Page 232 of Mountain Grump
I bend down and grip the front of his shirt with my left hand.
And I lift him.
His eyes are unfocused as he tries to shove my hand away.
“If you ever show up here again…” I keep my hold of him as I dart my right fist out, slamming it into his stomach.
He chokes on his own breath.
I shove him away from me.
He stumbles back.
“If I ever see your bitch-ass face again…”
I kick my leg, sweeping his out from under him.
Ralph lets out a pitiful cry as he lands back on the gravel.
“If you ever put your dirty fucking hands on anything that belongs to Matilda again…”
The vision of him with his hands against her window grates over my senses.
Ralph rolls onto his stomach and starts to crawl.
I kick his wrist.
Hard.
He screams and lands face-first in the dust.
I use my boot to roll him onto his back. So he’s looking up at me.
So he can’t miss what I say next.
“If youeverthreaten my wife again, Iwillkill you. And no one will ever find you.” I step over him. “You want to know why,Ralph?”
He shakes his head.
But I bend down anyway, putting my face closer to his. “Because I know where the animals live. And I will feed you to them, piece by fucking piece, until all that’s left of you is a pair of empty fucking shoes.”
Ralph whimpers, and I straighten.
My eyes settle on something up ahead. On the ground. And I step over Ralph’s head.
I hear him scramble behind me, getting to his feet.
I don’t hurry.
Don’t run.
I just walk toward Tilda’s garage, and from the pile of tools on the ground, I bend and pick up the axe.
I let the rusted head drag across the rocks as I turn around.
Ralph is cradling his wrist to his chest as his other hand fumbles with the handle for the passenger door.
I hoist the axe up, and through the back window, I make eye contact with the driver.
