Page 28 of Make You Beg

We sit side by side, me with my legs stretched forward, leaning back and propping on my elbows. Maddy has her knees bent.

“This is how people look when they think they’re not being watched.” I point at the neighbor on the porch, the one I mentally squashed before. He’s sitting on a rocking chair and smoking.

Probably sneaking away from his wife and kids, wanting a moment of peace.

I point next at the house next door. One of our neighbors came out to dump the garbage, and as she leaves it and walks back, she leans against the column of her own porch and sighs.

Then, she sneaks a look at the neighbor next door, on the rocking chair.

“A fucking love story in the making there,” I say.

Maddy tilts her head. “I-I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“She looks ashamed of something. That’s why she looked at the neighbor, to see if he’s seen her.”

I hum. “Is that so? Well, the way I see it, he’s trying to escape his life and rethinking his life choices with a cigarette. And she’s got this huge crush on him and is sneaking a glance, wondering if she’ll ever get the chance to replace that cigarette in his mouth with her cunt.”

I place the cigarette in my own mouth and hold it between my teeth.

Maddy turns to me and gasps.

Surprisingly, I enjoy that little sound coming out of her mouth.

“Nah.” She clicks her tongue, regaining her confidence, and looks forward again. “I bet she’s married, too, and…” She squints her eyes. “I don’t think he’s her type.”

“Why not?”

“He’s not…attractive, I guess?”

“Says who?”

“Me.”

I laugh at that. “Oh. Madelyn Almighty. Dictating what is and isn’t conventionally attractive. What is attractive to you?”

“Umm…”

She stares at me, face flushed. Her eyes widen as she inspects me.

“Are you…is that…what happened?” She hesitates, her mouth open, as she stretches her hand forward.

It takes me a moment to understand what she’s doing.

Her palm presses into my tender skin and I bite back a groan.

It’s still sore. The fucking bruise on my face. I have no idea how it looks, but I bet it’s purple or something, and I’ve sweat through the makeup. My father fucked up this time, hitting me somewhere that can be seen. He should have taken my back when I offered.

“What? Never seen a man wear makeup?” I joke, trying to get her to look away.

“Yes, but I didn’t take you for one who does.”

“You know nothing about me, Little Demon.”

“Fair. But I’m not talking about the makeup, I’m talking about this.” She pokes at my skin, and I wince, ripping her hand away. “Sorry.” She half-smiles. “Not sorry. What happened?”

“You can be a bitch, you know?” I hiss, planting my palm to the side of my face.