(Betrayal Part 12)



Copyright January 2001

The door opened.

"Fuck! What the hell do you want?"

It's him. Here. Now. Just when . . .

Anger rolls over my heart. I slam my hands inside the pockets of my jeans. I don't trust them.

I don't trust myself. Not with him.

"You fucking asshole. What the hell do you want?"

"This doesn't concern you. I came to . . ."

"What? To hurt him again? To stomp on his heart a little bit more?"

My hands are ready to mutiny. They want to inflict pain . . . in a major way. In a most damaging way.

"I want him back."

I give up. My heart refuses to listen to the logic of my mind.

I throw him back against the door, reveling in the sick way his head hits the wood. His moan of pain brings a smile to my face as my casted hand makes solid contact with his flabby stomach.

"You sonofabitch! You can't have him."

The lid has blown and with it my anger explodes, destroying any semblance of control.


My fingers are gripping so tight; this idiot, if he survives, will wear my mark tomorrow.

I lower my voice, the whispered words a sure sign of danger. Hopefully this shitforbrains understands the implication.

"You can't have him. Not now, not ever."

"Isn't that for him to decide? He's mine and I want him back."

A haze of red clouds my vision but not my mind. Logic be damned. It's time to kill this bastard. An action my heart and mind finally agree on. My arm pulls back, ready to strike.

"I won't let you hurt him. I'll see you in hell before I let you near him again."

A light of comprehension flickers in his eyes.

"You love him."

My fist never makes contact.

"Son of a bitch. You love him!"

For some reason this discovery brings great delight to the asshole. I drop him on his butt and step away.

"Yes. I love him. Have done so for years."

I lean down and grab his shirt, hauling him to his feet. I shove my face close to his.

"And that's why I won't let you have him. He deserves better."

I open the door, ready to throw him out.

"He deserves me."

A smaller hand pulls at my arm. Blue eyes damp with tears stop me cold. An unbearable pain slams into my heart as I listen to the words of my friend.

"Wait. I want him to stay."

To be continued . . .