My Boyfriend is a MONSTER Read online

  My Boyfriend

  is a

  MONSTER

  Fight Back

  Edition

  A Horrifyingly Romantic Novel

  J.H. COATES

  Copyright © 2014 by J.H. Coates

  Smashwords Edition

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  My Boyfriend is a MONSTER 3rd Edition, Fight Back Edition

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  For Information please forward inquiries to: [email protected]

  Cover Illustration by: Mark Shearman

  This book is available in print at most online retailers

  This is for Tami

  Who was with me every step.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Acknowledgment to Mark Shearman who I connected through The Book Cover Designer online. The cover could not have been more perfect, contact info: shearart.blogspot.com

  Acknowledgment to the following, Blue on Blue, Composed by: Burt Bacharach, Lyrics by: Hal David and Recorded by: Bobby Vinton

  Acknowledgments to the following, Harry Potter, written by: J.K. Rowling. 50 Shades of Grey, written by: E.L. James. The Stand, written by: Stephen King. Poor Fellow My Country, written by: Xavier Herbert. War and Peace, written by: Leo Tolstoy. Moby Dick, written by: Herman Melville. Treasure Island, written by: Robert Louis Stevenson. A Tale of Two Cities, written by: Charles Dickens

  His excitement didn’t wane, even when the shop keeper told him it was more of a book for children. In which Nathan replied. “A good book never has an age requirement. A good book is just a good book.”

  My Boyfriend is a Monster

  “The time period of this quote must be taken into consideration. I do strongly believe in age appropriateness for books, but I stand firm with the second part of the statement. A good book is just a good book. Search them out, wherever they may be.”

  J.H. Coates.

  Middle English Monstre, from Anglo-French, from Latin Monstrum, from monēre, meaning to warn.

  Mon•ster

  Usually connotes something wrong or evil; a monster is generally morally objectionable, physically or psychologically hideous, and/or a freak of nature. It can also be applied figuratively to a person with similar characteristics like a greedy person or a person who does horrible things.

  First Known Use of the word Monster: 14th Century

  But Monsters of all kinds have been around since the beginning…

  Chapter I

  ONE:

  APART

  She was beaten into unconsciousness and he was about to commit murder.

  Lily tried to open her eyes but she just did not have the strength. Noticing a white blur hanging past her lids led her to two assumptions, it was morning, or the bathroom light was left on. Either way, she blamed it on feeding the slow but constant pounding in the back of her head.

  She moaned.

  Hearing herself seemed to cause the throbbing in her head to grow. What was just early awareness a mere moment ago was starting to gain momentum and memories were starting to trickle in like flash cards. She knew the levies would soon break, letting it all just flood in. Then I’ll know the whole story, she thought.

  “Yeah,” she whispered aloud.

  Rubbing her temples and starting to feel the full effect she almost wished he was there to knock her out again.

  “Right,” Lily said remembering Rick had hit her, more than once if remembered correctly.

  Trying not think to hard she tried piecing together parts of their argument, but was stumped on how it had begun. Only that he knocked her out to end it.

  Chuckling to herself that being knocked out could have been her little silver lining she rolled over. Which abruptly ended the little silver lining chuckle and began the chuckling of painful self-awareness. “You don’t have to move yet girlfriend,” she said to herself. Or at least she thought she did, or did she just think it? It really didn’t seem important so Lily just let it go.

  How long have I been out? An hour, a day, she wondered. What did we fight over this time?

  “Ha, fight,” she blurted hoarsely bringing a sharp new pain to the party. Thinking that if their fight was televised as a UFC event not only would people have been extremely disappointed but they would most likely have demanded their money back. Her feeble attempts to block a punch were not the makings of top ten replays on ESPN.

  How hard did he hit me?

  Her back was tingling as little bits of hurt started sprouting up all over it. Turning her head she felt a tight burning around her neck that seemed to be tightening like a screw into the wall.

  How much more could there be? Lily wondered.

  Finally realizing the blur was actually the bathroom light she now wondered if it was day or night. Sighing because she knew there was only one way to find out, Lily let a few moments pass until curiosity gnawed at her enough.

  Fluttering her right eye it felt as if it had tiny little weights hanging from the lid. “Shit,” she said realizing something was wrong with her right eye. Lying still for a moment Lily finally remembered.

  Of course something is wrong with my right eye, that’s where he landed his left fist, she reminded herself and began to open her left one.

  It was heavy but it was more of an exhausted heavy. Gazing into the room she was only able to make out obscured objects that were foggy and muddy looking.

  She remembered the argument began in the living room. Trying to recall the events as they came to an end was a little harder to remember, but she tried.

  Tussle – tussle hit, stagger back, caught balance – hit, stagger again, lose balance and fall.

  Sighing she came to the conclusion that it ended in the living room. He must have put her in bed after knocking her out where she could lay unconscious in comfort. “How sweet,” she whispered sarcastically.

  Opening and closing her one able eye repeatedly trying to bring it into focus she took a deep breath. “This is getting old,” she exhaled, still unable to make anything out clearly.

  TWO:

  In Italy

  Walking along the rooftop Yaroslav struggled to see past the sheets of rain slamming past him and exploding on the clay tiles under his feet. He searched every shadow for anything out of place. Sniffing the air and hoping to catch a scent, he was only able to smell the salt from the sea.

  He began to run silently until coming to the end of the roof, then leapt through the air. From roof top to roof top he leapt and ran along them as if his feet did not even touch the tiles, but rather hovered slightly above them.

  He stooped suddenly causing his trench coat to flap outwards. Catching his long coat the wind made it flutter while millions of tiny droplets erupted in chorus all around him.

  Yaroslav knew he had to be here or maybe he was just hunting the hope?

  "Would he run?" he wondered to himself, then shook the notion out of his head. Then he heard it, ever so faint but so obviously out of place.

  Realizing Nathan was on the move Yaroslav pierced through the storm and searched. Catching intermittent sounds he knew Nathan was already ten steps ahead and from what he could pinpoint and there was no real pattern to his movement that he could follow.

  He could only surmise that his target was moving incredibly fast.

  Twitching his nose left and then right he suddenly got a fix on it. Picking up the scent also meant Nathan was closing in. He stood almost as nervous as he was excited. “I have come long way my fr
iend,” the thick Ukrainian accent announced. His eyes feverishly seeking out an image to go with the essence that was starting to surround him.

  His long black coat had become heavier as he stood soaking up the rain. “My name is Yaroslav the Grand Prince, Yaroslav the Wise … maybe you hear of me?” he called out.

  Then, from the darkness came a reply, “I have read your name in the history books.”

  Yaroslav turned his eyes slightly and caught a silhouette in the shadows. “Nathanial,” he whispered triumphantly.

  THREE:

  The Resurrection Continues

  With the left eye now open and almost seeing clearly, Lily began working on the right. Gently putting her finger on it she cringed in pain and could tell it was raw and swollen.

  "The blunt force of his fist to my eye socket must have burst open every capillary I have because it is causing some severe hemorrhaging," she whispered softly, then laughed out loud. “I can't believe I not only know those words, but I fricking know what they mean,” she said with a hint of proud. “God bless Google.”

  Calming down from feeling so delighted in finding something so funny in something so repeatedly horrible, she looked around the room with her one good eye. Mirror intact, so no seven years of bad luck, she thought.

  “Thank God, how much more bad luck can I endure?” she asked herself and continued assessing. It didn't seem like any dressers needed repair, or that she needed to hold another Teddy Bear funeral (A ritual of standing above her, and ripping apart a childhood memory was not an every fight occurrence, but a satisfying one for Rick when performed). Not wanting to hold her breath, but it actually gave her hope that maybe the kitchen and living room fared well.

  Noticing it was dark past the window Lily leaned out from the bed to peek outside, where she saw it was still dark. Turning towards the alarm clock trying to ignore the sharp pain in her neck she saw the obscured red digital lights. Not giving her any clue of the time since they just sat there on her clock like a big fat red blur, she decided she had no choice but to give herself more time.

  Taking a deep breath she pushed herself up.

  The pain came swift and sharp and Lily quickly surrendered to the pain and sat back down.

  Cowering she knew she obviously jumped ahead of herself and decided to just sit and let the pain settle, then she would concentrate on something a little easier. Deciding to go back to the basics, Lily began slowly blinking her one good eye and work on getting the damn muddiness to dissipate.

  Then, like the sun rises to begin the dawn, her vision began to come back (in her left eye of course), and the room began to focus around her. It seemed to give her a new sense of confidence. “Come on Lily,” she coaxed as she pushed herself from the bed. This time she yelped in pain and bent over slightly as agony raked across her back. She didn't have to see it or touch it to diagnose her entire back was bruised from half way up her butt cheeks to the beginning of her neck. Her newly found confidence deflated quickly since she knew everything from here on forward was going to be extremely painful.

  “Why do I push him?” She asked herself and almost wished she could spare her good eye because she wanted to punch it. Already promising herself three times before that this would be the last time, Lily was here once again beaten and bruised, pathetically blaming herself for “Pushing him”.

  Suddenly she wondered where "He" was.

  “I guess I should have just left him alone,” she said a little louder, but this time she meant to be louder. Wanting to be heard just in case Rick was still at home so he could hear her. This would make it sound like she was sorry and taking the blame for last night's events.

  Listening for any sound to indicate he was home she could not hear any movement, not even snoring. Usually if he was home, she would hear the television, but even that was mute.

  So, Lily safely assumed from the sound of silence he had left for the night. This was something he did frequently and something she cared less and less about until finally she began hoping for it, fighting or not.

  Trying to bring some moisture to the dryness in her mouth, Lily began to lick at her lips hoping to start a chain reaction. Then, she could taste stale blood and knew she had to work through the pain to make it to the bathroom, where she could clean up and assess the damage a bit better.

  Wonder if my health plan covers this, she thought sarcastically, then frowned as the thought reminded her about Todd and Martin. Her two best friends that were also her bosses and they were going to be all over her, again.

  They wanted her to move in with them ages ago, but Lily always found an excuse not to. Lately she has been practically living there...

  And there it was. That was the start of the argument, she remembered recalling Rick yelling that she should be home with him and not with those two “Fags” as he liked to call them.

  Lily thought Todd would probably get Martin to actually shoot Rick if she didn't leave him this time. And, since Martin served in the Marines and actually kept a gun in the store, he just might.

  She decided first things first. “Come on Lily,” she cheered and began her painful shuffle to self-assessment.

  FOUR:

  Round One

  Nathan finally walked out of the cover of darkness and into the open. He was young and handsome and nothing like Yaroslav was expecting.

  “You are Nathanial?” Yaroslav asked.

  Nathan smiled and nodded.

  Yaroslav laughed deep and heavy, “But you are little baby.”

  Nathan suddenly felt a little offended. “I am over two hundred years old sir.”

  He held up his hand trying to make himself stop. “I apologize,” he said calming down a bit. “I hear stories of this Chakan, with the power of all five rings ... A Warrior.”

  Caught off guard Nathan tried to correct him over the noise of the rain, “I never made such a claim.”

  Yaroslav continued without hearing him. “Stories of slaughter and murder and I pray, pray I find such a foe,” he said then paused while looking Nathan up and down. Then, he began to laugh again, “Then I find little bitty baby.”

  Stretching his arms out Nathan tried to look himself over. “I wouldn't call myself a baby.”

  “Sorry, sorry,” Yaroslav stuttered. “Tiny kitty-with claws,” he said erupting with amusement.

  Nathan knew he was only trying to coax him into getting angry and lose his cool, which he did not. But it didn't make it any easier or any less annoying. “I apologize if you find me disappointing.”

  Yaroslav waved his hand over his own laughter. “Tell me little kitty, do you have big sharp teeth? Or do you still have little kitten teeth? Maybe you like to gnaw on ball of yarn,” he said patting his pockets down as if he might have some yarn. Pretending that he did, Yaraslov led the imaginary string around the ground smiling as if Nathan would begin chasing it.

  “You're really starting to piss me off, Russian,” he said already abandoning his non-threatening humble approach.

  Yaroslav stopped laughing. Taking Nathan's words as an insult, he accepted the challenge. Throwing his shoulders forward to make room for his body to widen his bones cracked and sang out in unison. Becoming bulkier he clenched his hands creating an explosion of crackles and pops while his mouth began to spasm. Saliva started to pool in his mouth and slide down his chin.

  Backing up slowly, Nathan realized he may have to resort to plan B.

  FIVE:

  A Picture Is Worth a 1000 Words

  Standing in front of her full-length mirror in the bathroom touching her swollen right eye gingerly and wincing, Lily could not help but question its authenticity. “It looks fake,” she said examining it. Deciding to test the theory she touched it a little harder. Crying out instantly, she fanned her hand in front of it chuckling at her own stupidity. “Oh you stupid twat,” she said then giggled and put her hand over her mouth. “I don't think I ever called myself a twat before,” Lily said trying to remember if she watched any BBC recently.


  Still amused she reached for the face cloth lying on the facet and recoiled while her back screamed in pain. Moving closer to the sink by way of baby steps she allowed the hot water to drown the cloth.

  Taking the cloth that was beginning to dam up the bowl she began to pat it over her lips. Gingerly she guided it over the stale blood and then cautiously over the large bubble that formed on the part of her lip. Noticing the stains went in two directions Lily finished off the chin area and then pursued a little that splattered across her cheek. Running the cloth under the water again, she noticed a blood trail leading down her neck.

  Then Lily caught it in the corner of the mirror. Her almost perfect red bloody hand print seemed to wave at her from the white wall behind her. Was it from just now or was she in her earlier? Was it saying good-bye or welcoming her back?

  Staring at herself in the mirror, she decided to give the reflection a smile and took pity at the swollen face smiling back.

  “Don't want to see you no more,” she said suddenly feeling sad.

  It was time to leave, and she felt that she was abandoning the poor battered girl in the mirror. Lily started to cry.

  The man she followed to Chicago and believed every empty promise was not the one to blame. You can believe other people's lies all the time, but you can never believe your own. Then she wondered if she ever even loved him. Did she love him when he would put her down in front of their friends? Or when he came on to her girlfriends? Becoming so bad that she stopped hanging out with girls completely and since hanging out with men wasn't an option she quickly found herself alone. Until she got a job with Todd and Martin that is.

  Rick did not feel threatened by them, but that didn't stop him from making fun of them all the time, especially because they were gay. With his equally ignorant drinking buddies spurring him on, his comments were so hurtful to the point that it made Lily ashamed knowing that she barely said anything in their defense.