Page 9 of Mayhem and Minnie

Ah, but that makes me want to poke at it even more.

“Is that so?” I tilt my head to the side.

I stare right into his eyes, and though for a moment he returns the stare, he soon becomes flustered, fidgeting on his feet.

“What the fuck do you want?” he suddenly shouts, placing his meaty hands on my car door. My gaze drops to where his hands are touching my car, no doubt his sweat, odor, and bodily fluids getting onto my vehicle.

A twitch pulls at my lip.

“You better run, boy,” he starts. But before he can finish with his not so intimidating threat, I push the button for the window to slide up.

It catches him by surprise, and he doesn’t manage to pull his hands away before they’re caught between the window and the door.

He yelps in pain, shouting more obscenities.

“What the fuck is your deal? Let me go! I’m calling the cops. Fucking asshole. I’m going to?—”

I push the door open and slam it against him.

Another yelp of pain slips past his lips as he falls to his knees. His hands are still trapped in the window, and I shake my head at the pitiful sight.

He struggles, but he’s only hurting himself.

Leaving him to tear his fingers off if he dares, I make a beeline for the girl in the snow.

The cold wind brushes against my skin and briefly reminds me why I should not have gotten involved in this. Now I’m cold. And I get cranky when I’m cold.

But as I approach the girl, I forget all about my physiological needs.

“Are you all right?” I ask as I stop in front of her.

She plants her hands in the snow to help herself up. She wobbles on her feet, but I don’t offer to help. I don’t like to touch people unless I absolutely have to. Besides, her hands must be freezing, and they’d make me freeze too.

Slowly, she manages to get herself to her feet.

The man continues shouting in the background, threatening to call the police, but at this point, it’s just white noise.

“T-thank you,” the girl murmurs as she drops her gaze to the ground, almost as if she doesn’t dare meet my eyes again.

Odd.

“Is that man your father?”

She immediately shakes her head.

“Is he bothering you?”

She nods.

“I see.”

Taking my jacket off, I wrap it around my hand and turn back to the bemoaning man. I grab him by his slimy hair with my covered hand and slam his face against the car door, aiming with precision so I don’t break my window—that would be a pain in the ass.

“Agh!” he yells.

I slam his face again.

And again.

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