Kim Hitt had always been a mean asshole. Even before he supposedly became a hippie. He’d ridden with the Hell’s Angels for a while, but was thrown out because even they couldn’t stand him. Hell. He’d been snorting and smoking up their profits through his weed and cocaine habits.
At a mere five feet, he had a reason to be mean. Allow others to step on you, and you deserved to be made laughing stock. That had been his motto. Never mind that people still laughed at you behind your back.
When he met Natalia, he knew he smelled money. She reeked of it. He knew he’d caught an easy mark. As long as he played nice, she put out like a good little whore. At the same time, he thought he could pimp her out.
He had only one thing, no two, standing in his way. The first was that boy of hers. The other was those bratty little girls. He hated children. They took attention away from the one he thought most important, himself.
Though her boy was only thirteen, he was well connected. Hell. He was probably stronger than he looked. No matter. Kim would stomp a mud hole in his ass. Or so he thought.
Let the boy try something. Just let him. That would give him a reason to nail the little bastard. Fuck him up good. Teach him a lesson he’d never forget.
Enough about the boy. He was hungry. “Woman, where the fuck is my food?” His demand was a usual one.
Natalia looked over at him in contempt. “Get your own damn meal. I’m not your slave.”
He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her down to her knees. “You’ll do what I tell you or I will show you what happens to those who disobey.”
She winced in pain. “Ou, you fucker! let go of my hair!” She struggled to free herself, but in vain. “I ain’t your hooker and you ain’t my pimp. Hell. If it wasn’t for my money, you wouldn’t have your fucking Blow. Or this fucking apartment.”
Without warning, he backhanded her, knocking her down and against the bed. Her mouth was bleeding now. “I told you to get me my food, bitch. And you are whatever I say you are. got it?”
Her eyes began to tear up. “Oh, fuck this. I’m packing. I don’t have to put up with this shit. Not from you, not from anyone.”
He backhanded her again. Before she could react, he was on top of her, beating her with his fists. “When I’m done with you, witch, I’m gonna sell them brats to my drug dealer for more Blow. And there ain’t nothin’ you c’n do to stop me.”
After the third punch, she blacked out. What happened afterward was anyone’s guess. Natalia was unconscious.
Kim looked down, proud of what he’d done. He’d finally put her in her place. With the babies gone, she would be freed up to do all he had planned for her. He was dragged out of his drug-addled thoughts by a knock at the door.
Who the fuck would be coming to see them at this late hour? He hurried and laid her unconscious body on the bed, then went casually down to see who was at the door. He would send whoever it was away. Claim that she was sick. Whatever it took to make them go away.
Matt stood at the door of his mother’s penthouse. Normally, she was at the door by now, warning him to go away as quickly as possible. Not today. Today, something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.
“Who the fuck is it?” Kim was trying to sound big from behind a door.
Matt now knew that something bad had just happened. Kim never came to the door. Never. He remained quiet. He would force the little imp to open the door, then bust it in.
He heard the deadbolt click and the chain put into place. Kim was way too short to see out of the peephole. That meant he had to open in order to see who it was.
As soon as it opened to a point of no return, Matt made a well-placed karate kick to its center and sent it-chain and all- careening out of Kim’s hands. By the stream of cuss words, he knew he’d also hurt the little man’s fingers as well.
He glared at the ex-biker. “Where is she?”
Kim glared back. “She’s up in bed. She’s sick.”
His words pissed Matt off. “Hell, too.” Matt flew up the stairs to the master bedroom.
The sight that greeted him sickened him. There was blood everywhere. His mother lay on the bed, bleeding profusely from numerous wounds. He whipped around in time to see the little man charge with a baseball bat, swinging. He easily dodged the blows, then yanked the bat out of Kim’s hands and commenced to beating the little man with it. “How do you like being beaten, Huh? How do you like your own fucking medicine?”
The bat landed with each blow, Kim’s small body jerking with each impact. He heard bones breaking, crunching like corn chips. Yet, Matt couldn’t stop himself. He just kept on beating the unconscious man. Over and over.
Once his rage subsided, he dropped the bat and went calmly over to his mother’s phone. He dialed for Tom. “Tom. I need your help. Come to my mom’s. Quick. I’ll explain when you get here.” He hung up.
He dragged Kim’s lifeless body to the grand staircase and tossed it, like a sack of clothes, to the bottom. The man was probably already dead. The toss couldn’t do much more damage than had already been done.
He turned and went back into the bedroom. He had to see if his mother was still alive. He knelt beside her and checked her pulse. She was still alive.
She let out a feeble moan and opened her left eye. It was the only eye not swollen shut. “Matty,” she began feebly, “Take Star and Rainbow out of here. He threatened to sell them. I don’t want him to. Please…”
He patted her hand. “Rest easy, Mama. He isn’t going to be doing much of anything. He’s gone.”
She let out a sigh of relief. “Good. I shoulda listened to you, Matty. You told me he was no good. I shoulda listened.”
He smiled at her sadly. “Quiet, Mama. I’m going to call you an ambulance.”
She looked up at him, her eyes still pleading. “Please, Matty. Take the girls find them some place safe.”
He felt a tear come to his eye. “OK, Mama. I will.”