Page 16 of Mean One

“It’s nothing. You know, we should really do something with these bodies. Oh! Why don’t we drop them off at May’s doorstep?” It was clear she was trying to hide something.

“Max…” I approached her, towering over her small frame as I held my hand out. “Let me see it.” She squeezed the paper, refusing to give it to me. “Max,” I growled.

“Fine,” she snapped, slapping the crumpled paper into my hand. “But it’s just going to upset you and ruin our moment.” Max crossed her arms, pissed as I grunted, unfolding it to read aloud, smirking at her childish temper.

“Come join all of Whoreville this Christmas Eve as we celebrate the engagement of—” My voice stopped, burning as I stared at the printed words. “The engagement of police chief Gustopher Mayhew and May-Martha. Wear your finest Christmas get-ups and prepare for a Christmas Eve like never before.” My nostrils flared as I clutched the paper in my hand, rolling it up into a ball and tossing it down like trash.

The past quickly began to boil and seethe beneath the surface, consuming me as all happiness from my moment with Max faded away. I had one thing on my mind: revenge.

Without hesitation, I grabbed my axe, huffing as I slowly walked toward the dead couple and began to hack away at their bodies, grunting and growling as I went.

All this time, and she still ended up with him. Him!

My arms began to hurt from swinging so hard, using all my strength.

Of course, she did. Why wouldn’t she? She never loved me. It was a lie, all of it!

I continued to swing my axe again and again, blood splattering across my body and the snow, soaking my fur. I screamed, roaring as I raised the axe high and planted it directly into the man’s torso, the blade sinking deep into his flesh. I tried to use my boot to steady myself as I yanked the axe out, falling back onto my ass as snow fell all around me. My heart was pounding, my face burning from absolute heartbreak and rage.

I’m going to free myself of Gus and May-Martha once and for all.

“Max,” I breathed, looking at her as she remained still, wearing that fucking green scarf. “What do you say we go down to Whoreville and celebrate Christmas Eve this year? I know it’s something you’ve always wanted to do.” She stepped toward me, playing with the ends of the scarf.

“You just want to go so you can see May,” she whined, plopping down next to me on her knees, her tits bouncing. She began to pout, pushing her lower lip out as she looked at me with those big green eyes.

“You’re right. I do want to see May-Martha, but not for the reasons you think. It’s time to get rid of her once and for all.” My claws cupped her face as she leaned into my touch. “Oh, come on, freckles. Are you seriously going to make me beg?”

“I like you begging.” She grinned.

“Max, will you please go with me to Whoreville? To the Christmas Eve celebration? I‘d really like you to help me murder a couple of people. Pretty please?” She bit her lower lip.

“And what do I get out of it?”

“How about,” I drawled, leaning closer, hovering over her lips, “I let you kill whoever you want.”

“And?” Of course, there’s an and.

“And you can bring whatever you want back.”

“Anything?” Her eyes sparkled as she brightened at the idea. So fucking cute.

“Anything.” I kissed her gently before she pulled away from me.

“Fine. But you’re wearing a Santa costume.” Max shot from the snow, grabbing her axe as she moved to leave.

“What?” Hell no, I wasn’t. “That wasn’t part of the deal.” She turned to look at me, twirling her hair.

“It is now. Come on, you old meanie. We need to get your costume ready.”

Fucking Max.

Chapter 9

The Grouch

The soundof nauseating Christmas music filled the air, growing as we stepped down the incline from the woods toward Whoreville. Cheering, singing, and the smell of sweets choked the night as we traveled closer. Max led the way, dressed in a tight green Santa’s Helper costume lined with red fur and complete with her own jingling Santa hat. She yanked my arm as I reluctantly followed, wearing a ridiculous matching Santa costume and hat.

I blew the white puffball of the hat from my face, grunting and groaning as I pouted the entire way there, dragging my axe behind.

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