown me shits I never wanted to see. I have experienced more pain than any person should. I took it as my own gift. I embodied it. I embraced it. I fucking owned it.

I have always felt like I ain't from this generation, I just live in it. Because the way my mindset differs from the majority, you'd think I'm from a different dimension altogether. You could say that's the reason I keep to myself because a lot of people won't understand me and why I'm telling you this?

You asked for my story.

And this is just the beginning.

Immediately she walked into the gym room, her cologne assaulted my nostrils. Strong and sultry with less vanilla and powder, emphasizing more on her aura. She had used the cologne for years and never stopped. Said something about bringing out her signature scent. I used to bask in it. I used to treasure it but things changed. Now, I downright revolt.

Legs spread out on my torso, tits in my face, her lips grazed mine, "Do you remember when we used to do this?" She straddled my waist. "When I used to help you work out? We used to do this together, remember?"

               "Used to. Impressive you thought to caption it in the past." I jerked. She knew what was coming. She got off before she could plunder to the ground.

Straight to the point, "What the hell are you doing here?"

She laughed. She fucking laughed. I'm actually not funny. I'm just mean and people think I am joking.

                "Why? I can't come into my house anymore?"

Is she shittng me right now? "Why the fuck are you here? If you've got nothing, the door is right behind you."

She huffed, "Fine. I miss you. That's why I'm here. Dario, c'mon. It's been a year. A whole year. Why can't we just...you know...come back together and..."

             "Never happening. Get out."

             "Dario, please. Okay, here me out. It was a mistake and it will never happen again. I promise. I promise to be good and... Why can't you just forgive and forget?"

Someone, please tell me she ain't for real right now. "Forgive and forget? I'm not Jesus and neither do I have Alzheimer's. Giving someone a second chance is like giving them an extra bullet for their fun because they fucking missed you the first time. Four years and you still haven't gotten it into your dick shrouded brain that I do not go back to my vomit."

She inhaled sharply, "Dario, you are actually speaking to me in that way?"

               "I can talk to you however the fuck I like and you can do nada about it. Now, get the hell out."

She breathed in deeply, blinking. I saw her throat bop with saliva. Then, she fucking smiled like this was some sort of reunion or make up. I wasn't expecting it. I just didn't envisioned what she did next and to be fucking honest, I didn't expect more from her.

The moment she tugged at the small rope flailing by her side, the lame piece of clothing cladding her slim body fell off and surrounded her by her feet. Naked, she stood before me and just there, her game plan turned obvious.

Her body was all soft and tanned. You see, I do appreciate good things when I see them and she, I wouldn't deny, was so damn stunning. She caressed her skin, carefully and slowly, making sure to keep my attention fixed on her. Her palm came up slowly and cupped a tit, giving it a faint squeeze like she was testing the weight and feeling it in her hands. I wasn't shocked when she ran down the front of her tits down to her stomach. My eyes landed on the small silver ring pierced inside her navel. Her long manicured fingers slowly and deliberately glided inside her pussy, stroking in and out in an attempt to tempt me, to entice me, to bring me to my fucking knees. They flicked in and out, thrusting, sliding. She moaned, pussy wet and glistening. She licked them clean, smiling at me, eyes laced with mischief.

I came up at her, leaning up close, our bare skin touching, grazing, feeling each other up. The faintest hint of a smile stole her lips as she craned her head to gaze into mine.

Her hot breath on my lips, desperate and wanting, "I knew you'd come around, babe. I know you still want me and I want you just as much. You fell for me then. In a matter of time, you will fall for me again. I know it. You are mine. You always have been. Mine."

No words left my lips. I cupped her cheek in the palm of my hands. She arched her back, pushing her tits deeper into my hand as a small moan left her mouth. The slow movement from her eyes to her lips fueled the courage she needed to go on with her seduction and in a matter of second, her tongue was in my mouth. It only took a few seconds to surrender hers to my tongue's dance.

Without a word, I pushed my hip toward her without breaking the kiss. Her knee shoved upward, sliding between my thighs.

               "Oh God, Dario. I've wanted you for so long. I've wanted us together like this again for too long." She said, unlatching the top button of my jeans and sticking her hands in. "You smell so good. You taste so good. So delicious. Amazing. I want you. I want you so bad. Please, Dario. Take me. Take me again please. I need to feel you...all of you inside me again."

I grabbed her by the ass and took her off the ground. Her legs instinctively straddled my torso. Arms swaddling my neck, she sucked harder into my mouth, moving from my lips to my neck, to my eyes and back to my lips. Moving down slightly, body over mine, nibbling on my shoulders all the way to my lips again while making sure she humped on my cock however way she could to get a release. All the while, she wasn't quick enough to catch on my intent. My hands were latched onto the door knob about to get her the fuck out of my house.

Hers?

Fuck, she lost it the moment she decided to play me. No shit.

Her eyes rounded. She realized. It was too late. She was already stumbling on her feet at the other side. I hurled her rags at her, pleased to witness the look of shock and surprise etched on her face. I fucking repeat. I do not go back to my vomit.

She whined, "Dario."

I seethed, fury and rage embedded into my chords, "Let's get this fucking clear, yeah? I've got no 'ex's, twat. I've got 'y's. Like 'y' the fuck did I date you? If I could go back in time to un-meet you, bitch, you better be so damn sure I'd take the first fucking flight. I do not want you back. There's no 'mine' between us. There never have been. Four years and you still haven't riddled out who I am.

If you did, you wouldn't have gotten the nerves to show your damn face at my doorstep and you dare say I fell for you? Hell, you fucking tripped me. Keep your distance away from me. I don't wanna see you an inch close. You got that? If there's anything you should remember about me is the fact that I mean what I say. Now, fuck you and good-bye." I slammed the door in her face with my point satisfyingly sent across.

Relationships are a lot like algebra. You ever looked at your x and just wanted y?

Seconds morphed into minutes, minutes into hours and hours into more hours. Still, I kept on, never backing down, never slacking, eyes focused on my target. Each punch shook the ceiling, shredding the leather skin of the bag hanging in front of me. It swung and swayed as I catalogued my rage into it, non-stop.

The pain had an unpleasant warmth to it, eating at my stomach. There was nausea too. I've often prized myself in ignoring pain and just rocking on regardless. Every thought I had became confused as the burning pain licked up my back like scorching fire. The only thoughts I had was 'like knife through butter'.

I felt the warmth of her eyes on me. I smelt her hesistancy from across the gym. I didn't need to turn around to know she was the one. Her mind was still deliberating, premeditating, considering the possibilities of what could come out of the little plan conceiving in her head. If she could come in or just be on her way. Any which way, whatever decision she decided on would for sure yield the same result. A similar outcome. I stopped the bag from swinging further, steadying it before letting it go.

I didn't bother turning around. I rotated my head, twisting it to the left and right, emanating a slight crack at each shift.

Rolling my shoulders, I clicked my tongue, taking her off guard, "If you're just gonna stand there and ogle me all day like you haven't seen any fucking body look this awesome which you haven't by the way, then you should most definitely throw your ass out the door. I ain't signing autographs at the moment."

~

Phew...this is surely the longest chapter written in this book. Dario is really intense for sure. I almost can't keep up with him. You might have noticed his POV and that of Genesis are very much different.

Delayed update. I know and I apologise for that and that's why this chapter is unusually longer.

Pretty please, tap the star button and tell me what you think.

Xoxo.