Karson stepped in front of her. She stood perfectly still, staring up at him, mesmerized. His eyes shone until the copper ring around his pupil looked like the orbiting ring of Saturn.
“You won’t be going out with him ever again,” he said smoothly.
“I won’t be going out with him ever again,” she agreed like a robot. Karson stepped aside and she walked off.
“Mary,” the man called out, mildly desperate. “Don’t you dare! Mary, come back right now.”
Mary didn’t even look back, let alone come back.
“Now,” Karson smirked—it was apparent he was enjoying himself. “That’s no way to treat a woman. Do you know what I do to men who abuse women?”
The guy tried to put on a brave face, but he couldn’t hide the fear in his eyes. He was the type of guy who got his power from abusing those weaker than himself. The type of guy who was full of cock and bravado, but when he met his match, he was pathetic. Piss weak, as my dad would say. He was the type of guy who needed a punch in the face, preferably from a woman’s hand, but what Karson might do would be a whole lot worse.
“Karson, remember where we are,” I said quietly.
“The man wants to fight; I wouldn’t want to let him down.” He stepped forward.
The man held out both palms in a show of defeat. “Listen, I got no beef with you. She drives me insane, always nagging. You know what women are like, they know what buttons to push, and they push, and push.”
“I do,” Karson said, his eys flickering to me and back again. “She probably nagged and nagged until you finally snapped.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He nodded, relief hit his face, as if he’d discovered some great fucking male dilemma they could bond over. I gritted my teeth. “Exactly. They just don’t know when to stop, and sometimes, you know how it is, it can get a little out of hand. Women, right?” He gave Karson a nervous, tight smile.
“It can.” Karson paused for a few seconds before he continued, “But it doesn’t have to get out of hand, does it,Simon? It only gets out of hand if you’re weak, or you get some sick thrill out of hurting them.”
Simon’s eyes darted past us and back behind him. Probably praying the trailer blocking his escape had miraculously disappeared. It hadn’t.
“Like I said, I don’t want any trouble.” He held up his hands in front of him as if we held a gun pointed at his chest.
“Oh, it’s a little late for that,” Karson said. He let the predator out. His eyes webbed jet black. His lips changed to a red shade. His fangs, stark against the red, glinted like blades. He snarled a sound that would make Cujo seem like a kindergarten story time.
The man’s eyes flared like goggles. He let out a startled cry and stumbled backward. He tripped over nothing and landed with a plonk on his ass. He twisted and curled into the foetal position, held his hands up, and squeezed his eyes shut.
Karson grabbed him by the shirt and lifted him off the ground. “Please,” the man cried out again. A dark, wet patch spread out across his groin.
“If you ever lay a hand on any woman again,” Karson hissed into his ear, “I will hunt you down and kill you. Do you understand?”
The man whimpered and nodded.
Karson’s fist slammed into the side of his face.
Crack.
The sickening sound of bone breaking. It wasn’t his full strength, but its impact landed like a ton of bricks. Simon’s eyes rolled so far back in his head the whites showed. Blood sprung from the end of his nose like a tap, which sat at a distorted side angle. He wobbled on his feet, and spluttered out something white. A tooth nestled in the grass.
Karson released him.
He dropped to the ground, his mouth slack. He groaned. Blood seeped from the edge of his mouth and still gushed from his nose, weaving through the dirt cracks on the ground like a mosaic tile. He muttered something incomprehensible.
Lights on, but no one was home.
He wouldn’t die. But he’d have one hell of a headache, an embarrassing walk to the car, and some explaining to do tomorrow.
“Ready, sweetheart?” Karson asked, like we were going for a walk in the park, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. We walked back out into sideshow alley. “Your mouth is going to get you in trouble one day, Amelia,” he admonished me when we made it out of the alley.
“I can handle myself, there’s no need for you to leap in and save the day,” I said indignantly. Sensing his mood descend, I added, “And my mouth is quite gifted actually, I can show you later if you like.”
He laughed, a breathy, musical sound.
