Unleashing Sin - A. M. Wilson Page 0,18
I want to fuck; I’m going to find a nice, hot wet pussy to fuck. I want to drive; I’m going to hop on my motorcycle and take off without relaying my whereabouts to anybody. I am a fuckin’ man.
“What I’m not,” I pause, trying to control the pain twisting inside, “is a lowlife piece of shit who abuses and rapes women to get his fuckin’ rocks off. What I’m not is a man who has a woman beneath him wearing nothing but a thin tee, and more helpless than an injured bird, and takes advantage of that.” I spear her with a scowl. “Don’t doubt for one fuckin’ second that I couldn’t rip those tiny clothes off your skinny ass and fuck the shit out of you, and you couldn’t do one. single. thing. about it until I was good and done with you. Don’t ever doubt my power. And don’t lump me in with those goddamn pieces of shit all because I like to drink. Fuck!”
Finished with my tirade, I throw myself backward off her, grab my glass, drain it, and trudge drunkenly to the sink. My hands tremble so hard they make little tap, tap sounds against the metal basin, so I grip the countertop until my knuckles turn white. Guilt swamps me as the moment recedes, and I start to calm back down. “All I said is true, but you also don’t have to question my restraint,” I whisper. My heart pounds in my chest as the words choke me, and painful memories flash before my eyes. “I would never fuckin’ hurt a woman.”
“I know.” Her timid voice sounds behind me a second before her tiny hand wraps around my bicep. “I’m sorry I said that.” She finishes on a squeeze before turning and practically running down the hall.
I stay planted in the kitchen until I hear her door slam shut. Once I’m alone, my shoulders slump in shame.
After rinsing my glass, I turn out the lights and turn off the TV. As I pass, I snag the half-empty bottle and make my way to Elias’s room. He can take the fucking couch. I’m finishing this bottle, then sleeping in a real bed.
I moan in my sleep. Something prods my shoulder. “Fuck, go away,” I groan still half drunk and half asleep. Securing my pillow against my chest, I roll over and face the middle of the bed.
The poking starts again, this time on my back.
“What?” I snap.
“Sin, are you awake?”
This fucking girl, I swear to God. “I am now,” I mumble.
“There was a noise, and I don’t think it was Elias. It was too loud, and normally, he’d come into my room and let me know he was home.”
Just as she finishes speaking, a loud thud comes from somewhere outside the door. I’d guess the living room.
I’m up in a flash. The girl’s eyes widen when I jump out of bed, but she doesn’t say anything else.
“Get in the bed and stay quiet. I’ll be right back.” I don’t wait for her response.
Grabbing my Glock from where I left it on top of the dresser, I open the door and walk down the hall.
The house is dark except a small light over the sink in the kitchen. We’ve been leaving it on at night for the girl, and tonight is no different. That light is just enough to illuminate the person stumbling through the living room. I watch in amusement as he runs into the shelf by the TV and lets out a loud, “Shit!”
I hold the gun loosely at my side. Crossing my other arm over my chest, I lean against the wall. “You drunk, brother?”
“Fuck!” he yells, spinning around. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“Serves you right for scaring the shit out of your little houseguest.”
Realization dawns all over his intoxicated face. “Oh, shit. Is she all right? I should check on her.”
Elias moves to walk past me, but I stop him with a hand to his chest. “She’s fine. I have her.”
He looks at me in disbelief. “You’ve got her?”
“What’s wrong with me?” I ask in amusement.
“You’re an ass.”
“You’re drunk.”
“So?”
“Why? I’m the drunk asshole, remember?”
Elias flops down onto the couch. “Yeah, well, I couldn’t let you have all the fun.”
I push away from the wall. “That’s fine, man, but maybe we should coordinate this better. I already drank nearly a bottle this evening. I would have held off had I known you were going out to get shit-faced.”
Elias leans forward and