Page 77 of Slayer

“Usually,” Dad concedes.

“My twin sister has been my rock as far back as I can remember. But she did one thing wrong, and I have ruined her. What do people say? Death before dishonour?”

“What dishonour has she suffered?”

Porter looks flustered by Dad's words, the cracks in his defence are starting to show.

“Dad,” I interject.

“No, son. I'm being educated here.”

Educated my arse, his sarcasm is written all over his words.

“Annie has lost her job, and her flat. She has lost everything she falls back on when things get tough. The family home, her mum, and her brother. She's lost the man she thinks she loves, and the living he promised her. She has no money. Nothing.” Porter wipes a tear from his eye. “She's still working all of that out. Every time she gets to her next chance of hope, she finds it gone. And I hope each time it destroys her a bit more.”

“That is such a woman's way to do vengeance,” Mum smiles. “Men are always so bloody violent. They see only pain as the answer.”

“Do you think a woman deserves the vengeance given?” Porter questions, turning my mum's thinking on its head. I know she implied that he picked the woman's punishment to give, yet she can't deny it's a woman's punishment to receive. Personally, I treat everyone equally. Bullets are quick and permanent, and rarely come back to bite me in the arse.

“Fine. We shall consider the matter closed,” Dad declares. “Getting Vincent Faraday is certainly worth allowing this woman to breath.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Porter breathes a heavy sigh.

I don't believe how he has managed to make such a good impression with both of them. I've been trying my whole life and I've never had this kind of affirmation from them.

I start yawning from the minute dessert arrives with the aim of kicking my parents out as soon as dinner is done. I am in no mood to entertain them into the evening when I could be in bed with my boy. My motives aren't completely selfish, I don't want Porter feeling overwhelmed by too much of the old folk.

fifty-two

Porter

I'veenjoyedmytimewith Knox's parents, hopefully they now realise how much I love him, and that I'm not the pushover I used to be. I'm starting my new life with the right impressions.

I'm giving the total opposite now as I clear away the glasses and plates from the living room, but the only people left here have already seen me collared and humiliated. I have so much more confidence now because of that. If I can hold my head up high after being caught swimming in the buff, I can hand Gladys the empty glasses without caring about her 'you're above that'protests. I've got to do something while the security staff help Knox upstairs to bed.

“What do you need?” I demand as they leave him in the middle of the bed we are going to share together.

“I don't need you looking after me,” Knox insists, struggling out of his jacket.

“No?” I tease from the end of the bed, twisting as if I have something to warm up for.

“No. But I didn't think you'd listen. I thought you'd insist on helping anyway and I wouldn't have to actually ask for help.”

“Aw.” His inability to admit he needs help from others truly is a weakness.

“Porter, would you please help me get undressed?”

“From slave to nursemaid, huh?”

“From my treasure to my greatest treasure,” he counters hopefully.

“What am I going to do with you?” I pull his arm gently from the sleeve.

“What are you going to do with me?” he chuckles. “I thought that was the other way around?”

“Maybe,” I admit. I'm just not optimistic about my chances of being owned tonight.

“You were bloody amazing today,” Knox praises.

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