Page 16 of Brutal Prince

“I guess,” he yawned.

I reread the message and replied with a ‘yes’ proceeding to send Mom a message to make sure she’s okay. It was only 9.30pm, she’d still be awake watching TV.

Mom: I’m fine, love. Have your fun. Don’t worry about me.

Me: Okay (:

Mom: You’ve got a good catch there, pet.

I glanced at Ollie, his large frame stretched out like a sleeping giant. The whites of his eyes caught the light of my phone giving him a slightly sinister appearance that only got my juices going.

Me: I know.

“Looks like mom doesn’t need me after all,” I whispered, crawling along the bed on my hands and knees up to him and started kissing his chest.

“Nice,” he breathed as his big warm hand found my butt cheek over my pants. “I think we need to get rid of these,” peeling off my clothes again for another round.

EIGHT

Gretta

I sat in the edge of my bed with the bullet resting on my thigh, so seemingly small and insignificant.

He cut the bullet out of my father’s heart and walked casually away as if murder laid no claim to his soul. He was blackened long before that moment and walks happily down the halls of purgatory now. But this wasn’t in death but in life, his life, my life.

There was no way to be certain that this was the same bullet and if he was trying frighten me, it wasn’t working. However, I was curious to know why he’d keep it for all this time. A stubborn stupid part of me longed to hear him say that I meant something to him back then. Not now. Now, I wanted him to die. A killer will be always be a killer and even if he did love me, I still yearned to put an end to the living hell he created. And there’s only one way to do that.

I heard Mom call from the living room and dropped the bullet back in the ring box, hiding it in my third drawer. The drawer that’s hard to open, due to the worn wood. One day I might tell her that I knew all along who killed Dad and one day I might tell her that the person who crushed our hearts was nothing but a damaged boy himself.

I flicked my head when water dribbled into my eyes from my wet hair after having a shower, washing Ollie’s scent from my skin. I lurched when I could still feel him between my legs, drilling into my abdomen, and hoped that feeling won’t fade for some time.

Out in the living room, Mom had dropped the TV remote and it skidded under the bed. After crawling under the bed to retrieve it, I caught a mischievous expression on my mother’s face. Those blue eyes of hers were so full of life and love, and most importantly mischief. Such a damn pity she rarely left the house.

“What?”

“Are you going to tell me about your date with the effervescent Ollie?”

“I don’t know if I’d call him effervescent.”

“I want details, please,” she demanded, lacing her fingers together and resting them on her enormous bosom, too large for a bra.

I gasped, feigning horror. “I shall not divulge such things to my mother.”

“Did you get laid?”

I squealed, “I’m not saying a thing.”

“You did, didn’t you?”

“Mom!”

She raised her hands into the air, gazing up at some invisible image on the ceiling. “Hallelujah, there is a God after all. My daughter’s legs got spread.”

“Mom,” I scolded.

She waved her hand as if brushing a fly away. “C’mon Gerty,” my mom’s pet name for me that she’s sworn to never use outside of the house, luckily she never leaves the house, “You’re beautiful, he’s handsome and…”, she pursed her lips, “I noticed how hard his arm muscle are when he lifted me back to bed. Oooh wee. Is he well hung?”

I groaned. “I’m not saying a thing.”

---