TUESDAY.

Chapter 15

Tuesday - Now

It took a ridiculous amount of huffing and puffing before I was able to pry myself out. My tits hurt worse than nursing a teething infant and I paused, trying to figure out how I was going to cover them up without aggravating the wounds further. A slight twitch in the fingers of the sadist put me back on high alert. The window to freedom was closing fast and although I'm half naked with blood and barf caked to my body, now wasn't the time to worry about modesty. Scrambling as fast as I could out of the vehicle, I nearly fell to the ground not realizing I was still lacking the necessary strength to remain in a standing position.

First things first, I took three double shot sized swigs from my hero then enveloped the bottle in my arms to cherish it. Priorities. Somewhere out in the distance, there is a bottle of Jack Daniels getting very jealous right now.

Even if I tried, there was no saving my top which was completely wrecked. The thought of walking home cold and wounded was already unappealing enough but add shirtless to the mix and you better believe I was raging hard for Peyton's throat. Er, that came out more sexual than I intended but I stand behind the statement...and both interpretations of it.  

In the front seat I spotted Brent's clothes, sparking a light bulb that illuminated the blank space in my head. Quickly, I gathered his shirt, trousers, and skid mark stained briefs. I felt it only fair that he suffer the same wardrobe malfunction he bestowed upon me or in this case, lack thereof. After forcing myself to cover up using his whale-sized shirt that reeked of semen and shame, I noticed him beginning to stir. Two choices laid in front of me. The first, most logical was to get the fuck out of dodge. The second, more asinine option was to take this opportunity to give him a taste of his own medicine, Tuesday style.

At the opposite back passenger door, I stood with stun gun in hand ready to give Brent the shock of his life. Unconscious in a fetal-like position, I easily located his saggy, grey-haired covered scrotum and giddily zapped the piss out of him, literally. A piercing, high-pitched shriek followed by a pained, asphyxiated gurgle-like sound split my eardrums in the most pleasing way.

While Brent moaned and withered half consciously, I took a moment to leave him with one last parting gift. "Be thankful for the mercy I've chosen to show you. Next time, this stun gun will be a knife and I can guarantee your testicles will not fare as well."

One asshole down, one whore to go.

Poor, stupid little Peyton. For what I have in store for her might end up making tonight's suffering worth it after all.

Gen wasn't going to be home tonight; too busy rubbing her body against her current douchebag du jour, which couldn't have been more ideal. Although I may have to worry about some of the other girls lingering around the flat, I planned on ending her as quickly and quietly as possible. There was also the remote potential that Peyton would return to the scene of the crime to find the mess I made of Brent, realize how fucked she was, and skip town before I got a chance to pay her back. That seemed unlikely though because she was too cocky to think she wasn't flawless in her accomplishment. Had the tables been turned, I would have stuck around to watch the show and ensure all was going down accordingly instead of skipping off into the sunset like my shit was made of gold. Fucking amateur.

When I reach home, that's right, this is my territory now, I was met with a welcoming sight. Only little Valerie was occupying the lounge, sprawled on the couch watching tele. She looked me up and down with disturbance, frowning. Even in the dark, I could see the color drain from her face like I was the reaper coming to collect her soul.

"What in the hell happened to you?" She questioned alarmed.

I gave her a confused look. "What? Is there something on my face?"