Page 24 of The Sinner: James

She swings her eyes to the road, her fingers drumming on her thigh.

“I’ll tell you how I got in if you tell me who you fucked inside tonight,” I say.

She whips her eyes at me. She’s angry and... surprised? She really thinks I’m dumb.

Her gaze slides away from me again.

“Were you applying for a job?” I sneer.

She doesn’t answer.

“I guess you were. Life must be tough for Daria Morgan. The silver spoon in her mouth no longer does it for her.”

“Oh, just… Please… Go fuck yourself, self-righteous bitch,” she retorts, waving me off, aggravated.

I smile, smug with satisfaction.

“Hmm. You don’t even know that... You don’t know if I’m self-righteous or not. Maybe I’m no better than you. At least, if I start sleeping with men, I won’t do it behind my fiancé’s back.”

She flicks her gaze in my direction, her eyes spewing hatred.

“Listen, you little bitch…” she says, foaming at the mouth. “You know nothing about men, airhead. So you’re in no position to judge me. You have no idea about fucking. Or me, for that matter. Yes, I’m going to get married. And in the meantime, I’m having a good time. So fucking what? What do you have? A bicycle, a book, and your virgin friend. Don’t fool yourself, Rain. No man is going to put up with you. It doesn’t matter how hot you are. You are as boring as the book you’re trying to write. Had you not been so dull and stubborn, someone would’ve dipped their dick into you by now. You should consider yourself lucky if you find a drunk frat boy to ram his dick into you next year when you go to college. In the meantime, call your friend, chant your virginal thoughts, and leave me the fuck alone.”

I push out a chuckle.

“What’s so fucking funny?” she snaps, annoyed.

“You...”

She flicks her eyes away and glances out the window.

Minutes later, the car comes to a stop as we pull up in front of our home.

* * *

JAMES

All my life,women have been a one-way street to me.

I’ve always taken, initiated, and demanded whenever I have fancied something.

I never looked for much variety, the women fitting neatly into one category.

Beautiful, willing, and forgettable.

Some call them sluts. I call them nature’s gift to man.

Life can be a struggle and a bore, even more so without them.

For many men, myself included, they are a good enough reason to pull out of bed in the morning and go out there and chase whatever the hell we’re chasing.

To men like me, these women are the dangling carrot, the sweet reward, and they feed the beast in us.

With that said, I know who they are and how much they can give. I don’t judge and never disrespect them.

I take them for what they are and enjoy them a lot.

In my defense, that’s all I know.

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