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I hear the yells and screams around me. I think the girl he was in here with even starts crying. I feel someone clawing at my back, trying to pull me off of him. Yet, all I see is Slater and red.
I don’t even know how I end up straddling him, but I have him pinned to the ground. He’s saying something, but blood is coming out of his mouth, garbling his words. That and the fact that he’s now using both of his forearms to shield his head and face from my punches.
“Move your fucking hands!” I scream. “You weren’t cowering like a bitch when you had your hands around her throat, were you?”
I completely lose my shit on him. I don’t know what’s happening around me, who’s touching me, who’s calling the police or what. All I know is that it’s this motherfucker’s turn to die. I barely notice the fact that he’s passed out.
The continuing rise and fall of his chest lets me know there’s still work to be done.
The fact that he’s breathing is unacceptable to me.
Unfortunately, I’m not given time to finish the job.
“Put your hands up!” I hear shouted around me.
I don’t bother to look. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind I conclude that the police have arrived.
Even that doesn't stop me, though.They’ll have to pry me off of this bastard.
That’s exactly what they do.
It takes somewhere around three police officers to pull me off of an unconscious Slater. Even still, I’m kicking, yanking and fighting to get back to him. He’s still alive.
“I’m not finished with him!” I yell at anyone standing in between me and him.
I don’t know how, but somehow the police wrangle me away from Slater and out of the room. I don’t notice the bite of pain that clinches my wrists as the handcuffs are slapped onto me.
Paramedics rush past us in the opposite direction to get to him. I do my best to trip them to stop them from giving that fucker any type of medical care. He doesn’t deserve it.
“Son, you need to calm down,” one of the officers says in my ears.
“I’m not your fucking son!” I seethe.
My father would know why I’m doing this. But he isn’t around. Not yet. I know there’s no way my parents aren’t going to be here soon. If I don’t get the chance to call them, someone else will.
Even that realization doesn’t pull me back from the brink of my rage. I still want that motherfucker’s head on a stick. All I keep seeing are the bruises around Monique’s neck and it ignites my ire all over again.
“Fuck him,” I shout over and over.
As I claw and fight the officers to get back to finish the job, a sharp, slicing pain pushes throughout my entire body. My muscles seize up. I can no longer fight the officers. My body isn’t my own.
“Oh my god. They tased him!” someone yells in the distance.
I can’t respond to anything or anyone. Everything goes black.
CHAPTER17
Monique
“Attempted murder?” I hear Diego’s mother say as soon as I enter the police station.
It took me a while to find out which police station he was brought to. The campus police transferred Diego over to the local police.
I only found all of this out because Diego’s mother called me frantic, asking if I was okay. Apparently, Diego had called his parents with his one phone call. They arrived within a couple of hours.
“Oh, Monique,” Diego’s exhausted looking mother says as I fully enter the station. I glance around, hoping my parents are nowhere to be found. They likely would’ve called me if they knew about this.
I know my mom and dad would be right here alongside Diego’s parents. But they can’t know about any of this. I can’t let them find out why Diego went berserk on Slater.
