Page 10 of Feral
I will make her pay.
I chug down the remainder of the bourbon in my glass, stub my cigarette out, and reach for my cane, making quick work of walking outside and listening for any cries for help.
Turns out my prayers weren’t answered after all and what started out as a downpour a mere few minutes ago has quickly turned into a slight drizzle. Still, it doesn’t make it any easier for me to find my footing in the dark, even with the cane.
Walking further ahead, I use my flashlight to seek her out, and I finally find her walking towards my house, head bent down, hands shaking. When she takes notice of me, she looks up, a look of horror marring her face.
“Fuck! You scared me to death! What are you doing creeping around in the dark?” she screeches, and just like that, all courtesy is lost and she’s a fiery cat again, claws out and ready to attack.
“Are you alright?” I ask, my voice as grave as the darkness around us.
She stays put, looking up at me, her voice mocking when she finally speaks.
“Yes, I am perfectly fine, Mr. Broussard! I’m just enjoying the swamp so much, I decided to go for a night dive. WITH THE FUCKING CROCODILES!!! Are you fucking insane? Of course, I’m not alright! I almost got eaten alive thanks to you!”
“Alligators,mon cher.We don’t have crocodiles in the Bayou.”
“Whatever. I almost got eaten by a fucking alligator then.” I have to laugh at how angry she is at my correcting her.
“So, it was you who screamed. You’re still in one piece from what I can tell. The big bad gator didn’t get you.”
“Go to hell, Mr. Broussard!”
“Already been there,pichouette.”
“You are the worst kind of human, you know that?”
“Better watch that mouth, there, little lady. The way I see it, you’re in dire need of a bath and a place to crash. My offer still stands.”
“You’re taking great pleasure from this, aren’t you? And stop calling me things I don’t understand. It’s infuriating!”
“Oui, mon cher.”
“God! It’s no wonder you live out here all alone with only beasts keeping you company! You’re just like them! Argh!” she screeches out her frustration.
I take a step closer and she takes several steps back, crashing against a tree trunk.
“And you’ve got a saucy little mouth, don’t you? I suggest you keep it shut or you might find yourself in deeper trouble than you are now.”
“Are you threatening me, Mr. Broussard? Is that what you’re doing?”
“Cut the Mr. Broussard crap, for God’s sake, will you? You make me sound like an old, senile prick.”
Her eyes are burning with fire and something darker, something enthralling.
“But you are an old man, aren’t you, Mr. Broussard?” She draws out my name as if it’s an insult.
“Want to know how old I am, Miss Stone? All you have to do is ask.”
The way she looks up at me turns my dick into steel.
Brazenly taunting.
Wildly intoxicating.
“My records say you’re forty-seven years old. You don’t look forty-seven.”
Her heat draws me even closer and I invade her personal space, fighting the primal need to take her right here and now.Her back is flush against the tree trunk, and I drop the cane to the soggy ground and place both arms on either side of her head, trapping her in.
