Nightmares of a Beast

Thought this guy was broke?

C>POV 

That was one hell of a fight. Who knew he could fight like that? I knew he could fight, just not that well. Not to mention Dylan and his guys where  tossed away like garbage to the wind. The memory bringing a stupid grin to my face as I leaned on the window. 

"You okay?" 

Seth was leaning out of his seat, a hand propped on the driver's seat and the other flat against the seat between us. He was making sure the Uber guy was driving in the right direction. 

"Yeah, fine."

I looked back out the window, flashing lights flitting over my face like Multicolor disco lights the further we drove into the city. The longer I sat there, the clearer a realization came.

"Dude! Your car! What if it gets jacked or something?!" He laughed to himself, looking like a kid that got tickled too hard. The thought made me uneasy, how could he laugh it off? Didn't he save he only occasionally rented that flat? Is he crazy? How is he going to afford repairs or a new one when he barely has anywhere to live on a daily basis? I sat there contemplating how much the ride back would cost and if I could cover it, worrying and running the edges of my teeth against my nails. He smacked my forehead with back of his hand. 

"Don't worry about it, I got this." 

Uneasiness turned my gut clammy, 'What does he mean when he says he's got this?'

Sweat rolls down my back in the air conditioned interior of the Uber, I should stop thinking. 

'is he gonna rip the wheel away from this guy and kill him?' 'What if  he's a killer?' I was already regretting my decision on following the kick-ass dude with a sword. This is good, and this is bad. Should I body roll out of the car and chance being road kill? Or should I risk it with the sword swinging happy,  guy who saved me? The car stopped in the square, Seth climbing out of the car only to reach back in and tug me out after him. He shut the door and moved towards the driver side window, my feet rooted to the ground. My mind keeps telling me that, if I move; I might run into trouble. His hand stayed clapped around my wrist, leaning into the driver's window and handing him something; when he ducked back out a black card was clenched in his fist. I couldn't see it clearly, but the silver printed letters gave it all away. 'Did he steal that?' 

Seth gave me the side eye, staring for a short couple of  seconds before slapping my forehead with the palm of his hand. 

"You okay?"  I nodded, not quite sure how to feel about the black card I saw. By the time I came out of my thoughts, Seth had already dragged me up the stairs and I shook my fuzzy thoughts away in favor of watching him fumble with the keys to the flat before shoving open the door. Amused at his antics, I followed him in and made sure to bolt the door shut behind me. moving further into the room, I kept my eyes trained on him as he, for some reason decided it was the right time for some parkour. Arms pinwheeling and shoulders rolling ,  there were a series of short hops and jumps before Seth propelled his body off the arm of the sofa and into the maze of iron beams criss-crossing the ceiling. His body was a fascinating ball of twisting and curling blood and bone, the veins in his arms engorging  and the rhythmic swing of his legs entrancing me to watch the infernal dance before me. It was fierce and powerful, just as the man performing it. 

A white cloth bundle hitting me in the nose drove me out of my spacing out session, blushing when I realize I'd been staring, open mouthed and quite obviously too. Groaning  with my face ablaze, I slapped myself into reality; praying I wouldn't end up doing it again. 

"Careful there Cal, you might give the wrong person the wrong impression." 

I gave him a light hearted laugh, even as a hollow dropped open inside my chest. Like an elephant's foot resting inside my ribs. I swallowed dryly. Seth whistled a short flat note to rouse my attention. I looked up. He stood in the kitchen, arm resting over the top of the open fridge door. 

"You gonna eat? I think we still have enough in here to make a sandwich or two." 

"Yeah, that's be great. We got salami?" 

Chuckling, he mussed my locks as I approached the fridge; a smile still wide on his face. 

"Yeah, come on. You go sit over there on a stool like a good little boy and I'll make sandwiches." he goaded. Oh how infuriating, he could be when he tried. 

"You're only a little over a year older, prick." I rebuked. 

But I did do what he suggested, taking a seat at the counter on a stool and letting him do all the work. Seth systematically built two sandwiches, separating the cheese from the honey mustard with the lettuce and completing each plate with a pickle spear. He handed one of the plates to me before taking care of the trash, even rinsing the the pickle jar and placing it by the blue recycling bin by the door. I'd eaten a half of my  sandwich by the time he'd sat down next to me with his own. I pushed an unopened bottle of water from the group of them sitting on the counter towards his sandwich in one hand, he used the other to nod his thanks with a tip of the water bottle. Seth finished at the same time I did, leaning away from the counter and stretching his back while I thought. 

"Hey, you never told me where the car came from. You didn't have one before."

It bothered me that he wouldn't answer. Instead, he just brushed his crumbs into the trash and began washing his plate. His eyes downcast and deliberately focused on his task. I grabbed my plate and stood by him waiting for my turn. 

"Seriously Seth. The other night it was fifty buck beef, today it was a car and a black card. That stuff doesn't just appear, Seithen!"

The silence after my outburst seemed to pull the last straw I had. My chest ached with the indifferent expression on Seth's face, I was hurt and angry that he didn't trust me the smallest bit. I'd assumed trust a vital part of a functional friendship. Apparently I was the only one who'd thought so. My mind was overwhelmed with the urge for a strong smoke, stress putting the addiction I'd thought had gone back into my head. I got up to leave, unable to deal with standing here for much longer. A small part of me knew I was the one being unreasonable no matter how much I also knew the lies bothered me. The rest of me hoped he wouldn't let me leave, but when I looked up from where I stood with my hand on the door knob; my desperate hope fell. Seth still stood frozen in front of the sink with his head down. he didnt say a word as I stepped outside the room and slammed the door behind me. My heart raced as I escaped, my fingers rolling a cigarette between my fingers in the right hand pocket of my leather jacket. The stairs were a quick trot down to the first floor, cold brisk air bellowing into my face as I stepped through the doors. I turned left and ducked into the first alley after checking no one was looking my way. My lighter kissed the end of the plain white butt of the cig, orange ember lighting my face in the dark. My fingers carried my savior towards my lips for the first time in six months, the smoke curling in my lungs as I shut my eyes and let the cancer stick do its work. The last thing I let myself feel was the harsh drag of the brick wall as I slid to the ground beside the fire escape.