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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!”

Displaying tremendous patience, Sarah waited a minute, carefully watching her father’s breathing, the rise and fall of his chest. When she was sure the sheet wasn’t causing any issues, she pulled it back all the way to the end of the bed, she didn’t want it getting in the way.

“Don’t be sorry. He is a huge dick, and not in a good way. He also has enough money to pay for our house and generous child support, so I am good.” We pulled into her driveway. A modest split-level home in a nice neighborhood. Good place for kids to play. Mrs. B hit the button on the garage door opener and closed it behind us before I could get out of the car. “Nosy neighbors,” she said to no one in particular.