Page 247 of My Sweet Dollie, You Have to Love Me
That last question might have been from my own head, forced there from a place of rationality when Ambrose’s mouth drops open, and he stumbles back like I wounded him.
Annabelle shifts forward, fury coming through gritted teeth. “Go get us something to put the trash in, right now!”
Seeing around her, my eyes stay with Ambrose, not moving, aside from his eyes that drop to the blade. It triggers a strange feeling deep inside me.
It’s fear, but not for myself.
He’s used physical pain so many times to overpower the stuff in his head, like my voice probably on repeat, slandering his image for the first time ever.
“Now, Dollie!”
I jump, Annabelle’s harsh tone catching me off guard.
I do as she asks and slowly make my way down the stairs, listening to her voice as she talks again.
“She didn’t mean that.”
And she’s right, but even as I glance back, I don’t apologize. I can’t bring myself to go back up there and see the pain I caused him still on his face.
Minutes later, I return with some heavy-duty trash bags that are snatched from my hands when I offer them to Ambrose.
I don’t blame him for his frustration, which has mostly been taken out on the bloodstained carpet that’s been pried from the floorboards, revealing matching stains below.
Nausea rolls in my stomach, and the taste of yesterday’s dinner climbs my throat. I look away from the horror scene before me, and my eyes catch the wall. The sneers shine down on us like judgment. But it’s the more recent hate on the wall that glares at me.
“What the hell is that?”
My fingers roam over the carved words, and I know, even a dozen layers of paint isn’t going to fix it.
I didn’t touch her, but I can fuck anyone I want, Dollie.
Blood runs cold in my veins.
“Why the fuck would you do that?”
“Anger?” Annabelle answers for Ambrose, who continues shredding the carpet.
“Didn’t you think to stop him?”
“I told him it was a bad idea.”
“A bad idea? Casual sex is a bad idea! Carving that you can fuck who you please into the walls where I live is so much more than a bad idea. What do you think Shane will think when he sees my name there?”
Ambrose shrugs.
Does he not realize the risk of retaliation that message could cause.
I’m already shaking, something inside telling me this will be bad.
My palms start to sweat. Fear brings anger to the surface, and that sweat turns cold.
My head shakes like my body, and I snap.
“You know what, you can fuck yourself! That’s what you can do! I don’t even know why I thought we could be friends. I can’twait to sell this place, and move away and get married, and forget that you fucking exist.”
“Dollie, calm down.” Annabelle drops her blade as she tries to reason with me, but it doesn’t work.
Pink hair sticks to my face, blocking what I see as Ambrose takes his knife to the wall again.
