Page 72 of Collateral Damage

“Beautiful…”

C H A P T E R 43

CURIOSITY KILLED THE CAT

Puppet

Play – ‘Yellow Love – Citizen’

“Mash potato?” Just the thought of it churns my stomach.

“Absolutely not.” I dismiss the idea as she turns her nose up at me, shrugging her shoulders, trying to figure out what we can eat for dinner with what is left in the house.

“Ok. What about baked potato?” I can deal with that. Not my first choice but I'll take it.

“Ooo yes.” She gawks at me in disbelief, trying to rationalise my thought process here, but honestly there isn’t one. I will argue this until I'm blue in the face.They are not the same.

“THEY ARE THE SAME THING!” She throws her arms up in the air, laughing at my questionable picky eating, and my god I think she’s actually losing it over potatoes.

“No it’s not!” I shut the cabinet, trying to find other nicknacks she is hiding as she rattles on from behind me.

“IT’S MASHED POTATO!” At least there is texture in a jacket potato, mash is just baby food. The texture in my mouth makes me want to hurl.

“It’s slop on a plate!” She grabs me by the wrist pulling me into her chest, pinning me up against the island in the middle of the kitchen and my face burns. The past week has been so strange. She hasn’t exactly been gentle but she hasn’t beenrough either. And we have near on fucked against every surface in this house, including this island. I am sore but I don't really care. She kept her word. She's shown me I'm wanted; she’s worshipped my body in every sense of the word and I no longer feel disposable. I feelcherished. She’s made me tell myself I'm beautiful every day since trying to literally kill me in the shower just to make a point. But I have found pleasure in pushing her buttons. I don’t know what we are, but whatever we are, it’s better than what we were. I’ve tried to hate her. I’ve thought tirelessly about what outcome this has. And honestly? None of them are good which makes me so scared. It’s like I don't want to be found.

“Spain sounds nice.” I say softly. She lifts me up onto the countertop, my ass bare and a loose crop top barely covers my petite breasts. I kind of love wearing practically nothing. She can’t keep her hands off me.

She tilts her head, realising what I'm talking about. The day she showed me her face, she asked me where we should travel.

“I was joking.” A nervous laugh slips as she kisses my cheek softly.

“I’m not.” We should both get away. Chase some normality.

“Alo. I would love to travel the world with you. But we both know that is not possible.” She fiddles with my fingers before taking the cigarette from behind her ear, placing it in her mouth and holding the lighter out for me to ignite it. I flick the old zipper, running my thumb over the engraving to notice her mothers name carved into the metal.

“Did you two ever travel?” She draws her first puff, exhaling slowly away from my face.

“No.” Her eyes meet the floor. Bringing her mother up still hurts. I have tried to talk about her more and she has spoken about her a little lately. Like decorating. She thought of her mother then too. She is like the anchor to herloveand I intendto try and keep her there if I can help it. She doesn’t need to kill anymore. She doesn’t have to be the monster she thinks she deserves to be. She hasn’t‘worked’for over a month now and she is definitely using sex to get that pent up frustration out. I know sitting around doing nothing is killing her. But it proves that this is possible.Her redemption is possible.

“Where did she want to go?” She draws another puff, leaning her forehead into my chest.

“Alo…”

“Tell me. Please.” She needs to do this. For me. I deserve that. Otherwise, my mother really did die for absolutely nothing. I’ve been able to sympathise with her for her actions. Though they may be unforgivable, I’ve done my grieving. She can do this for me.

“England. Also travel to other states in the US. It’s what the trailer was for.” England? That is definitely an interesting one. I glance out the window, searching for the trailer that I have not actually seen yet. It must be behind the garage.

“The one you’re rebuilding?”

“The one you did a terrible paint job on, yes.” The palm of my hands push against her chest humorously, pinching my cheeks as I smile.

“Hey! There was nothing wrong with my paint job!” I take the cigarette from her mouth gently, holding the centre, careful not to burn myself and she peers menacingly at me like I've stolen from her, flipping it to draw from it myself. I have never smoked in my life, but there is a first time for everything. I’ve already gotten drunk, so what's the worst that can happen?

I’ve been keeping on top of my meds, she even wrote me out a new calendar with all my times for my insulin shots so she would remember and to help keep me on top of it,not very serial killer of her. She never did tell me where she got such a large supply ofmy prescription, but in all honesty, I've never felt stronger in my own self-worth and capability than I do right now.

I draw in the cigarette, inhaling with a crippled man's cough, choking on it as it invades my lungs. It’s far more attractive when she does it. That’s one more thing off the bucket list, but I shan't be doing it again.

“You really suck at being a rebel.”She taunts as she chuckles into my mouth, inhaling my smoke and my core heats.Wow, thanks.“Right. Well. Honestly, I don’t fancy jacket potatoes. So I might just head out and grab us take out.”

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