Too Late

I can’t breathe.

She reaches in his pants.

Puts him inside of her.

God. No.

“Luke,” she breathes.

No.

Baby, no.

My chest hurts.

Fuck.

Fuck.

No.

“God, Luke. Yes. Yes.”

No, no, no.

I’m dragging in breaths, trying to find enough to beg her to stop, but I can’t fucking speak.

I bash my head against the mantle behind me.

Once.

Make her stop.

Twice.

Make him stop.

“Oh, God,” she says. Her eyes meet mine. “I didn’t know it could feel this good.”

Three times.

Four times.

The physical pain doesn’t even come close to what she’s doing to me.

She wraps her arms around his neck. “I love you, Luke,” she lies to him.

Her teeth meet his shoulder when he says, “I love you too, baby.”

I bash my head again for the fifth time.

Sixth time.

She says, “I’ll love you forever, Luke. Only you.”

And then she fucking rips my heart out of my chest. She throws her head back and moans. Her whole body shakes like I’ve never seen it.

I want to die.

I hear him groaning. Groaning against her neck, buried inside of her, not even using a fucking condom. He’s tainting her. Ruining her.

I want to fucking die.

I close my eyes so I don’t have to see the aftermath. “Kill me,” I whisper. “Just fucking kill me.”

I hear sirens.

Fucking goddamit! The last thing I want to do is live with these visions in a fucking prison.

I open my eyes and they’re finished. Sloan is pulling her panties back on. “Fucking whore,” I say to her. “You fucking whore, just kill me.”

Sloan presses her lips to Luke one more time, and then she stands up straight, walking toward me. She bends down in front of me. I would reach out and strangle her, but I’m fairly certain I’ve lost too much blood to even lift my arms now.

“No one is going to kill you, Asa. For the rest of your life, every time you close your eyes in that prison cell, I want you to see me. With Luke. Being fucked by Luke. Marrying Luke. Having Luke’s babies.”

She leans in closer until I can smell the sex on her. She’s whispering when she looks me dead in the eyes and says, “And every year on April 20th, my beautiful family will be celebrating your birthday with a big, huge, delicious coconut cake, you sorry fucking bastard.”

She stands up and grabs Luke’s hand. He wraps his arm around her and holds her while the door swings open.

Guns are drawn.

Pointed at me.

But all I see is Sloan.

The whore is fucking smiling, and it’s all I see.

***

The end.

For real this time.