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“What do we want?” our unwelcomed guest said as he reached out and touched my hair. He made a sound. A vile, aroused sound that sent a tremor of terror rolling through me. He licked his lips. “I want a taste of that brownie.”
I knew that look in his eye. Knew what the suggestive leer on his lip meant.
“Take whatever you need and get the fuck out of my house,” Grandma Sybil said.
Beady-eyed man snickered. “Oh, lady, it’s going to take a little bit longer than that.”
I eyed the knives in the knife block on the counter. If Beady Eyes got any closer to me, I was going to grab one of them and put it in his chest.
“Where’s the weed?” the man with the mullet demanded.
“I used it all in the brownies,” Sybil replied.
“I don’t mean that weed.” Mullet Hair joined us in the kitchen. “I mean your stash. I know who you are. Bet you got pounds of the stuff stashed everywhere.”
“I sure hope you’re not a betting man, son, because you’re wrong. There ain’t no more weed here. Just an old lady and her grandson’s girlfriend is all. Now I suggest you boys leave before my grandson comes back and kicks both your asses so hard you’ll be tickling your assholes every time you brush your teeth.”
Both men snickered.
“We got ourselves a feisty one here,” Beady Eyes chuckled. He turned his attention back to me. “What about you, baby, are you feisty like the old lady? How about you and me go into one of those bedrooms and you can let your feisty flag fly?”
He looped a finger through another lock of my hair, and I gritted my teeth.
“You touch me and I’ll break every bone in your goddamn hands.”
Our eyes met and I realized I was looking into a greasy pit of hell.
He leaned in closer and moaned. “Oh yeah, you’re a fighter. I like it when they fight.”
I was seconds away from lunging for one of the knives in the knife block when Mullet Hair interrupted.
“That’s not what we’re here for,” he reminded him. “We got no time for that.”
But Beady Eyes wasn’t deterred. He kept his eyes riveted to mine as he said, “Yeah, but I’m willing to make time.”
“I need to pee,” Grandma Sybil said suddenly.
It was so random it caught us all by surprise.
“Hold it,” Mullet Hair demanded.
Grandma Sybil remained calm but gave him a very direct look as she said, “Son, when you get to my age and you gotta go, it ain’t a suggestion.”
The intruders looked at one another before the one leering at me shifted his eyes to her and jerked his head, indicating for her to go. “Make it quick.”
Grandma Sybil dusted off her hands and slowly made her way to the bathroom while I stared off with the beady-eyed man.
I shifted uneasily. I wasn’t wearing a bra and my fear had puckered my nipples so they poked through the thin fabric of my shirt. I watched Beady Eyes lick his lips, and goose bumps spread across my skin with a cold chill.
I was seconds away from lunging for a knife when the sudden boom of the shotgun reverberated throughout the little room and sent my ears ringing.
Across the room, glass exploded and timber splintered as the crystal cabinet was blown apart from the shotgun blast. I swung around and saw Grandma Sybil brandishing a 12-gauge shotgun.
“Jesus Christ!” Mullet Man yelled.
“Crazy old bitch!” Beady Eyes growled.
When she shot a second round into the wall behind them they jumped and scrambled toward the door.
“Yeah, you’d better run you little twerps!” She yelled after them as they ran out the door and down the driveway. “Next time you set foot in my house, I’ll blow a hole in you the size of fucking Texas, you pussies!”
If I wasn’t so freaked out, I would’ve laughed.
Grandma Sybil was one gun slinging badass.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” she asked, turning back to me.
Gob smacked, I watched her walk to the kitchen and load more rounds into the shotgun. She was calm and collected, moving about as if nothing had happened, while I remained frozen to the spot like my feet had grown roots and had burrowed into the floorboards.
“What the fuck just happened?” was all I managed to say.
“That, my darling girl, was a home invasion.”
I glanced around me.
“Do you think they’ll come back?”
“Not if they don’t want their innards being used for dog food!” she said, digging into her apron pocket for another round and jamming it into the shotgun.
My mouth dropped open again.
“I’m just kidding,” she said, waving her comment off. “It’s much easier burying a whole body than a body bleeding guts all over the floor.”
I stared at her, still dazed.
“Where on Earth did you get the shotgun?” I asked.
She gave me a sweet old lady face. “Son, when you get to my age and you gotta go, it ain’t a suggestion.”
