Page 95 of Crybaby

“I don’t know what your problem is, Rev, but we are fucking killing Carson like a pig on a spit, and we are going to do it now!” I smash my palms on the counter, knowing full well I just triggered a beast when I threw that cup, strategically missing his head.

He swipes crap off the bench with one arm and hikes over it, sending crockery and utensils crashing to the marble floor, and lands flush with my body. His large hands seize me by the neck, and I see his teeth mash together as he looks down and presses his nose hard against mine.

Spit leaves his mouth as he says, “Simmer down, buttercup. Carson is…my fucking brother.” It’s a guttural sound that emanates from his throat and into my face.

Time stops, and we are taken to an alternate world with this revelation. I wish he was joking, but I can see that he’s not. It’s just another fucked-up thing the universe has decided to throw our way.

He begins to laugh like he’s lost his mind, rolling his eyes back into his head and gripping the sides of my neck tighter and tighter, offering me no room to breathe. But he literally just took my breath away with the words he spoke.

I begin to panic because something comes over Rev, and I can’t help but think…we hurt the ones we love.

I slam my knee into his crotch, feeling his grip release and his body buckle down. I cough hard, catching air, and bolt through the house and down the hallway.

His heavy footsteps follow as he bangs the walls with side punches yelling, “Get the fuck back here!”

“You’re a fucking psycho. Just like the rest! I knew I couldn’t trust you!” I scream back as there is no way I’m stopping.

I enter a side door that leads to an open empty garage. Searching frantically, I grab an axe off the wall, but it’s so damn heavy, I drop it and grab a hammer instead. Rev bashes the door open, and it almost bounces off the hinges and returns back at him as his fist punches a hole through it.

I stand forthright with my back to a carpenter’s bench, hammer hidden behind my back.

“Calm the fuck down, Darcie,” he warns, rubbing his splintered fist and storming toward me.

With one strike, I swing my arm out from behind my back, hammer in hand, and it just misses his beautiful face as it catches air when his reflexes save him from the blow. Rev grabs the hammer off me and hurls it at the roller door, causing a huge clamor.

Without hesitation, he spins me around and presses my face into the wooden workbench, his other hand gripping my waist. I’m breathing hard and can smell the sweet timber in my lungs.

I gasp and scream as he bends over my body and his warmth and weight talks to other parts of me—parts that want him and desire him so badly. He feels it too and presses himself against my ass, showing me just how this situation is affecting him too.

But no fucking way am I surrendering just because he has a pretty face.

I grab a metal torch and smack it into the side of his kneecap.

“Fuck!” He grunts and rips the torch from my hand.

“If he’s your filthy brother, then I want nothing to do with you!” I scream, lying with every fiber in my body.

He spins me back to face him and kisses me hard, forcing his tongue into my mouth. But not today.

I grab a handful of nails from the toolbox beside me, ready to make him choke on them.They puncture my hand, and warm blood oozes out and runs down my wrist. I’m shaking as I kiss him back, violently searching my mind for what my next move is.

Fuck or flight?

Fuck or fight?

Rev grabs my wrist and shakes all the nails out of it; they rain down on the concrete floor.

Before I can headbutt him, he has a rope looped around my neck and circles it one more time. The scratchy nylon pricks my skin.

“You’ve got to be fucking joking!” I laugh at him in disbelief, both hands reaching up to loosen the rope, but failing.

“If you’re going to behave like an untrained puppy, I’m going to treat you like one,” he calmly replies and yanks me to my knees, holding the rope like a dog lead. “Get inside.”

He begins dragging me across the concrete floor like a reluctant pet.

Hell to the fuck no.

When I spot a hunting knife on the lower shelf of the bench, I grab it. “Hey, Rev,” I singsong, and when he turns, I leap up and slam the knife into his shoulder.

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