Page 70 of Badd Love
I watched him sleep peacefully for a few minutes, until my hate bubbled over. "DANNY COHEN, YOU'RE UNDER ARREST!" I shouted.
He jolted out of his sleep, scrabbling and gasping, looking around frantically until he saw me. He stopped thrashing, his face full of anger. I saw his hand slithering toward the littlecontroller dude that would let him summon the nurses, and I took it away before he could push any buttons.
"Don't worry, fuck-bag," I hissed. "I'm not here to finish the job."
"You ruined me," he mumbled, his voice muzzy and stoned on opiates. "Balls're ruined."
"Less than you deserve."
He tried to look around—for some other way of summoning help, probably. "I'll call…th'p'lice."
"Oh yeah?" I opened my phone and dialed 9-1-1, handed it to him so all he had to do was hit the call button. "Do it."
He turned his head away. After a minute, he looked back at me. "Why're you here?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "Testing my self-control, maybe. It's taking a lot of it to not finish murdering you."
"Don't. Please. Please."
"Now that I know your pathetic little peepee is broken forever, I think it's a better punishment to leave you alive. You'll never be able to rape anyone ever again." I leaned toward him, and he shied away. "Every time you take a piss, you'll look at your sad, crushed little balls and you'll knowIdid that to you. I hope you piss razors every day for the rest of your pathetic existence. I hope you spend every second of your life in pain, Daniel Cohen. I hope your life is miserable. I hope you live to be a hundred and twenty years old, and every single fuckingsecondis hell on earth."
I took my phone back and snapped a photo of him.
"Fuck…you…whore."
I laughed. It was forced, but still. "Whore. That’s what you always called me. Did it make you feel better about raping a twelve-year-oldchild, calling me a whore, Daniel? You're a pedophile. The vilest scum on the planet. You're worse thanscum, Daniel. You're less than the mold that grows on old dog turds."
"Did you…" he groaned, shifted. "Did you come here just to—just to insult me?"
"I had to see you face-to-face. You surprised me last night. You were the last person on the planet I expected to walk into my place of work. I thought you were in prison for raping a grandmother or something horrible."
"Got out a few years ago."
“Still raping little girls and grandmothers?"
"Fuck you."
"You did. For four years."
He had the decency to look away, at least, looking ashamed.
"So, how's Larry?"
He shrugged, looking a little less hazy. "Dunno. Haven't been in touch in years. He joined the Navy after I went in." He blinked hazily. "He knew, you know."
"Oh, I know. So did Mom. I told her."
"You know she died?"
I swallowed hard. "She…she did? When?"
"Six months ago."
"How?"
"Some kind of cancer. Heard from a cousin who was neighbors with her. She got sick and was dead within a few months."
"Consider the floor spat on," I said, “but I won’t do the orderlies dirty like that.”
