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“I d-don’t —”
“Blink once for yes, and twice if you want me to make you taste your intestines right now.”
He blinks once.
Fucker.
I’m kinda disappointed.
But I let him go. Not without a last, punishing squeeze that makes him squeak and gurgle like a pathetic buffoon. And as soon as I do that, he falls to the ground, coughing and moaning, his hands clutching his throat.
And she loves him.
This guy.
This pathetic fucking weasel.
My anger renewed, I bend down and grab his collar so he looks at me. The sight of his face, though, gives me a little pause.
Disgusted, I growl, “What, are you fucking crying right now?”
He sniffles, his hands still around his throat, trying to stumble back. “Get the fuck away from me, man. She already punched me out, okay?”
“She did.”
“Yeah.” He sniffles. “She even kneed me in the junk, all right? So get the fuck away from me.”
My lips twitch with a smile.
That’s my girl.
I still keep a hold of his collar though and shake him. “Stop fucking crying like a pussy.” Another shake. “And I will.”
Something about my tone might have registered with him because he stops struggling and looks up at me. Although, I’m not sure how much he can see with tears still running down his face and his chest shuddering.
“I want you to understand this very clearly, yeah?” I begin, my fist tightening in his shirt as I look into his eyes. “You need to stay away from her.”
His eyes are wide and he stutters, “Y-yeah. I-I —”
“No, don’t talk. I don’t want to hear your pathetic little voice. Just blink once for yes.”
The fucker does it. He blinks.
“You don’t try to contact her in any way, shape or form. Meaning you don’t text her or email her or write her a fucking letter and send it in the mail. You don’t even send her a postcard clutched in the fucking beak of a fucking owl, all right? And then slowly, little by little, you forget about her. You forget her name. You forget where she lives. You forget what she sounds like. What she looks like. You forget her smile. You forget her fucking laughter. And you forget the color of her eyes. Are you getting all of this down?”
He blinks again.
Although this time it was more like a jerk since his fear is mounting by the minute. I can smell it.
I think he’s going to shit his fucking pants in about five seconds so I need to make this quick.
“And then she doesn’t exist for you. You don’t think about her. You don’t even dream about her. If you dream about her, you smack yourself in the face and you wake yourself up, yeah?”
“B-but I don’t… How can I control… It’s a dream!” he cries out.
I’ll let it slide. His breach of conduct about using his voice.
I tug at his collar, pulling him up slightly, making fear dance across his pretty boy features. “So don’t fall asleep then. Ever.”
“But that’s impossible. How —”
“Enough talking. Now blink once if you understood everything, and I wouldn’t suggest blinking twice, even by mistake, because you’re not going to like what I do to your eyelashes. Before moving on to your eyes and other body parts.”
He does it.
And he does it hard.
So much so that I think he almost injured himself right then.
Even though this is the answer I wanted, I’m still not very happy. I would’ve liked a go at his eyelashes, plucking them out one by one and feeding them to him.
I take one last look at his pathetic face before letting go of his collar.
The look of relief is so big on his features that it pisses me off and I grab his collar again. Before laying it out on his jaw.
He howls in pain and that’s when I let go.
But I keep myself bent over him and growl, “That’s for making her cry tonight.”
And then I’m ready to get out of here but his stupid fucking voice stops me. “What the fuck, man? What the fuck is your p-problem? You’re not her d-dad.”
I look at his pathetic form for a second. “No, I’m not. I’m worse than her dad. Because I’m here and he’s not. And I can put you in a world of hurt if you don’t take my advice tonight.”
And then I’m striding away.
Twenty minutes later, I’m back at the mansion and Mo is there to greet me at the door.
“She’s finally asleep.”
I jerk out a nod. “Any nightmares, anything?”
“No,” she tells me. “But I made her tea and gave her a sleeping pill anyway. Hopefully she’ll sleep through the night.”
Another nod. “Fine. Thanks.”
“I’m not sure what that boy did. She wouldn’t tell me but —”
My fists throb with violence. “That boy won’t be a problem anymore.”
I’m about to walk away when Mo says, “I told her.”
