We Only Come Out At Night

Chapter Eight

It been a few days since I had last seen the boys. David didn't lie to me when he said I could come and go as I pleased. He also didn't lie to me about never being alone and never having to worry about the Surfer Nazis.

A few nights ago I had been walking down the same alley I always did. The normal one I took to get to the church. Now I know the Max said I could stay with him and the boys said I always had a place there but I didn't want to be a burden or for it to be awkward. I mean last time I was there they all ended up kissing me at one time or another... David's words kept replaying in my head when I thought about it... live, think, and love freely... What did he mean? It's okay to kiss them all? It's okay to slut around? It's okay to live the hippie life? Do drugs and bury yourself in orgies? I imagine that's how Paul dreams about living his life, as long as he can. I can't really blame him though. 'It'd be a good life,' I can't help but laugh to myself.

I always thought about them when they weren't around. I think they knew it too. The small smiles I'd get from Marko, the waves from Paul, nods from Dwayne, and smirk from David said it all. They knew I thought about them constantly; it was like I couldn't get them out of my head. It was doing cocaine all over again; they were additive. I wanted to go back to the cave but I was afraid it'd be too weird like I said. I wanted to belong somewhere.

"Yo hippie bitch," a voice pulled me from my thoughts.

I didn't turn, I just ran. Through the alley and toward the street but I was tripped by a psycho in a Hawaiian shirt with a shitty mullet.

"Thought you could run, huh bitch," the voice had turned cold, lowering an octave.

I saw more feet approaching and I screamed. I screamed as loud as I could but was cut short with a swiftly kick to my gut from that beach bum asshole from the other night. Multiple hands grabbed me and pulled me upright, before throwing me into the wall. A click of a switchblade echoed in the alleyway.

"Now you're not going to scream again are you sweetheart?" Donovan laughed as he pressed the blade gently into my cheek.

I glared, lip curled before spitting right in his eye. Blinding him gave me enough time to kick him in the stomach as hard as I could before one of his minions threw a left hook to my eye. My head bounced off the wall and I heard ringing in my ears.

"Nasty little slut," he growled, grabbing me by hair and throwing me to the ground. "I'm going to teach you what happens to people who fuck with the Surfer Nazis."

He used his body to hold me down while he took his switchblade and carved something in my skin. My screams didn't last long and I could barely hear them over his laughs.

"Donovan, what did I tell you about touching things that weren't yours?" A familiar voice growled as my screams became whimpers.

"Oh David. David. David. I hate when you interrupt me conducting official Surfer Nazi business," the brunette over my scowled.

"Cassandra, first chance you get, run straight to the church. Understood?" David's voice was low and deathly calm.

I nodded through tears, putting pressure to the newfound cuts on my left hip. A snarl erupted from David, almost like a lion snarls. Donovan was ripped from the ground and thrown against the wall by David. Suddenly almost as if they can from the shadows; Marko, Paul, and Dwayne appeared, each taking one of the guys trying to stop David.

"Go Cassandra!" David yelled as I steadily got to my feet, and turned to run away, never looking back.

The next I saw Donovan it was during the day. I never saw his gang again, just him. He was incredibly pale, sweating constantly, and had an older woman with him.