Prompted by: Tara Woods Turner
Have you ever woken up in the trunk of a moving vehicle before?
Well, that’s exactly what I’m doing right now. With my mouth gagged and my wrists bound together behind my back.
You think I should be panic-stricken. Losing my shit. Praying to God. Bawling my eyes out hysterically. Like a proper damsel in distress. And you might be right…
Except I’m the furthest thing from a damsel and I don’t feel the least bit distressed.
The only thing I feel is pissed off.
I can’t believe he chloroformed me.
I can’t believe he actually fucking chloroformed me.
Oh, and did I forget to mention I know who the driver is?
Because I do.
In fact, I know every single last detail about him.
The deadly type of dangerous.
I’m not being melodramatic. If anything, I’m downplaying it. I’ve seen him kill people without a second thought. He even shot a man inches away from my face once.
He’s a sick, twisted psycho.
Then again, considering how I’d felt nothing but satisfaction as the warm blood splattered across my cheek…
Maybe I’m equally sick and just as twisted.
That asshole deserved to die.
All assholes deserve to die.
This asshole deserves to die too.
Of course, he’d say the same thing about me.
You see, I betrayed him in the worst way possible and he hasn’t forgiven me yet. I know he hasn’t. He never will.
Forgiveness isn’t in his wheelhouse.
Revenge is the name of his game.
And he always plays death as the trump card.
So I’m not safe.
There’s a pretty good chance he’ll end up killing me.
But not today.
Not like this.
He’s still my husband after all.
What’s the prompt for next week, guys?
Make suggestions below. 7 words or less.