Page 1 of A Breath of Life
1
Tallus
“Ihate you. You’re unhinged. A monster. This is sheer madness. Lunacy. Anarchy.” I shook my fists, my voice cracking like I was fifteen. Whimpering, I folded my limbs into a tighter ball and glared at my so-called boyfriend as sweat peppered my forehead.
I pouted. “You clearly don’t love me anymore, Diem, and I can’t stomach this living arrangement. I’m stressed. It’s over. I’m done. Do you hear me? I’m moving out before I get pimples. Maybe Memphis will let me live with him. How do you like that, huh? Memphis. My sexy BFF, who may or may not have shared my bed at one time. Don’t you care?”
“No. Your dramatics don’t affect me anymore. Besides, I do this every fucking week. Get over yourself.” Humor danced in Diem’s stormy gray eyes. The bastard was enjoying himself. I was no longer fond of the sense of humor he’d developed. Why had I encouraged it?
“I amnotdramatic,” I said dramatically. “This reaction is perfectly rational. Any sane person would be acting the exact same way.”
Diem paused what he was doing long enough to arch a brow. I hated that he could call my bluff with a simple, innocuous action. “Notdramatic? This,” he waved a hand, “climbing on the counter and squealing isnotdramatic?”
“I thought you loved me. We’ve come so far. Are you going to throw it all away?”
Ignoring my hysterics, Diem undid the enclosure, removed the taunting length of muscled horror from the safety of its pen, and stroked it disgustingly in his oversized hand. The asshole was practically purring like this was some sort of erotic foreplay.
“Fuuuck… I think it’s bigger.”
Grinning devilishly, he stepped toward me. “Come on. Give me your hand.”
I shrieked, tucking the aforementioned appendages under my armpits. “No! Get that thing away from me, you freaking freak of a freakster.” I wiggled my ass as far back on the counter as it would go, wedging my body beneath the line of overhead cupboards. Something sharp bit into the tender flesh of my lower back, but I didn’t care. This was life or death.
“Relax, Tallus. It will all be fine.” The soothing coo of his words was not reassuring.
“Fuck, D, I’m sweating through my deodorant. For real, and I bought the good stuff. The expensive stuff.” I lifted an arm, displaying my pit for emphasis. “I’m going to smell bad, and it will be your fault.”
My boyfriend wasn’t fazed and chuckled, still seductively stroking his hand along the thick, ropy beast I wished he’d kept locked away.
“You bastard. Stop laughing and put your freakish anaconda back where it belongs, or I’m calling the police. You hate the police, Diem. Remember? This is abuse. I feel threatened.” I whimpered, realizing too late I’d left my phone on the coffee table, far, far out of reach.
“She’s harmless, and I have to clean her terrarium like I do every week.” I earned a pointed glare before Diem angled the hellish snake at his face as he spoke endearingly to the demonic reptile like it was a soft, cuddly kitten. “Don’t I, Baby. Yes, I do. You’re going to have a nice clean space when I’m done, then it’s dinnertime. Are you hungry? Yes, you are.”
A bead of sweat trickled down my temple as I eyed the snake’s thawing dinner, lying stiff in a container beside me. What did it say about me that I’d rather share counter space with a dead rat than have my bare feet touch the floor? I knew where this was going. I was well acquainted with tank cleaning days and how Diem allowed the freakish, murderous reptile to freely roam the apartment and wreak havoc while he took his sweet-ass time cleaning her jail cell.
If I weren’t in nothing but underwear, I’d have been out the door the second my asshole boyfriend announced he planned on cleaning the terrarium, which he didn’t. He’d shamelessly sprung it on me. Again.
With less than thirty seconds’ warning and no time to change, I’d launched for the nearest and highest perch I could access—the kitchen counter—wishing our new apartment wasn’t an open- concept style and had heavy wooden doors I could shut and lock. I should have taken my chances and run for the bedroom or bathroom, but in a moment of panic, my discombobulated, half-asleep after-work brain had turned in the wrong direction.
Alas, here we were.
I hugged my knees to my chest, forming the tightest ball possible as Diem cooed at the stupid snake and proceeded to set her on the floor. On the fucking floor! To roam. In my goddamn apartment where I lived.
“You know snakes are the bad guys in the bible, right?” It was a losing battle. My well of arguments had run dry.
“You’ve never read the bible.”
“You don’t know that. I could have.”
Diem’s lingering look called my bluff.
“Fine. I’ve never read it, but that’s what I heard. I hate you. I’m telling Kitty to curse you with her witchiness next time I see her… If I live.” I eyed the snake.
Diem ignored me and turned his attention to the dog. Echo inched closer to the monstrosity on the floor but stopped when Diem held up his finger. She glanced at Diem as though checking in and sat, head cocked to the side as she curiously watched the snake.
“No, Echo! Save yourself. I thought you were smart. Run, Echo, run! Go for help.”
Echo responded to her name by flashing me a judgmental glance that oddly mimicked Diem’s, but she must have decided my warning wasn’t authentic and resumed her cautious inspection of the snake.
