Grifter|| A Love Story||

6

"So--Betty Draper? You always were very creative with your covers." He said lowly, obviously mocking me and my beloved cover name. I liked Betty damnit, she was a strong (although) whiny character done wrong by Don. Huh--how utterly fitting. Bas may not have been a serial cheater, but he sure did ruin our family by running. He ruined our future.

I was kneeling beside him, trying to fix the bullet hole in his arm, inspecting the tiny hole. Thankfully after careful Inspection, it wasn't lodged in there. It was just bloodied, bruised, and needed mending. I went to a shelf near him and got my first aid kit down and prepared my needle and disinfectant.

"Is that seriously what you want to say to the woman holding a needle to your fresh wound? I mean--I could make it hurt....a lot. And I don't want to hear it!" I stabbed through his skin roughly, eliciting a whimper from him. Momentarily satisfying my need to inflict as much pain on him as he had done to me.

Revenge is a dish best served cold or in my case, a needle through sensitive skin.

"Let's see: Bob Seger, Robert Plant, Tom Petty, and for fucks sakes, even Ted Nugent. Talk about being fucking obvious with your covers!" I gritted my teeth angrily grinding them to dust, weaving the stitches through his sensitive skin again. Being as rough and ruthless as he had been six years ago when he left.

"Obvious?! Kate Austen, ouch!" He growled at me, grabbing my wrist roughly, stopping me in my tracks. But feeling his skin against mine, the warmth, the intense way he burned into me, was a mistake on my part. Never let him touch you or he'll get you again.

"I told you not to piss off the woman who was fixing you," I warned again and he let go of my wrist, tossing it aside so I could do my work.

He leaned his head back and caressed his temple, trying to control himself from jumping out of his skin. With heavy sighs pouring through his nose, he winced from the pain again. Scrunching his face with every weave I made. I mean--to be fair, I could have numbed it better and made it less painful, but where is the fun in that?

"Monica Gellar, Sookie Stackhouse, Debra Morgan," he muttered again in defiance making me want to stab him in the face.

"Listen--I liked my covers, and you know what? They've worked. And so has Betty, just so you know."

"Yeah that Roger Sterling seemed to enjoy it," he eyed me, jealousy wafting out of his eyes. I could tell he was trying to get under my skin and it might have worked.

"Don't even go there," I warned, trying to finish up his wound so he could relax and so I could to bed. I needed to get away from him before he pulled me back into whatever he had up his sleeve.

Or down his pants.....

"So, Nurse Betty," I flipped my eyes to him again and raised a brow.

"Ahh--So---you've been keeping tabs on me," I wiped the wound, disinfecting it for a second time, checking my work to make sure it wouldn't reopen and cause him to bleed out again. Which at this point, I wouldn't mind.

"It's not every day an ex-con actually goes to nursing school. I must say--I am impressed. You finally fulfilled your dream, despite being wanted in 7 states." I snorted, standing up to look down at him again. His ocean eyes exploring me like a treasure, waiting for me to react.

He was purposely pushing my buttons like he always did. Always egging me on to yell back or get angry with him. He knew exactly what it would end in; wild, angry sex. We'd push. We'd shove and hit and then he'd push me against the wall, grab my ass, and I'd be done for. Asshole. I'd melt in his loving arms and tell him how much I loved him and he'd coo in my ear. Spilling sinfully erotic things he wanted to do to me and I'd melt some more. We weren't perfect by any means, borderline crazed. But I wasn't going to let him do this to me again.