WEEK 31: What are you doing?

Prompted by: Amanda Siegrist

“You came.”

“I said I would.”

“Didn’t think he’d let you.”

Men.

They’re all the same. Every last one. All the fucking same.

Bastards.

“Nobody owns me, Dice.”

Glancing down at my hand, he didn’t even attempt to mask the jealous edge in his words, “Looks like somebody does.”

I shrugged impassively.

He could say whatever the hell he wanted. I wasn’t trying to hide the simple platinum ring wrapped around my finger. Not that I could’ve even if I wanted to. Seeing as how it was anchored down by a matching band with the sparkliest rock of fucking Gibraltar mounted on top.

Anyone within a 50-foot radius could see it clear as day. Unless they’d already been blinded by the damn thing and couldn’t see shit anymore.

“It’s a shame I wasn’t invited to the wedding.”

Was he there?

“You made such a stunning bride.”

Of course, he was there.

“I got hard just watching you marry the fucker.”

Creep.

When I didn’t reply, he gestured to the empty seat and ordered, “Sit.”

“No, thanks.”

“Sit,” he repeated calmly. “We have a lot to talk about.”

“Actually, we have nothing to talk about.”

Icy blue eyes narrowed to slits.

I forged on, “I only came to say goodbye.”

His jaw ticked. “Excuse me?”

Zero hesitation, “I told him.”

He shot to his feet, his chair sent toppling to the ground. “You told him what?”

“Everything.”

Silence.

Eerie, disturbing, scary-as-fuck silence.

But I wasn’t scared.

I didn’t back down. I didn’t even waver. Instead, I stood my ground and greeted evil incarnate head-on without fear. Because I wasn’t afraid. Not even in the slightest.

How could I be with Satan himself on my side?

“You stupid little bitch,” he finally growled, a large hand whipping out to seize the back of my neck.

“Let go, you fool.”

He didn’t. “Do you really think you can betray our family like this?”

“Family?” I laughed. The notion was beyond ridiculous. “Let go before you get yourself killed.”

Chuckling, he tightened his hold. “He’s watching us.”

It wasn’t a question. I answered regardless, “Of course.”

“Good,” he chuckled again and stepped closer. His other hand gripped my chin, tipping it upward. “I want him to see this.”

“What are you doing?”

His lips hovered suggestively over mine. “Taking what I want.”

“You’re going to get shot,” I warned.

“He would never risk hitting you.”

“I’m not worried,” I fired back with absolute confidence. My husband might be a bona fide asshole but he was a mother-fucking sniper too. His ever-rising body count was proof enough of that. Not to mention, I knew he’d protect me with his life.

And besides, I loved him with every fiber of my being. Every last ounce of my soul. So the truth was, “I’d gladly die for him anyway.”

Another flicker of jealousy before, “He’d gladly die for you too.”

I tensed immediately.

“And he will.”

There was something in his tone.

“Because you’re his weakness.”

That made my hair stand on end.

“You’ve always been mine as well.”

A chill ran down my spine.

“Our degenerate father kept you to himself for all those years.”

Bile rose in my throat.

“It’s my turn now.”

I swallowed it down and hissed, “Keep dreaming, you sick pervert.”

“You’ll do exactly what I say,” he continued huskily as a smug grin slowly crept its way across a set of ridiculously handsome features.

I wanted to slap it off the douchebag’s face. And I would’ve. With a closed fist. Except what he said next…

“Because that baby is your weakness.”

Obliterated my universe into stardust. Into complete fucking nothingness.

Muscular arms caught me as my legs gave way.

Then my brother crushed his mouth to mine.

And I let him.

With my husband watching…

“Iz.”

A familiar voice jerked me out of the past. Right back to the present.

My brother-in-law still hadn’t moved from the doorway. He was still covered in blood. I might still lose my husband.

Again.

“We need to go.”

What’s the prompt for next week, guys? 

Make suggestions below. 7 words or less.

13 thoughts on “WEEK 31: What are you doing?

  1. Very intriguing! And I love how longer they’re getting! More, please:)

    Oh, and it was my prompt this week. Yay!

    Prompt:
    Cupcake, you done?

    1. *bows all gentlewomanly-like*

      Ask and you shall receive (next week), My Queen! And thank you kindly for the prompt. That could easily be warped into something sadistic…

      *sadistic laugh*

      See? 😛

      Hugs,
      Ann

      1. Hehe…I thought you could. *wink* Sadistic works.

        I made cupcakes today. And they’re done. Hahaha…see where the prompt came from. 😂

          1. Hmmm… I don’t. Sorry.

            And I’m even trying to think of a great prompt now for you and my brain is malfunctioning. Need coffee, stat!

  2. Well now, things are getting bloody in addition to visceral and dirty, I see!

    Prompt for next week:

    The walls would look better with your brainmatter on them!

    1. I didn’t wanna get predictable with just visceral and dirty haha!

      Thanks a buncharoos for the bloody, messy prompt, Mr Matt! My fave flavor of jam 😉

      Hugs,
      Ann

      P.S. – If we pick this sucker, I’m shortening it to “Walls look better (splattered?) with brain matter” or something to that effect. Don’t kill me. Unless you’re gonna write about it…

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