The Monster Within Ch. 03

"If you leave the choice to me, then I will stay. I can simply not believe that you are a bad man or would do anything to hurt me or anybody else."

"I would have ordered my pack to kill Donald if it had been necessary."

"That's different, that would have been self-defence."

"You don't understand but then how could you. Now, if you want to stay, we should probably set up your equipment and store away your clothes and other things."

"You're really smooth when it comes to changing the topic, but ok. I will not force you to talk about something you don't want to talk about. Do you want to start with the equipment while I take care of my clothes?"

"If you want to use these machines without the risk of injuries, you should assemble them yourself. But you can take care of your clothes while I walk the pack later."

***

After dinner we cuddled up in front of the TV. After unsuccessfully zapping through the channels, we decided on watching some DVD. As I knew the contents of my cupboards, I sent Beverly to choose something.

"Science fiction, action, thriller, horror, fantasy. You're not really the romcom type, are you?"

"Obviously not. When not watching a quiz or a documentary, I usually prefer it when actually something happens in the movie."

"Ok. I've never had the opportunity to watch all the episodes. I'm sure I've seen them all, multiple times, but how about we start with TOS tonight. When we are through we take on TNG, then Voyager, then DS9 and last but not least Archer's Enterprise?"

"That might take a while but if you're willing to put up with my messed up brain for so long, I think it is a wonderful idea," I replied, "with one tiny exception. I will not watch the TNG episode 'Night Terrors'."

"Which one is that?"

"The worst episode of Star Trek ever made."

***

Later that evening when we went to bed and Beverly had cuddled up to me, she tried to get intimate again. But after I had sorted my thoughts throughout the day, I had decided for me that I would not allow that anymore for the time being.

"No, Beverly. I told you yesterday how I feel about sleeping with you. After everything you told me today, nothing has changed. It has even confirmed my worries."

"So you mean you won't sleep with me anymore?"

"Yes. That's what I'm saying."

"So you got your fix yesterday and now you're good for a while?" she tried to appeal to my conscience.

"Bev! That's neither fair nor true. My decision is based on what I think is best for you, not what is most convenient for me."

"And I don't get a say in this?" she complained with all the self-esteem of a woman that knows how beautiful she is.

"Of course you do. But it takes two to tango. If one person doesn't want to have sex, that's pretty much the end of it, unless you intend to rape me. A man must have the same right to say no as a woman."

"But your reasoning is just wrong. You are neither forcing, nor exploiting me. It's my decision to give, not your decision to take," she begged submissively.

"That doesn't change the basic situation that you are in need of help and I am in a position of power. Please let it rest. I don't do this to punish you or drive you away. I do this because I care about you."

"Then I can as well sleep in the guest room," she replied angrily and got up to leave the bedroom.

"You don't have to, but maybe it's for the best. The bed is made, you don't need to take anything with you. Sleep well."

Her rapid mood swings during this discussion proved me right. She was still unstable and I needed to stand firm. I wouldn't help her if I gave in to her pressure. I heard her stomping down the stairs, enter the guest room and slam the door. Maybe she would leave in the morning, it would be better for her anyhow. I turned on my back and tried to relax in my preferred sleeping position but soon realised that I wouldn't fall asleep quickly. I therefor opened my e-reader and continued with the novel I was reading.

When I finally was starting to nod off, I felt somebody crawl under the cover next to me. I hadn't heard her come upstairs.

"I'm sorry for acting so childish. Would you let me sleep here with you?"

"Of course," I turned off the reader and extended my left arm for Beverly to snuggle up. She immediately took the opportunity. Neither of us needed much more time to fall asleep.

***

The next morning while I was still drinking coffee, I received an email from Michael, my lawyer. He had an opening in his calendar. I called him back and made an appointment for midmorning.

I quickly finished the coffee and went upstairs to wake Beverly.

"Coming for a morning quickie? Want me to take care of your morning wood?"

Always the temptress.

"No. My lawyer has some free time at 10.00h. Its 07.30h now. If you're up to it, we could go meet him, so we can take care of your apartment. I also have some other errands to run. We can then take a quick lunch in town or at home, I'll do some dog work and the dog walk while you do whatever you feel like. What do you think? Does that work for you?"

"Sure. But you understand you basically just told me I can screw your brains out while you walk the dogs."

"How can you have such coherent thought after just having been woken up? I usually need at least one coffee before I'm capable of adding up two and two."

"I don't need coherent thoughts to want you."

I shook my head, "Why don't get your day started with a coffee? I'll be right down with you."

While Beverly went downstairs to have her morning coffee, I took a quick shower. This caused another little dispute as she had planned another attempt to seduce me in the shower.

***

We arrived at my lawyer just in time and were let into his office immediately.

"Hi Michael."

"Stan, welcome. And you must be Beverly Ferguson."

After the introduction we quickly came down to business. I explained the situation the best I could, encouraging Beverly to fill the blanks I left. When we were through, Michael started with a few questions.

"What's the address?"

Beverly told him and Michael instructed his assistant to check the ownership of the house. While we waited for the result, Michael got out some paperwork and Beverly signed a power of attorney which enabled Michael to act on her behalf.

"I might need to contact your ex-boyfriends parents. Do you have their contact information?"

"Yes, I do. But please, his mother is such a nice woman, I don't want her to suffer from Donald's misbehaviour."

"Michael, if Donald's mother needs to be involved make it easy for her, don't pressurise her but support her. Ok? I will cover for all expenses within reason, including a moving company and such. You know what I mean."

"Of course," he scribbled down a few notes.

His assistant returned from his research, "The house is owned by one of Mr. Parker's foundations. It's the one covering medical costs."

I laughed, "Well, that makes the termination of the lease a bit easier. Michael, inform the administration about the special situation we have here and suspend the lease until everything is settled."

A short time later we left the lawyers premises. I was confident that everything would be going smoothly. We agreed on having a quick coffee somewhere. We entered a small coffee shop and sat down.

"Bev, I don't want you to think I'm pushing you into a gender role. You know, shopping, cooking, house-hold and such for you and providing and money and such for me but would it be ok if you went grocery shopping while I quickly take care of some banking issues and order new meat for the pack. The stock in the fridge downstairs is running low."

"No problem. I love cooking but I need a well-equipped kitchen and fridge. I raised a rough inventory before we left and have a shopping list in my head. Some of your cooking-ware could use replacement. Would it be ok if I did that?"

"Only if I pay for it."

"You can't pay for it if I do the shopping."

"And at that point, milady, you are mistaken," I took out my wallet and handed her five hundred Francs, "I suppose this is enough to replace the cooking-ware, buy food and spices and whatever else you might want or need."

"Enough? That's twice of what I need."

"Well, I didn't say you have to spend all of it. You can but you don't have to. Where do you want to go shopping? There's a supermarket on the next corner or there's a nicer store a bit further. Your choice, my treat."

***

After we had returned from the walk, we went to the kitchen to prepare the dinner. I was deeply impressed by how efficient yet intent on the details Bev was. She ran circles around me, handled multiple pans and pots, perfectly coordinated various cooking times. I did my best to help but felt a bit lost in this whirlwind of efficiency.

"Isn't this a bit much food for the two of us?" I enquired. Beverly just smiled and sent me to set up the table in the living room for four adults and two children. I was just about done when Gabriella and Daniel stormed in and up.

"Hi Uncle Stan!" They flung themselves into my arms, Gabriella first, Daniel a few seconds later, and I dropped, seemingly overpowered, on the couch. "Mommy told us we not allowed to come over last week-end. She said that you and Bevelly had some grown-up thing to talk about. Can we come over again now? We missed you and we missed the pack!"

"You are always welcome, my friends, but it was very nice of you to give Beverly and me some time to talk about all this boring adult stuff. How was school today? Had any tests in school I should know about?"

"Boring. I don't want to talk about school. I want to talk about dog training."

Patrick and Esther came up the stairs. Patrick helped me to get up and gave me a friendly punch on the shoulder, "Everything well? Beverly's ok?"

The kids took off to play with the pack.

I gave Esther a quick embrace and a welcoming kiss on the cheek, "Yeah, absolutely. We've had some great conversations over the last few days. She's nice. I like her. A lot."

Esther suppressed a laugh, "Conversations. Sure. You lock yourself in your house with such a stunning beauty and all you do is talk."

"Hey!" I played the offended. "I'm not some kind of sex maniac exploiting a woman in need. I was raised to be a gentleman."

"Bore. I'll have to ask Beverly for the juicy details then," she smiled.

"There are no 'juicy details' to talk about."

"That's not for you to decide. Speaking of the devil: Where is she?"

"In the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the dinner."

Right on cue Beverly came out of the kitchen, holding a serving dish with potatoes. We quickly gathered the kids and carried the rest of the food out of the kitchen.

We enjoyed a funny, relaxed dinner. The kids, especially Gabriella, were babbling without a pause. Then, out of nothing, she asked the question I had hoped to avoid.

"Uncle Stan, is Bevelly our aunt now?"

We exchanged a quick glance. I was just about to answer when Bev fell in, "No, Gab, I'm not your aunt. Yet. But I would be very happy to be your friend. And as my friend you can teach me how to handle the pack."

I was impressed by her quick thinking. By mentioning the pack Gabriella's focus was immediately reset. The rest of the dinner passed uneventful.

When the dishes were put away and the table was cleaned, we adults had moved to the living room while the kids were off to the gaming console. Patrick and Esther shared the couch while Beverly had ushered me to the recliner and squeezed in beside me, just like she had last Friday.

It was Esther who took up the question of Bev and me again, "So, are you a couple or not? You sure look like one."

"No, we are not," we replied simultaneously.

"Maybe I should say that Stan is not yet part of the couple."

"So you're saying what? You are in a relationship with him, but he is not in a relationship with you? How should that work?"

"No. What I'm saying is that he is refusing to accept that we are a couple."

Patrick addressed me, "You do realise that Sandra..."

"Would you all please stop it?! There is only one person in this whole damned world who has a say in the question whether I'm in a relationship or not and that's me. Neither one of you nor Sandra nor the bloody Flying Spaghetti Monster has a say in it," I exclaimed heatedly while abruptly getting out of the recliner. I briskly went downstairs, through the kennel and out in the garden. I marched straight ahead and right into the lake until I was in knee-deep water. There I stopped, looking out towards the lake, trying to calm the inner turmoil. After a few minutes I heard paws approach me. Berne, my trusted lieutenant, stopped next to me and nuzzled on my hand. He felt my agitation and offered me stability in a time of uproar.

After a few more minutes I heard shoes come close. Judging from the sound of the footsteps I was quite sure that it was Patrick, an assumption that was confirmed with a quick glance over my shoulder. I heard him take off his shoes and roll up his pants, something I had not been bothered with. He then came to my left side, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"I'm sorry. We didn't intend to upset you."

"I know. I'm not angry with any of you. I'm angry with myself."

"You did nothing wrong."

"Yes, I did. I let my emotions get out of control. The last time that happened didn't end well for many people."

He shook his head, "There is no easy way to tell you but nothing that happened four years ago was your fault. Whatever you believe you did wrong, was not your fault. You did not cause the deaths of Sandra, Cecile and Matthew."

"I know that. Let's head back. I need to apologise to Esther and Beverly."

He knew that I evaded the topic by this but he let it slip. We returned to the house and shortly after, Patrick and Esther collected their kids and left. Beverly and I were alone again.

We dressed more comfortably, settled in front of the TV and continued watching TOS. If my outburst brought something positive, it was that Beverly stopped teasing me. She accepted that whatever would happen, would happen at the pace that I defined.

******

She spent the next few days tip-toeing around me. On Thursday it was time for the big highlight of the month. The pack would get a new member. Beverly had no idea what was about to happen when I took her to the breeder. There is nothing better to lighten the mood than a new puppy. After Oslo had been introduced to the pack, things went a bit easier again. Beverly's attempts to seduce me were still on hold but we still shared the bed every night providing each other with much needed comfort.

Two weeks after Oslo's arrival we had another appointment with Michael who then informed us that the lease had been terminated and Donald's possessions had been handed over to his mother. That chapter of her past could be closed.

Back home we proceeded with our daily routines, the same way we had in the past two weeks. On Beverly's request we were watching a romcom, when she suddenly burst into tears. I was flabbergasted as I had no idea where this came from.

"What's wrong?"

"Everything! Everything is wrong! This whole situation is wrong. You are wrong. You do so much for me, you help me so much but you refuse to let me return the favour. You hurt. You suffer. And you have suffered for so long and detached from your emotions so strictly, that you probably cannot even imagine how it feels to sit here helplessly and not be able to help you."

I pulled her into an embrace and held her close, "Nobody can help me but time."

"I don't believe you. There is something inside of you that makes you believe that, but it is lying. You are not alone. You are surrounded by people who love you and want to help you."

I steadied myself by taking a deep breath. That was the moment I had feared for so long. I was about to share the story of my ugliest and most evil deeds.

"I've never told anyone, not even Patrick or Esther, what I'm about to tell you now. It's the story of why I know that I don't deserve any of the love that you and Patrick and Esther and the kids are offering."

I sat silently for a minute, sorting my thoughts.

"You know that Sandra and our twins were killed in what was officially denoted as a road accident. But that was just a cover up by the officials. A biker gang had stopped the car and unloaded so many bullets into it that in the end there were more holes than metal in the frame. It was murder, cold blooded and brutal murder. It was intended to be a statement to the crime scene and the police of the county and the canton: They were reckless, merciless, determined. They would take control of the county, they were here to stay and they would stop at nothing. Sandra and the twins just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The dash cam had recorded most of it and transferred it to our computer at home until it stopped working. I showed the video to the police but they were already in over their heads. The chief and the mayor at that time were already in their pocket. They urged me to delete the video, to accept their deaths as fate. Soon I understood that there was no help to expect from their side. I fell into a deep depression. If it hadn't been for the pack, I might have killed myself right then. Maybe I should have, so much suffering could have been avoided. But their devotion, their loyalty helped me through and out of the depression. Or at least so far out that I was able to act.

I had failed on my promise to protect my family from all harm but I would avenge them. I was up against a brutal and violent gang of bikers, twenty ruthless men and women, so I couldn't take them on openly. I chose the only path which had at least a glimmer of a chance of success: stealth.

I waited for an opportunity and when it came I acted. On a dog walk I met one of the bikers alone, taking a leak at the side of the road, and, with the help of the pack, I caught and took him to a well-hidden cabin in the woods. There I demanded information. When he didn't provide it voluntary, I turned to torture. I started by beating him. When this didn't provide the desired result, I started using glowing coals, burning sticks, ice, chocking and electricity. I reasoned with myself that I just did what was necessary. I tortured him for any information, I could need. I was lucky as he was one of the core members of the gang. I held him captive for four days and when he finally died, I knew most there was to know about the gang: who was in charge, who had attacked Sandra's car, what were the hierarchies, the alliances, the conflicts, who would fight, who would run, what was whose favourite food, music band, colour and so on. In the end he was a broken man, I had stripped him of his dignity, his humanity, he was just a heap of broken bones and pain. He begged for me to kill him. I slit his throat and buried him in the forest.

With the intelligence I had gathered, I started to hunt the gang. I took them down, one by one. I focussed on the core, but I also killed some of the peripheral members. And every single one I looked in the eyes when he died. I didn't want to kill them, I would have preferred to make them suffer for the rest of their lives. But I couldn't risk that they would come after me later. They had to die. I didn't directly torture them, but I made sure they died a painful death.

When they realised what happened, they became more careful but some of the gang members got cold feet and ran. I let them get away as long as they were not involved in the murder of Sandra, Cecile and Matthew. It didn't help them. When I finally got hold of the leader, he had also led the attack on the car with Sandra, Cecile and Matthew in it, I let him die a slow and painful death. It took him eight days to die. I used every method of torture I could think of or find on the internet. I'm ashamed to admit it but I enjoyed every minute of it.