Page 72 of The Bad Brother
The Grilled Cheese Guy: Would you tell me if I was?
Me: No
The Grilled Cheese Guy: Fair enough. How are you feeling?
He’s asking about what I told him last night. About the little girl I had to operate on. How I’m holding up after what I had to do to keep her alive.
Me: I’m okay. Zero panic. I stopped by the hospital on my way here to check on her. She’s still sedated.
Her parents were there too. Devastated but grateful. They kept thanking me for saving their children. It was horrible.
The Grilled Cheese Guy: Are you sure you’re okay?
Me: Yes, I’m sure I’m okay.
Because of you.
The Grilled Cheese Guy: That’s good to know because we’re probably gonna fight about that willfull nature of yours when you come home.
The Grilled Cheese Guy: Right before I fuck it out of you.
Staring at my phone screen, I feel something warm and thick slide down the length of my spine to pool between my thighs.
Me: Your delusions are showing again.
The Grilled Cheese Guy: It’s not a delusion, Peach. It’s a fact.
Me: A fact I have no say in?
The Grilled Cheese Guy: That’s between you and your pussy, Peach.
Me: You’re a smug, cocky bastard, you know that, don’t you?
The Grilled Cheese Guy: I’m not cocky. I’m confident.
Me: Confidently delusional.
The Grilled Cheese Guy: Tell that to my cock and the bedsheets you soaked last night.
Do you know what that means, Peach?
It means your pussy belongs to me.
Me: I have to go.
The Grilled Cheese Guy: Alright, Peach, just one last question… exactly how wet are you, right now?
How wet am I?
So wet, it feels like every part of me is on the verge of melting into a warm, gooey puddle.
Me: Not at all.
The Grilled Cheese Guy: Liar
Me: Dry as a bone
The Grilled Cheese Guy: Bonus question: How many times do I have to make you scream my name before you admit that soaking wet pussy of yours belongs to me?
