The Pale: Volume One by Jacob Long (portable ebook reader txt) 📕

path for himself here and there, so focused on his objective that he didn’t even realize he was exerting superfluous force on pedestrians who did not deserve it. Their complaints barely reached his ears.

Adam ascended the steps with purpose, his gaze locked unerringly on the head of the stairs and the doorman who had returned to his post. Halfway up the stairs, the doorman noticed Adam approaching. He seemed to lament his station in life briefly, and then he began descending the iron stairwell to meet Adam.

The doorman held up his hand. “This area is not for patrons, sir. I’m going to have to ask you to return to the floor.”

“I’m going to get Téa,” Adam said simply.

The doorman looked surprised, exactly the effect Adam was hoping to achieve.

“Yeah. Téa. That’s that girl’s name. I know her, and I know she’s in there with that creep.”

The doorman sighed, and his eyes broke contact with Adam. The man was fighting past his conscience, and Adam could tell his next sentence would be a lie before the man started speaking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir. The owner just stepped out for a smoke, and there’s no one left in there.”

The lie worked quickly on Adam’s raw nerves. “Man, I get that you have a job to do and everything. I know a thing or two about orders, but, man, don’t lie to me. I already said I know she’s in there.”

The doorman still wasn’t looking Adam in the eye. He shook his head and looked out over the dance floor.

Adam pressed. “Look, there’s some bad shit going on up there. I could call the police. I’m sure that’s attention that you don’t need, but if you just let me go up there and get her, I will forget about the whole thing. What do you say?”

The doorman’s facial expressions indicated his struggles only worsening, but he was taking too long to decide.

“Come on, man! We’re on a time frame!” Adam waited only another half second before he made the decision for the doorman. He moved to go past, but the doorman pressed a strong hand against Adam’s chest.

“I told you, sir. I can’t let you—”

In a flash of rage and impatience, Adam grabbed the doorman’s errant hand and squeezed it in his palm. He couldn’t hear the cracking over the music, but he could feel the bones give way in a fashion they were not meant to, accompanied by the sensation of soft, unpleasant popping. The doorman maintained enough of his manhood to not scream outright, but he clenched his teeth and fell to one knee, groaning.

Adam was surprised. Using only the power of his grip, he’d managed to crush the man’s hand. He was stronger than he’d given himself credit. Adam looked at the doorman’s flushed face. He’d probably already successfully intimidated the hapless doorman, but Adam felt the need to drive the point home.

“Stay out of my way!” Adam growled menacingly.

He released the doorman’s hand and continued stalking up the stairs.

Davy had excited himself to a point just short of salivating. He’d been touching Téa’s unconscious form all over, sampling her soft, feminine skin, even daring to slip his hands under her small shirt to caress the tender flesh of her abdomen. On each foray into this forbidden area, he explored higher. He lavished in the excruciating and exquisite escalation. The self-denial only enhanced the fantasy. He’d probably already become excited enough to pleasure himself thoroughly later when he would ruminate on the experience, but it was time for the big reveal.

The young dealer hooked both of his hands under Téa’s shirt. He took a sharp breath and held it, then slowly hiked the shirt up. Every inch of the young woman’s flat, pale tummy he uncovered was like a crescendo of epic music. His heart swelled with the orchestra, and his mouth hung more and more agape. He inhaled a slow gasp, further stretching his already full lungs.

At the top of Téa’s tummy was revealed a small black bra with yellow polka dots. This actually puzzled Davy a little. What a strange style choice. The pattern was kind of garish. She hardly needed a bra anyways.

It was quirky.

He loved it.

Davy finally let his pent-up breath escape gradually. He would need his lungs free for the next big step. He pinched the cups of the childish bra and lifted them off the unconscious girl’s breasts. No matter how many pairs Davy saw using this method, it never grew old. Each pair of breasts was like a flower he’d never smelled, and they evoked their own unique set of emotions. Now, Téa’s were small, a byproduct of being so scrawny; Davy had already known that would be the case, but to him, they were beautiful because in that moment they were his. The nipples became immediately peaked in the open air, and his mouth really did begin watering at the thought of his first instinct.

Davy was lowering his lips toward his new prize when the office door rattled. That damn Rick was already back. Damn him! Davy pulled away from the girl’s nudity in shame, standing and turning to the entrance. The door rattled again. Someone had tried the doorknob and did so again, this time pressing their full weight against the door. Rick had a key, and that fact made Davy wonder what was really coming into the room.

Adam was not pressing his weight against the door. He held the knob and pressed with one-arm superhuman strength and just a dash of determination fueled by rage and concern. The door stressed against the frame, but Adam, teeth clenched, could not apply enough force to break the lock with just one arm. No matter. Adam was a major league door-kicker, powers or not.

Adam braced himself with the iron railing and struck the point just left of the doorknob with one sharp kick. The bolt erupted through the doorframe on the opposite side, and the door swung open energetically, smacking against the doorstop on the other side. Adam breezed through the fresh opening like a hero come to save the day. Only Adam didn’t feel like a hero. He was maddened with a rage that only seemed to boil at higher and higher temperatures with every second that passed, and then God help him, he took in the scene.

The champion’s eyes focused quickly on the Asian kid standing near the center of the room. He looked appropriately spooked. Adam followed the shape of the kid’s outline down to the couch he stood near. On the couch was his friend, Téa, only not like Adam had ever seen her. She had been drugged and violated. Her shirt had been hiked up under her arms, revealing her slight, vulnerable frame and pale nubile complexion. Worse yet, her bra had been pulled askew from her breasts. Just as Adam had thought, that monster had dragged Téa up to a private room for his sick pleasure.

Adam’s temperature rose even further, and he glared at Davy murderously. His best friend was not a plaything, and no one hurts her and gets away with it.

Davy was startled at first. The man who had kicked his way into the room looked pissed. He immediately considered that he may have drugged the wrong girl, but then that old arrogance and sense of entitlement reared its ugly head. “What the hell do you want, huh? Where the fuck is the guard? There’s supposed to be someone at the door!”

Adam hardly even heard what the twerp had said. He stomped toward Davy, his muscles bulging and primed for teaching lessons.

Davy recoiled. “What are you doing, man? You better not do anything, or my broth—”

His sentence was punctuated with a yelp as Adam grabbed him by his collar with both hands. Adam brutishly overwhelmed the young man and punched him once in the gut. All the air was knocked out of Davy’s lungs in an instant, and he wanted to puke. Adam quickly followed up by tossing Davy into the nearest wall. Davy left the ground completely before slapping against the wall like a piece of bologna.

Adam could have stopped there. A part of him understood that. It told him to leave the poor, dumb kid alone. It told him to turn around and see if Téa was all right, to see if she needed help, but it was almost like his legs had a mind of their own. He stalked over to Davy’s coiled form and delivered a swift toe kick to the dirty molesting drug dealer’s ribs. Davy cried out, but his voice was lost amid the din of heavy metal. All he could do was curl into a tighter fetal position as another kick struck his side, and then another.

Adam had never been so angry in his life. It sliced through his every thought like a hot blade. He wanted only to hurt, to punish. It was as simple as that. There was no meaning beyond that. There was no goal to achieve. Adam understood that somewhere in his head, but it was almost like he wasn’t in control and someone else was kicking the kid.

Suddenly, a new threat captured Adam’s attention. He heard a loud, angry voice approaching from the stairwell. It became gradually clearer until the man speaking pushed open the office door that hung ajar. It was the guy in the snazzy shirt back from his smoke break.

“I pay you very well to do one very simple task: keep these psychos away from my front door. And look. Look at this shit. What is this?” He lamented the condition of what he called his “front door.” After he pushed his way inside, Rick immediately noticed the stoic man standing over the crumpled body of Davy Truong. The orange stadium lights swept behind the Latino intruder, momentarily obscuring most of his features but highlighting the peculiar luminescence of his green eyes. He stared arrogantly at Rick, as if the typically imposing club owner were made of glass.

Of course, Rick wasn’t worried about Adam. He was worried about what Adam had done to Davy in his office. The elder Truong would be furious at Rick. Never mind that he didn’t do anything. Just the fact that it had happened while he was in Davy’s vicinity was enough. Joshua Truong would hold Rick responsible, and he worried about what that would mean for him, his business, and his health.

“Step away from him,” Rick ordered. When Adam didn’t move even a fraction of an inch, Rick opened his stance inquisitively and paced toward Adam. “Now what the hell is this? You come in here, you rough up my employees? You break my things? You hurt my . . . friends? Not smart, little rat. Not too smart at all.” Rick stuck his finger in Adam’s hostile face. “You have just earned yourself one free toss out of here on your ass.” He turned to the doorman and snapped his fingers. “Warren. Get this guy.”

The doorman, still absentmindedly massaging his hand, sheepishly approached Adam for another confrontation. Adam saw the doorman was able to move his fingers. He was pleased to see he hadn’t completely shattered all the bones inside.

Flatly, Adam asked the doorman, “Do you really want to make this mistake a second time?”

Warren halted in his approach and looked almost pleadingly back at his employer. Rick couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “What are you waiting for?”

This forced Warren to swallow down his pride and better sense with one dry gulp. He readied himself as Adam stared him down menacingly. Adam wasn’t even facing the doorman. He didn’t look ready for a fight at all. That was the worst part. That was what Warren found most intimidating. Oh well.

Warren reached for Adam’s right hand and shoulder blade, hoping to start and end the fight by pinning Adam’s arm. It would also save his injured hand. The practiced motion was quick and effective. Adam, in his arrogance, did not defend himself properly or in a timely fashion. The doorman applied quick and firm pressure to Adam’s stiff arm, bending it the wrong way. Adam tried to move around and release the pressure, but Warren’s sure expertise allowed him to maintain that pressure, chasing Adam in a circle. Adam tried to move faster and use his power to escape, but the maneuver was designed precisely to foil an enemy with superior strength. Adam’s speed and power were used against him. The more Adam put into escaping, the more he ceded control of his body to the doorman. Warren forced Adam to one knee with Adam’s arm hyperextended behind him.

Adam grimaced and a long grunt of exertion escaped his clenched teeth. He strained against the strength and leverage of the doorman, but to no avail.

“This guy has to be on something,” Warren stressed. Adam was exerting more force than Warren thought possible from his position and taking all the related pain. His opponent should have been on the ground begging for mercy.

Rick moseyed over to the combatants and leaned over to Adam’s ear. “Stop fighting. You’re only making things harder on yourself. Now be a good