Page 7 of Condemned Soul

“Was she a good fuck?” I remain calm as I stare deep inside ‘em.

“What? What kinda question is that?” He shakes his head in confusion as he sobs like a pussy.

“I asked if she was a good fuck?” I repeat myself.

“Ain’t you her…? She said you were…”

“You know who I am, and you knew she was my old lady, how did ya think this was gonna work out for ya?” I question him.

“She said you were out of town,” he tells me weakly, using the same feeble-assed excuse as before.

“This is my town, it don’t matter if I’m in it or not.” I pull the blade from his body and watch the blood flow outta him much faster. Whoever this sorry fucker is turns white as he looks down and watches the life draining outta him.

“No. No. Call an Ambulance.” He falls to his knees.

“An ambulance ain’t gonna save ya,” I tell him before I move to the couch and lift up a comatose Mary-Ann.

* * *

“What the fuck is this?” Brian looks both shocked and concerned when he steps through Mary-Ann’s front door and sees the dead body slumped against the wall and my old lady tied to one of the kitchen chairs with her head still flopped forward. He must’ve left the club as soon as I called him and told him to get here because I’ve barely finished tying her up.

“That is a dead guy, and this is a junkie whore.” I point my finger between the two of them.

“Jimmer, that's also the mother of your kid,” he reminds me. Brian always was the humane one outta the two of us.

“Hence why she’s still breathin’.” I head toward the sink and fill up a jug of water, then launch it at her face to bring her back around. She wakes up with a gasp, and a sheer look of panic when she realizes I’ve got her tied down.

“Jimmer, what is this?” She fights against the ropes that bind her to the chair, her eyes suddenly very alert and focused on me.

“You left our daughter with a whore so you could get high and get fucked,” I remind her, stepping aside so she can see the result of her actions.

“Petey.” Her eyes widen when she sees the blood pooled around his body.

“What did you do, Jimmer?” She shakes her head at me.

“Do you even have to ask that question? Mary-Ann, you know what I do, you’ve always known. Which is why I wonder why you’re bein’ so stupid.”

“I… I.”

“I think you like gettin’ a reaction outta me. You like my attention. Well, now ya have it. Let’s figure this out.”

“Jimmer.” Brian throws me a look from where he’s standing behind her.

“You are gonna clean yourself up, you are never gonna take this shit again.” I lift up her arm and tap the vein she used to shoot up. You are gonna be a mother to our child and you are gonna do it well.”

“What about us?” she asks, tears forming in her eyes as if that’s all that matters to her.

“There ain’t an ‘us’, Mary-Ann,” I tell her, wishing this woman could focus on what's important.

“You never loved me.” She shakes her head and laughs at me bitterly.

“I never made the promise that I would, but I respected ya, and I cared for ya. I made you my old lady, Mary-Ann. And old ladies are supposed to be loyal. They don’t act like whores.”

“You're incapable of love.” She laughs at me again, and all I can do is nod and agree.

“That’s what makes me strong.”

“So, what now? You knock me up and leave me to deal? The great Jimmer Carson, President of the Dirty Souls and dead-beat daddy.” She sniggers and Brian drops his head into his hands, knowing how stupid she’s being.

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