Page 102 of Too Late

And while we’re on the subject of white dudes having non-consensual sex with chicks without repercussions … I’m pretty sure I don’t even have enough fingers on both hands to count how many times I’ve been inside a girl without permission. Hell, I can’t even count the times I was inside Jess without her actually wanting me there. In all honesty, that’s one of the only reasons I even bothered with her. I liked how much she hated me.

I just don’t understand why I can get away with all that shit and no one makes a big fuss about it. I’m better looking than most of the dudes who get national media coverage. I’m also not a pussy … which most of them seem to be. What is it with pussy-ass, ugly dudes getting all the screen time?

Is it because I don’t come from wealth?

That’s probably it. I grew up an orphan with two piece-of-shit parents. The media knows people don’t eat up stories like mine, simply because I don’t have two privileged rich parents by my side supporting me.

Figures. My one chance at notoriety and my parents are still fucking things up for me.

Paul, my bitch-ass lawyer, tells me it’s a good thing that the media hasn’t picked up this story. He says when the media grabs hold of shit, they spin it a certain way, and the judge feels more compelled to hand down a stronger sentence.To make an example.Makes sense, I guess, but I’m not sure Paul realizes what an effect I have on people. I’m fucking charismatic. The media would love me. And then Sloan would be forced to follow the story because it would be on every news channel every time she turned on the TV.

Fuck, I did it again. I let thoughts of her enter my head. I’ve been trying to listen to my psychiatrist … trying not to think about her. Every time I think about her it feels like I’m an overweight old dude with sky-high cholesterol, dropping dead from a heart attack. Hand clenches my heart, knees meet the ground.

I choke on my own nerves, just thinking about what she did to me.

My Sloan.

It’s my own fault. I should have known not to love something as much as I loved her. But I couldn’t help it. It was like she was made for me. It was as if she was put on this earth to make up for all the shit I endured growing up. For a while, I thought she was God’s apology to me. Like he pushed her straight down from the heavens, saying, “Here, Asa. I’ve created this ray of light to make up for all the darkness cast upon you by your parents. She is my gift to you, child. With her, your pain will vanish.”

And it did. For more than two years I had my own little piece of heaven whenever I wanted it. Sloan was like Eve before the fucking serpent corrupted her. She was sweet and innocent. Untouched. My own little angel in human form.

Until Luke.

Luke is the Satan to my Eve. The serpent. Tempting her with his apple, introducing her to sin. Corrupting her.

When I think of Sloan—which is every fucking second of every goddamn day—I think of the pre-Luke Sloan. The Sloan I loved. The Sloan who lit up like a Christmas tree anytime I’d pay her even the smallest amount of attention. The Sloan who made me coconut cake and spaghetti and meatballs just because she knew it would make me smile. The Sloan who would sleep in my bed every night, waiting for me to come wake her up by making love to her. The Sloan who would express her love for me by caring for my house like good women do. The women who aren’t whores. I fucking loved watching her clean. She never complained about all the pigs who didn’t respect my house. She would just clean up after them, because she knew how much I loved a presentable house.

I miss her. I miss how much she loved to love me. I miss when she was innocent … my angel … my very own apology from God.

But now … after falling for that fucking serpent … I want her dead. I want them both dead. If she’s dead, I don’t have to think about how she isn’t the same person I fell in love with. If she’s dead, I don’t have to imagine the sounds she makes when she’s being fucked by Luke. If she’s dead, I can move past the hatred I have for thispost-Lukeversion of Sloan that took over all the parts of her that I once loved.

I’ve wondered if I kill Luke—if he’s out of the picture—can she change back to the Sloan I know is still there? Sometimes I think about giving her one last chance. Maybe if I were to kill Luke first and give her time to readjust to life with me again, I could learn to love her the way I used to love her.

It’s wishful thinking. He’s been inside her. Not only her body, but her head. He’s made her think that he’s better than me, that he can offer her more than I can. I’m not sure I want to forgive her for being that fucking stupid.

Her shine has worn off. She’s a dull toy now.

Damn shame.

It won’t be long, though. I’ve figured out where to get to them. It’s just a matter of how.

I lie back on the couch and close my eyes. I slip my hands in my boxers, wondering when I’ll stop having to think about Sloan just to get off. Even hating her as much as I do, she’s the only thought that can get my dick hard.

I think about pre-Luke Sloan. I think about the first night I kissed her in that alley. I think about the fact that my lips were the first to ever touch hers. I think about how fresh and innocent she was. How fascinated with me she was. How she looked at me like she couldn’t get enough. Like I was God Himself.

I miss the Sloan I fell in love with.

Just when I’m getting nice and hard, someone knocks on my door.

“Fuck.” I groan and pull my hands out of my pants. This dude has the shittiest timing. I stand up, wondering if the weight of the ankle bracelet will ever stop feeling foreign to me. I’m about to go fucking crazy. I can’t wait to initiate my brilliant plan.

I look through the peephole and then unlock the door to let Anthony in. He already knows not to say too much out loud. I’m not stupid, I know those fuckers probably have my house bugged.

“Hey, man,” I say, grabbing the backpack from him.

“Hey,” he says, glancing around like a paranoid twit. “Found that coconut cake you were looking for.”

Coconut cakeis code for computer. Bakery is code for Sloan.

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