Page 13 of Feral
“Hellcat,” Cyrus says as he rushes toward Azadeh. He stops dead in his tracks when he sees her dark scowl. “Okay, this isn’t a happy visit. You mad at us, Kitten? Is that why you’ve stayed away all this time?”
“It depends. Did you help Lev?”
“Help him with what? I keep trying to unload that stick out of his ass, but he seems to be very fond of it.” Cyrus chuckles arrogantly and points in my direction. “I mean, look at the fucker. He’s hanging around the house on a Monday morning dressed like he’s going to a wedding at Buckingham Palace.”
I scoff at his remark. “We can’t all mimic the dress code of a junkie on skid row.”
Cyrus glances at his ripped black jeans, combat boots and smiley face Nirvana t-shirt before dragging his eyes to me. “Doesn’t matter what you think. Chicks dig the fit, bro.” He wags his eyebrows. “Don’t forget, I’m the one who bagged Azadeh, and your dick is about to get a disease from the blue balls you’re packin’.”
I want to lash out like a spoiled child at Cyrus’s dig. He’s pouring salt and citrus on a wound that’ll never heal. But it’s true we haven’t been able to get all of her, no matter how much Zeke and Cyrus talk about her multiple orgasms in one night. Had they been able to “dickmatize” her, as they say, to stay with us, my actions wouldn’t have been necessary.
“Your performance last time must not have been adequate, Cyrus. I’ve heard that when some men hit thirty, their libido takes a dive, and they require assistance. I’d be happy to get my physician to write a prescription for you if you think that would help.”
Cyrus’s jaw ticks as his hand glides into his jeans pocket, and he produces his silver zippo. His smile widens like a predator spotting its prey, and he bares his teeth.
In a flash, the wick of the zippo ignites, and Cyrus pounces on me. He grabs my tie, pulling at it until the tip is on fire. “It’s been a minute since I’ve witnessed someone burn. I miss the stench of charred flesh.”
I don’t move as I watch the flame creeping up my tie, almost relishing the image Cyrus paints.
“You’re fuckin’ crazy!” Azadeh shouts.
She sounds like an angel. I’m okay with a miserable demise if it’s her sweet voice carrying me to the devil. There are worse ways to perish.
Azadeh leaps on Cyrus and pulls him off. I roll on the ground to extinguish the flames eating toward my face. She saved my life. After what I did, she still couldn't bear to see me suffer. Perhaps she does harbor tender feelings for me, even when she adamantly denies their existence.
“Can the two of you tell me what’s going on?” Zeke demands in a frustrated tone. “Y’all are out here acting crazier than usual.”
I rise from the floor and dust the burned threads from my tie before digging into my pocket and pulling out my phone. I open up my email and point the screen toward Zeke. “They’ve got Mona. I thought she was secure in the basement, but apparently, she’s a little like her sister and had a few tricks up her sleeve. She escaped, and the wrong man has her captive.”
“She escaped?” Zeke echoes, dumbfounded. “You had Mona? Here? How the fuck did you keep her a secret without either of us knowing?”
Lev stares at me blankly. “It’s easy to hide when no one sees you.”
I’m so sick of Lev’s sanctimonious bullshit. “Jesus fuck, she sees you. We all see you. This emo nonsense is getting old. Besides, Mona wouldn’t be scared of you. What the fuck did you do to freak her out so bad that she ran?”
Chapter 6
Azadeh—Age 22
The Hospital
It wasn’t a slap to my face when Lev walked away at the hospital. It was a fucking bulldozer to my gut. I never understood why Lev wanted the three of us around when he never seemed to be present. It wasn’t only in times of sorrow; I understood not wanting to be around sadness. Some people couldn’t process in a way that made them feel helpful. But Lev wasn’t only distant in those moments. He was also absent in times of genuine joy. His mind roamed to a faraway place, and all we had was the shell of his physical form. Occasionally, I sensed he hated being in our presence, but the messed-up trauma bond he had with Zeke and Cyrus kept him by our sides.
“What do you need?” Zeke asked, shaking me from my thoughts of Lev.
I smiled at Zeke. His arms had offered comfort and strength for as long as I’d known him. He made things easier for me, and being around him made me feel cherished and safe. Zeke was a blessing in my life, a gift given to me for all the bad things I’d gone through. “You being here is enough.”
Zeke had always been my refuge, someone I could turn to, knowing he’d be on my side no matter what. I was confident I could do nothing to make this man turn away from me. Even as a boy, he was my constant, no matter that his loyalty and fiercely protective nature had lost him something of great value.
I smiled as I thought about how Zeke was the epitome of a noble warrior or king in those old Persian tales in the pages of the Shahnameh. Valiant, resilient, passionate, and brave. He was the perfect prince riding to my rescue, but as much as I wanted to stand behind him and let him protect me, my past wouldn’t allow it. Sometimes, I wished I could blindly lean on him because I knew this man would make me the happiest person on earth. Zeke would take care of me, and I’d never want for anything—traits that made me love him deeply and passionately. Zeke made my world lighter.
Trying to be strong for Dariyus and Mona was exhausting. Dar was so angry. He wanted to ask his friend Ezra for money, but I wouldn’t let him. Ezra was a good guy, but he was affiliated with some scary people. I didn’t want my mother’s heart to break right before she died.
And then there was Mona. I thought she was scared more than anything else. Eighteen and an orphan. We didn’t have any extended family here. No aunts or uncles. In Iran, losing a loved one brought family and the community together in a show of support.
“Some days, I feel like life has been one giant hurdle after another for my family. I don’t know how to stop. It’s like we’re cursed.”
Zeke placed a chaste kiss on my head and whispered, “There’s no such thing as curses. Life is circumstance and luck. Everything we go through is a crapshoot. Gambling is supposed to be bad for us, but our lives are a game of chance from the moment of conception.”