Stalked By A Serial Killer

Chapter Thirty-Four: New Offers

Chapter Thirty-Four: "New Offers."

"ONE. . . TWO. . . three. . . pull!" Megan starts to count down, and by the time she's said 'pull', she and I are pulling at the cookie jar atop of Bryce's still-stuck head, and Tyler holding his body still so we don't drag him.

"Almost there. . ." I groan as I continue holding the top of the jar, my hands slipping with the amount of grease and butter and soap plastered on my hands. We literally tried every sticky remedy: honey, butter, dish soap, cooking spray, we even tried flour.  We've been working on his head for almost a good hour, and it's only now that we're starting to make any progress. His head has maybe moved a couple millimeters since we started, and now that we're progressing, we aren't going to stop. His colours is still pale, but he hasn't gone into unconsciousness, so that's good.

At least Bryce will be facing the consequence of a severe headache after we get him out. If this doesn't work, then he'll have to suck it up and have us smash the glass.

Of course that's our last priority and we aren't going to do it unless it's the last minute; but even before that, he'd be having his ass dragged to the ER, regardless of the humiliation following.

"Ow, ow, ow!" Bryce yelps, smacking my stomach for me to let go, but only gets a punch in the stomach by my boyfriend in return.

"You're never supposed to hit a woman!" Tyler growls at him, half-heartedly.

"Have you not met her? She's not a woman. You hit her all the time, there's no difference between you doing it and me!" Bryce argues, and another 'ow!' escapes his lips once Ty hits him again.

"She is an exception! And if you haven't noticed, I am her boyfriend, which means I have my rights."

"Your rights are limited." I interrupt, sending a small glare, but mostly mirth in my eyes.

"Right." Ty says, drawing out the word, sending me his million dollar smirk when I glare at him again, pulling on the jar harder.

Before I can even think of an answer, Tyler stumbles back with Bryce in his arms, and I'm flown across the room, landing roughly on Bryce's kitchen tile. To make matters worse, when I land, instead of having the stupid cookie jar that was on his head hit the ground, it smashes into my skull, immediately giving me a major headache. This thing weighs a lot more than I was expecting. How is Bryce still standing?

"Got it!" Megan exclaims happily, and is still standing, and runs up to her boyfriend squeezing the life out of him in an embrace. Tyler releases, and walks up to me with a worried expression, but I can tell that his worried face doesn't meet his eyes.

He's trying not to laugh.

That bastard.

"Are you. . . are you okay?" He barely chokes out, and I throw the damn Dixie's jar beside me and send a glare at Tyler, smacking his hand away as a gesture to help me up.

"Laugh, and I stick that jar on your head." I hiss, and rub my temple as I drag myself off the ground. Well, at least the floor was clean and I'm not bleeding. That would have been quite a sight.

"Yes, ma'am." He salutes, and I send him a warning look, which in return, he throws his hands in the air in surrender. "Babe. I meant babe."

I roll my eyes at him and go into his hold anyway. The amount of love I've grown for him is enough to make the entire world shake. You'd be amazed at how strong the emotion is, and it's just intoxicating. I love him more and more by the second; regardless of how often I want to smack him on the back of the head for stupid things he's done. I mean, for a twenty year old, he's still seventeen, and sometimes, that makes me worry.