𝒍𝒐𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒂 ➶ [ s. walsh ]

vi. | ❝ i'll beat you to death. ❞

LOLITA.
vi. | ❝ i'll beat you to death. ❞

✧

"I MISS MY BENZ. My Sat-Nav," Andrea sighed, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn stain on the shirt she was washing.

"I miss my coffee maker with dual drip filter and built-in grinder, honey," Jacqui replied, a dreamy look in her glimmering chocolate-brown eyes.

"My computer.... And texting," Amy chimed in.

There was a brief moment of silence, before Cassandra raked a hand through her tousled auburn curls, pursing her plump pink lips. "I miss my vibrator."

The other women simply laughed at the redhead's sentiment. Amy nudged the doe-eyed beauty in the ribs with her elbow. "Oh my God, Cass," she giggled, her bright blue eyes sparkling.

Carol, a short-haired, introverted woman with an equally shy daughter and a brash husband, glanced around furtively. "Me too," she mumbled, a small smile tugging at her thin lips.

The others continued to laugh uproariously, failing to notice Carol's aforementioned husband, Ed, approaching them with a cigarette dangling between his lips and a suspicious glint in his eye. "What's so funny?"

"Just swapping war stories, Ed," Andrea chuckled, shaking her head. There was a pause as Ed walked closer, stopping just a few feet from Carol. Andrea raised an eyebrow. "Problem, Ed?"

"Nothin' that concerns you," he drawled, before jabbing Carol in the back with his index finger. "And you ought to focus on your work. This ain't no comedy club."

Andrea huffed, and Cassandra rolled her whirling cinnamon-coloured orbs expressively, getting to her feet and turning around to look at him. "Look, if you don't like the way your laundry is done, perhaps you ought to help out and do it yourself." She picked up the wet t-shirt she had been washing, and tossed it in his direction.

Ed caught the garment and threw it back forcefully, causing Cassandra to gasp at the impact as it hit her chest. "Ain't my job, Missy," he snapped.

"What is your job, Ed?" Cassandra inquired coldly, her temper truly living up to her fiery red hair. "Sitting on your fat arse, smoking cigarettes all day?"

"Well, it sure as Hell ain't listening to some uppity smart-mouthed bitch," he told her, his dark eyes gleaming dangerously. "Just because you some stuck-up English cooze, don't mean I won't knock you on your ass."

"Ed, don't," Carol intervened, her eyes wide and afraid.

"Don't what?" he said sharply, before grabbing her arm and yanking her to her feet. "Come on, now. Or you'll regret it later."

"No. Carol-" Andrea began, pulling Carol back by the fabric of her shirt, but was cut off by Jacqui, who had stood up with a look of repulsion plastered across her features.

"So she can show up with fresh bruises later, Ed?" She paused, staring him down. "Yeah. We've seen them."

Ed simply laughed, shaking his head as his grip on Carol's arm tightened. "Stay out of this," he warned, his tone just as rough as his manner. "Know what? This ain't none of y'all's business. You don't wanna keep prodding the bull here, okay? Now I am done, talking." He turned his head to look at his wife, his jaw clenched firmly. "Come on."

Carol muttered a response, attempting to pull away from her husband, and Ed, his patience having finally snapped, raised his hand. "You don't tell me what! I tell you what!" He struck her across the side of the face, his stubbled cheeks reddening and anger flaring in his dark brown orbs.

She fell to the ground, the other women clamouring noisily as Jacqui sprang to her side, looking at Ed accusingly. Cassandra, however, chose to tackle the situation rather differently. She ran at Ed with pure fury burning through her veins, elbowing him in the stomach and resting her hands firmly on his shoulders, before jerking her knee up against his crotch sharply.

"Little bitch!" he gasped as he doubled over in agony. He waited a moment, breathing heavily while he recovered, then straightened up again and threw a punch at Cassandra's jaw.

The impact sent her reeling, her eyes falling shut. She was shrouded in darkness for a few moments, and by the time her warm chocolate-brown orbs fluttered open again, Shane was already dragging Ed across the sandy bank by the collar of his fraying checked shirt.

The curly-haired sheriff's deputy had been watching the exchange from a distance, and as soon as he caught sight of Ed hitting Carol, he decided it was time for him to intervene. When he saw him strike Cassandra, however, Shane was flooded with blind, unadulterated rage.

It was no surprise that now, as the women huddled together around a tearful and frantic Carol, he was quite literally beating the holy Hell out of Ed Peletier.

Ed held up his hands, trying to shield himself as Shane repeatedly threw his balled fist at his face, his knuckles bloody as furious grunts left his slightly parted lips. His dark eyes burned with wrath and a thin sheen of sweat coated his tanned skin, his mind filled with the image of Ed's hand making contact with the pretty redhead's delicate jaw. He was deaf to the cries and protests of Amy, Andrea, Carol and Jacqui; all he could see, all he could hear, and all he could feel was her, and the anger that surged through his body.

Shane paused, catching his breath. "You put your hands on your wife, on Cassandra, or anybody else in this camp one more time, I will not stop next time. Do you hear me?" he hissed, jabbing Ed's heaving chest with his index finger. "Do you hear me?"

Ed, with his face cut and swollen, spluttered an unintelligible response. "Y-y.... Yes," he slurred, pain and fear flashing through his hooded eyes.

"I'll beat you to death, Ed," Shane warned in a low growl, before punching him in the face once more. Ed's nose broke with a sickening crunch beneath the heavy impact of Shane's fist, causing a hoarse groan to leave his bloody mouth.

The dark-haired sheriff's deputy got to his feet and gave Ed's limp body a hearty kick, before striding towards the group of women. His hand, rough and covered in smears of blood, immediately found itself at the small of Cassandra's back. "Come on," he said, his voice low and interwoven with gentle tones. "Let's get you checked out, sweetheart."

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