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Luck of the Devil by James, Marie (1)



“Think we should come back later?” TJ asks as we watch people stumble in and out of the frat-house.

We’re cloaked in darkness, halfway down the block.

“With the way I feel right now, man, we could go inside and kill everyone, and I wouldn’t even blink an eye,” I mutter, shaking my head as another drunk college girl stumbles down the sidewalk alone.

Don’t these damn girls know that they’re putting themselves at risk? I’m not one to blame the victim, but fuck, don’t get drunk and leave yourself unable to defend an attacker off. If we lived in a perfect world, there would be no problem with drinking until unconsciousness, but the world is a cold, dark, sinister place. It’s filled with demons lying in wait for the opportunities these girls are handing over freely.

Four guys in this damn house are soon going to find out just how bad of a world we live in.

“Briar?” TJ prompts.

“Look how wasted they all are,” I observe, not pulling my eyes from the darkness that swallowed another girl up. “I don’t think anyone would notice us if we walked inside carrying flares and yelling on a bullhorn.”

“Lead the way,” TJ urges with a wicked grin on his face.

He’s just as excited to get to those guys as I am. We both know what’s going to happen here tonight. No one gets away with hurting one of our own, and they damn sure don’t get a pass on hurting Molly. TJ is invested because she’s his sister. My role in her life is a little less concrete, but that won’t keep me from seeking revenge for the girl I’ve watched grow from an eight year old girl into a gorgeous young woman.

The pulse of the music blasting inside vibrates under my boots as I climb the rickety steps onto the porch. TJ, focused on only one thing, gently shrugs off a drunk girl as she brazenly offers herself to him. I know TJ. If that girl is still out here when we’re done, there’s a chance he’ll take her up on her offer, but he’s focused right now. The call of blood has always been stronger than the temptation of pussy for him.

We separate once we get inside, each of us looking for the familiar faces we’re seeking tonight. At twenty years old, TJ fits in perfectly. He’s a college girl's dream with a built frame, dirty-blond hair, and a mischievous smile that leaves women curious. I, on the other hand, am twenty-nine and have no business partying it up with college kids, but they don’t seem to mind.

We spend ten minutes looking around, neither one of us locating the assholes. It can only mean one thing, and TJ realizes it too when his eyes meet mine from across the room. Heading in the direction of the stairs, I add a little hustle to my steps, praying the entire way to the closed bedroom door at the end of the narrow hallway that we aren’t too late.

“Hey guys,” I spit when I open the door and see the passed-out chick on the bed.

One guy is pulling down her panties, struggling against the cumbersomeness of her lethargic body, while two others look on. One doesn’t even bother to stop stroking his cock with our interruption. The guy on the far side of the room drops the cell phone he’s using to record the action and has the wherewithal to look ashamed at what he’s involved in.

“Private party,” another guy says as he turns, dick already out of his jeans.

The second he presses his hand to TJ’s chest in a bid to make him exit the room, all hell breaks loose.

The snap of his wrist can’t be heard over the drone of music from downstairs, but I’m not so sure that his howl of pain won’t be.

“Shut him up,” I snap as I step closer to the guy closest to the girl. He pulled his hands from her body when we walked in, but he doesn’t look like he’s planning to stop. We’re just a minor inconvenience in his evening plans. His eyes are dilated like saucers, cheeks flushed from the increase in his body temperature. The man is high as a fucking kite.

Too bad, I think as I step even closer. I was hoping they’d be fully cognizant when I gut them. We don’t always get what we want though. It’s one of the harsh realities of life.

“Gladly,” TJ hisses.

Time moves in warp speed.

I don’t know if seconds, minutes, or hours pass by, but when it’s all said and done, there are three bodies at our feet and one quivering little asshole pissing himself and trembling in the corner. He’s the only man left in the room alive, aside from TJ and me. He’d be dead too if it weren’t for the fact that he’s fully clothed and was video recording the other guys rather than joining in. I can’t be one hundred percent sure that he wouldn’t have joined in later, but tonight, it’s his only saving grace.

“Look how fucking sexy that is,” TJ says more to himself than anyone else, but it distracts me from my next task briefly.

“Sick fuck,” I murmur, but I look at the girl anyway.

I know what he’s talking about the second the words leave his mouth. He isn’t turned on by the unconscious, vulnerable woman. It’s the blood splattered all over her body that’s getting his dick hard.

“Are we going to leave her there?”

TJ nods. “Let her wake up in this mess. Maybe she’ll learn her fucking lesson.”

He walks closer to her, stepping absently over one of the dead guys. If I were normal, the sight of three young men scattered in pieces around the room would freak me out. The only thing I’m concerned about though is their penchant for date-rape and wondering if their blood contains anything antibiotics won’t cure, because we’re both covered in it. You can’t rip out someone’s entrails and slit their throat while their heart is still pumping without getting a little blood on your clothes.

“You should be safe at home reading a book or something, beautiful.” TJ uses his gloved hand to sweep her blood-matted blonde hair from her face. “Now, you’re here covered in blood.”

She whimpers, her eyes fluttering open before closing again.

“You want to be identified?” I hiss.

The guy I was planning to leave alive is quickly becoming another witness we don’t need.

“It was my pleasure saving you.” TJ swipes his finger through a splatter of blood on her arm and then draws a heart on her cheek.

He’s so close to institutionalization, it’s unreal. The man is certifiable, crazy as crazy gets. Yet, I love him as a brother, and couldn’t ask for a better accomplice in getting retribution for the pain they caused our girl.

“Proceed,” he says as he stands up straight, finally focusing on the matter at hand.

“Do you like watching women get raped?” I cross the distance to the last man alive and squeeze his jaw until he yelps in pain.

His response is more blubbering and generic pleas for his life.

“Listen to me.” He sobs again, forcing me to shake his head until he looks up at me. “Are you listening?”

“Please don’t kill me,” he begs. “I’ll do anything.”

“I’m betting on it,” I agree.



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