Page 126 of Carnal Urges
The air around her head shimmers with a rage bordering oninsanity. I expect her eyes to pop from her head. She looks like she’s channeling the ghost of Charles Manson.
She walks to where I’m standing and slaps me across the face.
When my head stops spinning, I look at her and grin.
“How dare you smile at me, you son of a bitch.”
“Is that a rhetorical question? I thought you didn’t like those.”
“I’ve been sitting here thinking you were dead!”
“No, not me. Just the heads of all the other syndicates. Except Kazimir. I kept him alive because you asked me to.”
She sucks in a breath so hard it’s like she’s trying not to drown. Her face screws up and turns red.
I think because she doesn’t know what else to do, she slaps me again.
I grab her and kiss her, hard.
She bursts into tears. “You asshole! I hate you! I hate you!”
“I know, baby,” I say, chuckling and holding her tight. “You hate my bloody guts. Except you don’t. You’re crazy about me. You’re so in love with me, you cried because I’m alive.”
Sobbing into my shoulder, she pounds a fist on my chest.
I whisper into her ear, “Sweet girl. My fierce little lion queen. Give me your mouth.”
She sniffles and whimpers as I kiss her, clinging to me like she’ll never let go.
I’ve never been happier in my entire life than right now, in this moment.
Until she pushes me away, that is.
She turns and walks away with her hands on her head, growling in aggravation.
I watch her walk slow circles around the room, inhaling deep breaths, then blowing them out slowly. She wipes her cheeks with shaking hands and walks more circles. When she’s regained self-control, she stops and looks at me.
“Thank you for Kazimir. And fuck you for leaving me hanging. Don’t ever do that to me again.”
“I won’t.”
“Good. Jesus Christ, I think I’m having a stroke. What happens now?”
“Now I wait until your girlfriend’s man calls me for a sit-down to discuss a cease-fire.”
“How do you know he’ll call?”
“That’s the only way he’ll be able to get me in a room so he can try to kill me.”
After a beat, she says, “It’s always going to be like this, isn’t it?”
“Aye. That’s the life. War. Death. Kill or be killed. Now you see why I’m in such a good mood most of the time.”
She stares at me beseechingly. “Don’t be sarcastic. I can’t handle sarcastic right now. Just give it to me straight.Ishe going to kill you?”
I cluck my tongue. “O ye of little faith.”
“Quote the Bible to me again and see what happens to your two front teeth.”
