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“Like mother like daughter, I said,” he chuckled. “She needed to know. And as you can see, teasing aside, she hardly disapproves.”

“No?” She asked, clearly surprised. “Okay sweetie, I won't, if that's what you want. But do you mind if I ask why? We could not tell him about you and Brucie, if you're afraid how he would react... though I'm sure he'd get over it quickly, once he saw how hot you are, doing it! But you have to know he wouldn't have a problem with you and Daddy, not after everything he's been doing to me all these years! Even if you don't want to do anything with him yourself, I know how much he would love getting to watch, if you'd let him.”

He gave the man a hard poke in the chest while smoke wafted from the cigarette between his fingers, then leaned in with bloodlust radiating from every word hissed with his icy voice. “Notice that I haven’t asked your name yet, even though I gave you mine? It’s because you don’t have a name to me. To me, you’re just ‘Bitch’, the sniveling little Bitch who decided to come in here and ruin my evening, talking awfully big game for someone in skull-fucking range. That’s what’ll be engraved on your tombstone: ‘Here lies Bitch. Cause of death: got skull-fucked until his brains leaked out of his ears.’ Shit, I’ll carve the engraving myself. Now I suggest you get the fuck out before I use your eye sockets like a whore’s ass!”