The man starts to scream as Kent stands behind him, pressing the sharp edge of the knife to the man’s pinky finger. The scream turns to a howl of horror, of pain, as Kent presses the blade deeper.I’m frozen to the spot, horrified. Though I can feel myself trembling, I can’t move, can’t stop watchin
I gasp, my eyes going wide, and then – instantly, like flipping a light switch – I come back to myself.“Oh my god!” I shout, putting my hands up against his chest and shoving him. “Oh my god you are so gross!”He laughs then, truly entertained but not moving at all against my pushes. After three or
He gives me a little shake – nothing rough, just enough to try to teach me he’s in control – but I just laugh against his hand, perhaps a little manic now –The fear is still coursing through me, but along with it is something else – adrenaline, maybe – God damnit, was he right? Was my body respond
As I fall into the routines of the Lippert house I’m surprised to find that I’m quickly bored by them. Life at my home with David and Janeen was also boring – but they’re just normal people. A little of me, I think, expected everyday gang life to be more exciting.It’s not that the house is empty, r
Well. I cleared my throat and moved my thoughts on to something else.I am less tempted by the enticements of Fiona’s super-feminine lifestyle, I think, because I already had a sister who delved into all of that sort of stuff. Sure, strippers are all about being sexy while being a mafia side piece i
We drive a little down the lane, over a slight rise, and then a barn comes into sight. A beautiful barn, really, immaculately cared for and painted in shades of gray. Three little gables peak out of the roof and two little cupolas crown it, weathervanes at their peeks. “Oh!” I say, completely charm
A smile spreads over my face and I resist the urge to throw my arms around him, so thrilled am I. But, I have more questions.“Why?” I ask, a little breathless now. “Why did you do this for me?”Kent leans back against the low wall. “Because I could tell you were miserable, Fay. You might not believ
I’m alone in the back seat of the black sedan that takes me to dinner at my father’s house. I look up at the grey stone mansion and grimace, not looking forward to this. I know that there should probably be some curiosity in me, some desire to know more about my family and my heritage. But honestly