Jesse
The trailer door rattled shut behind me after I took the steps to my camper one at a time. I had just finished a grueling training session with Ice and my roommate, Johnny. I was alone and wondered why Johnny hadn’t come to the camper for the lunch break. I tossed my riding gloves onto the small kitchen table.
The manufacturers of these campers tried to fit all the comforts of a house into these small spaces, meaning everything was compact and slightly smaller than regular sized furniture. Since the living area and kitchen were all one space, the table had to function as a catch all for all of our junk. And Johnny and I were typical guys; we were slobs. Most of our stuff just landed wherever we dropped it. Good thing Niki didn’t get out to the training camp often, seeing this mess.
A half-eaten bag of potato chips was lying open on the countertop. It made a sharp crunching sound as I shoved my hand inside. I was starving. I tossed my head back and shoveled a handful of chips into my mouth, wondering again why the hell Johnny hadn’t finished his morning training session yet. How the hell did that skinny bastard even have enough flesh on him to handle a 250cc? Didn’t he need to eat lunch?
The fridge was stocked with cans of energy drink, our team sponsor’s logo emblazoned on the side, and I was planning on popping open a can as soon as I finished off this bag of chips. I tipped my head back to shake the last few crumbs into my mouth, then froze with the bag midair. My crunching stopped as I slowly turned and lowered my head. Something on the table had caught my eye. The empty bag fell to the floor as I stepped closer to the kitchen table. There, underneath my cell phone and amongst the other mess on the table, was a large, black and white, photograph. I blinked, not sure who the people were in the photograph. I stood next to the table, leaned over and shoved aside my phone and the other junk which hid only the corners of the photograph. My eyebrows drew together in confusion. Had I put my cell phone on top of this photograph earlier when I left the trailer?
Hell no.
Someone had been in here. As I picked up the photograph to take a closer look, a second one fell out from underneath. This couldn’t be. What my eyes were seeing was too crazy to fathom. My stomach clenched and I squeezed my eyes shut tightly. When I opened them again it was still there. I had foolishly hoped that my eyes were playing tricks on me. It looked like this was a photograph of Niki. And she was locked in a passionate embrace with Gio. And they were kissing. Like lovers.
What the fucking hell was this?
Rage rumbled in my gut, rising up inside of me like a volcano, ready to erupt. I knew it. I knew something like this shit was going to happen with that dick-wad, Gio, hanging around my Niki. My girl, Niki. My one and only. My angel. How could she do this to me? I couldn’t breathe. I dropped the pictures back onto the table, too disgusted to even touch them. A faint buzzing rang in my ears and my vision seemed slightly blurred. I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t know what to do. Niki had my heart and now she was tearing it apart. How could she do this to me? I stumbled around, as if I were drunk, though I hadn’t had a drink for days. I was fuming mad, so fucking pissed, my heart felt like it was shredding into pieces with every second that passed, with every searing painful thought that filled my head. She had betrayed me. And for what? A chance to be with that fucking low life photographer, Gio?
Without thinking, I reached for the energy drink can, filled to the top, and I threw it blindly at the wall. A growling howl ripped from my throat as I pitched it as hard as I could. A spray of sticky fluid canvassed the entire area, covering the walls and all the furniture in the trailer. My projectile finally stopped when it hit the window over the couch, and it busted clean through the thin layer of glass. The shatter was like cold water had been thrown in my face and it brought my senses back into sharp focus again.
I’m gonna kill that mother fucker.
I changed into some shoes I could drive in and snatched the photos off the table, along with my car keys. When I reached for the door I nearly fell into Johnny, who was finally coming in for lunch.
“What the hell, dude? You almost ran me over.”
“Get the fuck out of my way.” I barked, as he pressed his slender frame up against the door to let me pass. I was seeing red and I didn’t give a damn who I’d hurt along the way. I had to find this little Italian fucker and... and... how could she do this to me?
“What the hell is wrong with you, dude? You look like you’re possessed, man.”
I left Johnny standing at the door with his mouth hanging open. At that moment the devil did own me, but I didn’t give a damn. I would burn in hell if I had to, just to keep that worthless piece of shit away from my girl.
I jumped in my car and peeled out of the parking area, the back wheels and my tires spitting small rocks and clouds of dust as I took off. I don’t know how I managed to drive into Milan without crashing my car. I can’t even remember the details of driving to Gio’s studio. It was kind of all a blur but Niki had given me his business card so that, in case of an emergency, I would be able to find her, so I had his address. And this was an emergency. Somebody was going to need an ambulance and it wasn’t going to be me.
At the first red light, I wrestled my wallet out of my pants pocket, nearly standing on the gas pedal to straighten my leg enough to get the damn thing out. I pulled out Gio’s business card and read the address. It was in the city, on a street with a name that I remembered seeing not far from our hotel. I tossed it on the passenger seat, on top of the photographs. Every time I looked over at those photographs on the seat next to me, I wanted to puke.
That fucker. That little Italian fucker.
How could she do this to me? He tricked her. He lured her in with promises of meeting clients for her career. Fucking Italian sleaze ball. Who knows what he had done to her? Photographed her naked, or made a sex tape with her?
Argh! I’m gonna cut his dick off and shove it up his ass!
I mashed my foot harder on the accelerator, but even with it pressed to the floor board, the little piss ant car wouldn’t go fast enough for me to vent my searing rage.
I had to focus. This wasn’t getting me anywhere. I didn’t know what street I was on. I slowed down and tried to reason through it.
Maybe it wasn’t Niki in the photo. Maybe it was some other girl, who looked like Niki, and I jumped to conclusions. Then why were they in my trailer, on my table, right where I would find them? I glanced at the photograph a second time, lying there mocking me. Dammit, that was Niki. She was wearing the earrings I bought her the day we went shopping. Wait. She was wearing the earrings I bought her? Oh my mother fucking god, she was wearing the earrings I bought her and sucking face with that asshole?
I’m gonna pound his face into the ground. Then we’ll see who wants to kiss that.
I stopped at an intersection and looked up at the street sign. It was his street alright, but where the hell was his number? Oh for the love of Christ... just let me find this dude’s place. My nerves were as jagged as a piece of broken glass. I raked my fingers through my hair and, when I looked a second time, there was his address. That didn’t look like a studio. Is this where Niki had been spending all of her time? There were broken beer bottles spilling out of a black garbage bag on the sidewalk and a boarded up window at the address next to the studio. If I had known she was coming here every day I wouldn’t have allowed it. I should have spent more time with her and come with her, to see what she did for her work, instead of being wrapped up in my own world of dirt bikes and training for championships. Niki was so special to me, I could never live with myself if anything bad happened to her while we were here in Milan; or anywhere, for that matter. I shouldn’t have left her in a strange city every day. There were too many wolves to take advantage of her.
I turned the corner and slammed the car into park. I kicked open the car door and closed the gap between his studio door and the curb in a few quick strides, with the photographs clenched in my fist. The thought of calling Niki first had crossed my mind, but I wanted to see for myself what was going on here. Part of me wanted to catch them in the act but part of me didn’t want to know the truth. What was the truth? I didn’t know, anymore. I thought Niki and I were solid. But now this jerk, Gio, had entered the picture and was a threat to our relationship. I hadn’t liked the guy since the first moment I met him.
I pounded on the wooden door, my voice bellowing out, “Open the fucking door, Gio. Where’s Niki? I’m warning you. If you have Niki in there I’m gonna beat the shit out of you. Open the God damn fucking door!”
The door flew open and a surprised Gio met my icy glare. “Where the hell is Niki? I want to talk to her, now.”
He sneered at me and held the door with one hand, blocking my view into the studio. “Niki’s not here. She’s running errands for me. You seem upset. You should leave.”
Arrogant little bastard. I put my palm to the door. This asshole couldn’t stop a mouse, let alone me. “I’m not leaving until I talk to her, so where is she?” I craned my neck to look past him, to see if she was in there. I half expected to see her purse, or possibly her jacket slung over a chair. “What have you got in here? A bedroom where you take all of your ‘assistants?’ Is that what you do? Take photographs of them with your little pencil dick, while you fuck them?”
“You’re an asshole. She deserves better than a beast like you. Niki’s a nice ass...” I heard him talk but before he could finish his sentence, I threw the photographs at him, followed by a shove with both of my hands. I pushed all my weight into it, sending him crashing backwards into the door he had been trying to use to block me out.
“Don’t you dare talk about my girl’s ass!” I roared. He ran around behind a small table with a wooden chair, trying to put some furniture between us, for protection.
“I didn’t say ass, you buffoon, I was trying to say assistant.”
I was seeing red and I was positive he had said she had a nice ass. So, in a rage of anger, I picked up the small chair and threw it at the wall. The leg of it caught on a canvas painting and tore a jagged cut into the surface. Then I lifted the small table over my head and smashed it to the floor, splinters of wood spiraling across the polished cement floor. Now there were no more barriers between me and Gio, so I knocked the fucking shit out of him. He landed hard on the floor on his back— out cold— with blood running out of his nose. Served him right.
“Don’t fucking mess with my girl again.” I spat the words at him, though he couldn’t hear. A slender girl with long dark hair came running out from a back room, another one of his “assistants” I guessed, shrieking and calling his name, cursing at me and threatening to call the police if I didn’t leave. Fuck her. I hope she gags on his dick, next time she goes down on him.
I’d had enough of these people and their perverted pretense. Photographers and fashion models? Right. Debbie Deep Throat maybe, and her so called “photographer.” Who the fuck was this Gio guy, anyway?
I left her kneeling over him when a couple more dudes came rushing out from the back room to see what all her screaming was about. I high-tailed it out of there before the police could arrive.