Page 46 of The Misfits
Her teeth rake her lower lip as she connects her eyes with mine. Her stare fills me with anger.
I know the look she is giving me.
I know the ghastly ideas tainting her mind.
They make me want to slit her throat.
With a smile of a woman not worried about her safety, her hands continue their exploration of Dexter’s body. She drags them up his splayed thighs before dipping them ever so slightly when she reaches his backside.
I hiss at her in warning. She stupidly ignores me. It is a bad move on her part. The last woman who ignored me ended up with thirteen stitches in her scalp.
“Hey, Dex?” She sounds like a whiny child disappointed she lost her favorite toy. “Are you going to share?”
Dexter smiles an evil grin... or is it an angry one? I haven’t learned all his smiles yet, so I can’t be sure. “Sorry. Can’t. This one needs to stay pure.” His last sentence is delivered via a growl. “If she didn’t, I’d already be inside her.”
Before I can seek further clarification, Dexter rolls off me.
Now I want to kill everything and everyone.
I haven’t worked through one-tenth of my anger when the brunette murmurs, “What if I promise to be gentle? You’d like that, wouldn’t you, sweetie?” The sheer dishonesty in her tone secures my utmost attention. I don’t know this lady, but I do know she is a liar. “I’ll fuck you nice and gentle while Dex fucks me hard and fast. How does that sound to you?”
I growl at her, baring teeth. Ignorant of the fury reddening my cheeks, she scrapes her nails up my thigh. My leg instinctively kicks out, partly in anger, partly due to natural reflexes.
A pained groan rolls up her chest when my foot smacks into her nose. My hit wasn’t an accident, but that’s the defense I take when she roars, “What the fuck! Do you have any idea how much my nose cost?” She glares at me over her pencil-thin nose that isn’t as pretty as it was moments ago. Fury ignites in her narrowed gaze when she spots the curl of my lips. “You did that on purpose.” Angered by my halfhearted shrug, she takes a page from Dexter’s book by gripping my ankle and dragging me down the bed. “I’ll show you what I think of stuck-up bitches!”
Her clutch on my leg barely budges me an inch.
My foot, on the other hand, it has perfect aim.
“Argh!” she screams in a grunt when my kick to her chest sends her sailing across the room.
She lands on the floor with a thud, her angry roar barely heard over Dexter’s chuckle. He appears entertained by the show as if this was his plan all along.
Dexter’s laughter doesn’t linger for long. The brunette’s angry shout nips it in the bud quickly. “You stupid bitch! What the hell is wrong with you?”
“What did you call her?” Dexter yells, his furious tone launching my heart into my throat.
Blind to the absolute fury radiating out of Dexter, the brunette stands to her feet, rolls her shoulders, locks her slitted gaze with mine, then sneers, “I called her a bitch.”
“Not that part, the bit before it.” Dexter stands to his full height. It is even more impressive when he’s fuming in anger. “The ‘S’ word. The one that implies youthinkyou’re better than her?”
The brunette laughs. “Puh-leeze. IknowI am better than her. She grunts like an animal, for crying out loud.”
“She’s mute,” Dexter informs her, shocking me with the understanding in his voice.
The snarky bitch drops her brown eyes to mine. The mock in them boils my blood. “You’re mute.” She’s not asking a question. She is taunting me. “Aww, sweetie. Are you okay? Did naughty men doreallybad things to you that turned your brain to mush?” She talks to me like I’m a child, goading me in the same manner the girls at my school did when my mother arrived to pick me up without her clothes. “Is that why you’re stupid? Did your daddy play the banjo on your vag—”
Her ridicule is stopped when Dexter’s hand flies wildly through the air. He backhands her so hard, she crashes into the wall separating our room from the one next door.
Her hand darts up to cradle her reddening cheek as she slumps to the floor. I watch in reverence when Dexter bridges the gap between them, his steps drawn out and dangerous. “There you go with that word again.”
Pain erupts in her eyes when Dexter fists her hair. He drags her to my side of the bed, his clutch strengthening with every painful howl she releases. Our room’s floor space is minimal, but I’m certain it feels like being dragged down a football field to the brunette.
When they stop in front of me, Dexter yanks her head back, forcing her eyes to align with mine. “Tell her you’re sorry.” He barks his order so violently, the window in our room rattles.
The brunette’s split lip quivers, but not a peep seeps from her mouth.
“Tell her you’re sorry!” Dexter roars, maddened by her delay.
