The Bad Ones

by Stylo Fantome

  He was silent for a moment, his eyes wandering over her face. She knew he was attracted to her, obviously, but she often wondered if he found her half as beautiful as she found him to be. His blue eyes dipped lower, tracing over the outline of her lips, watching as she gasped for air.

  “You are the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, reading her thoughts. She struggled to take in air and stumbled a little; his hand was still on her jaw, holding her up so she was forced onto her toes. His forearm was resting on her chest, making it hard to breathe. Yet she let go of his wrist. Let him push almost his full weight against her, and against the glass behind them.

  “We’re going to kill each other, aren’t we?” she whispered.

  “Baby …” he sighed, his eyes fluttering shut as he moved to rest his forehead against her. “What a beautiful thing to say.”

  17

  “Explain it to me.”

  “It’s stupid. You said it, I’m stupid for letting her bother me.”

  “Maybe. But make me understand.”

  Con was leaning over the island in his kitchen. Dulcie was sitting on a stool, her legs pulled up so her feet were resting on the seat top. She put her chin on her knees. They’d gone back to his house to talk. To plan. The dark hardwood floors and closed shutters, it intensified the ominous feeling that always surrounded them.

  “She just … I don’t get it. If I don’t like something, it stops existing to me. It becomes irrelevant. But her, she goes out of her way to make things hard for me. Remember I worked in that diner? Well, it closed down right before the end of school. I tried to get a job at a clothing store downtown – her mom is a ‘preferred customer’ with a charge account, I found out. She told them not to hire me. Same thing happened when I applied for a data entry job at the glass factory outside of town. Did you know her dad is the CEO, or whatever? Yeah, I didn’t either. So basically, I had to go half an hour out of town just to get a job,” Dulcie explained.

  “Annoying, yes, but that’s what’s got you all riled up over her?” Con sounded surprised. She shook her head.

  “No, that just adds to it. I’m annoyed that she talks shit about you to anyone who will listen, but then kisses your ass the moment you’re in front of her. Do you know she tells people you basically date raped her and stole her virginity?” Dulcie asked. He burst out laughing.

  “It probably would’ve been more enjoyable if I had. By the time we started fucking, she hadn’t been a virgin in years. We weren’t even dating the first time we slept together – she practically attacked me in the locker room after a game, fucked me in the showers while the rest of the dudes were changing. Kind of sad, really,” he commented.

  “Very sad. And what does that say about you?”

  “Hey, you were a sophomore back then, you walked down the halls staring at your feet. I had to wait for you to figure shit out. I had to take care of my basic needs,” he defended himself. She laughed and chucked a hot pad at his head.

  “You didn’t even know I existed back then.”

  “Dulcie, I have been waiting for you for longer than you can imagine.”

  Warmth flooded through her veins and she smiled as she stared into his big blue eyes.

  “Anyway,” she sighed, pulling herself back to the present moment. It was so easy to be consumed by him. “Shit like that. Walking around like she thinks she’s better than me, better than us, when she’s so far beneath us, she shouldn’t even be allowed to say our names. And she cheats on Jared. Lives in her fucking perfect house that Daddy bought her, treats Jared like a fucking puppy dog and me like a whore, meanwhile she’s fucking the manager of the Piggly Wiggly and is practically a platinum status customer at the pay-per-hour motel off route fifty-two. She’s never had to work hard for anything, and she treats everyone like garbage. I want to show her what real garbage looks like.”

  Dulcie was almost breathless by the time she stopped speaking. The warm feeling had turned into a fever and she could feel sweat break out around her hairline. Her hands were cupping her legs and her fingernails were biting into her skin.

  Con stared at her, his eyes wide and his pupils huge. She was pretty sure if she’d been able to see her reflection, her eyes would look the same. They’d been having fun since Con had come home, getting to know each other. Learning to like each other in the bright light of day. But that wasn’t what drew them together, and they both knew it.

  It’s been so long since I walked in the darkness. Let’s see if I still know the terrain.

  “Then let’s show her. C’mon.”

  He still had his truck from high school, the one she’d lost her virginity in – her car had blown a tire earlier in the week and he’d been letting her use the large Ford F-150. They didn’t take it, though. There was an old restored Cutlass parked on the side of the house, and Con slipped behind the wheel without a word. Dulcie didn’t hesitate, she climbed into the passenger side and as she slammed the door shut, he cranked the ignition.

  The back tires spit gravel as he gunned the engine, then they whipped out of the parking spot and raced down the driveway. It was late at night – after the incident in her apartment, Con had fixed her door as best as possible while she’d taped up the window. Then they’d gotten dinner before driving to his place. It was after ten o’clock, the sun had fully set a while before, but it was still warm out. Dulcie rolled down her window and let her arm hang outside the car.

  “Plan?” she asked. Con chuckled.

  “Oh no, little girl, this is your plan. I don’t give two fucks about Frannie, but if you want to draw blood, then by all means. I’m at your service.”

  She thought for a second.

  “What did she tell you during your little coffee date?”

  “Mostly talked about how good I looked.”

  “God, the poor girl’s gone blind over the years.”

  “Be quiet now, the adult is speaking.”

  “You’re one year older than me.”

  “Yet so much wiser.”

  “Stop being cute and just tell me what she said,” Dulcie finally cut off the banter.

  “That she was unhappy in her marriage and she really wanted to get reacquainted with me. I offered to take her out tonight – I knew you’d be thrilled at the chance for us to get her alone. But she said they were driving over to Charleston, taking their kid for the weekend,” he told her everything. She smiled and sunk lower in her seat.

  “Perfect.”

  “I thought you’d say that.”

  Frannie and Jared’s house was nice, albeit simple. It sat at the very end of a cul de sac and its driveway was surrounded by a thick hedge, making it somewhat secluded from the rest of the neighborhood. Con pulled right up to the front of the house and cut the engine. As Dulcie got out, she realized he hadn’t come around the car, and when she looked back, he was rooting around in the trunk. By the time she moved to join him, he’d found what he was looking for.

  “You just carry this around?” she asked, taking the aluminum baseball bat from him when he held it out to her.

  “I used to play ball, remember?”

  “I remember you being good at football.”

  “Baby, I was good at everything. Let’s go.”

  The front door was locked, but it wasn’t too much of an obstacle. Con led the way to the back of the house. Dulcie was surprised to find a small pool back there – Frannie’s dad had been generous. The backdoor had glass panels, and with one thrust of an elbow, Con let them into the dwelling.

  It was exactly how Dulcie would have pictured it, if she’d ever bothered. They had beige furniture and cream carpet. An open kitchen overlooked the living room, which had a gas fireplace. The mantelpiece held pictures of the family, as well as some fancy looking candlesticks and other knick-knacks. And above them all, in an absolutely huge frame, was a larger than life portrait of the lady of the house.

  “Ug, she’s hard enough to look at when she’s normal sized,” Dulcie grumbled as th
ey both stood in front of the painting.

  “I don’t know, she’s pretty hot,” Con was honest. “I was surprised. She still looks so good, especially for someone who had a kid just a year or two ago.”

  “She’s pregnant.”

  “Even more impressive.”

  “Want me to leave you two alone?” Dulcie offered, using the bat to gesture between him and the portrait. He laughed.

  “No. Now I have a thing for dark blondes with bad attitudes,” he replied, winking at her.

  “I do not have a bad attitude.”

  “Pity. Those are the best kind to have.”

  “Look at all these,” she mumbled, stepping closer to the fireplace. One picture was at the town Fourth of July party, just two weeks ago. Jared was holding their kid, and both were smiling at the camera, waving their fingers. Frannie stood off to the side a little, with her hands on her hips and one leg in front of the other, looking for all the world like she was posing for a catalogue photo shoot and had no clue who the happy family next to her was.

  “Cute kid,” Con commented. Dulcie moved to look at another picture and nodded.

  “Yeah. She takes after Jared,” she told him.

  “Y’know, this could’ve been you,” his voice was soft. She stepped back so she was next to him again.

  “Maybe. I don’t know if he ever liked me quite that much,” she started. “But maybe. He’s so easy going, it would’ve been simple to talk him into it.”

  “Simple. And then you’d have a three bedroom house and a pool and a white picket fence. One kid already, and a baby on the way. A husband no one would ever be scared of.”

  Dulcie nodded and kept staring. The lights were on around the pool out back and what little light filtered into the house was all they were using to see. She stared at the perfect family photos and tried to picture herself in them.

  “Fuck it. I’d rather scare people.”

  She swung the bat down hard against the mantel, causing everything on it to jump and scatter. Her next swing, she did it like she was playing baseball, whipping the bat down the top of the fireplace, swiping everything to the floor. A candlestick at the end was launched across the room, where it became embedded in a wall.

  “That’s what I’m talking about!” Con laughed, clapping his hands together before taking off his jacket. “But you gotta choke up on the bat, babe. You’ll never knock it out of the park with that girly hold you’ve got there.”

  “Like this?”

  She turned around and brought the aluminum rod down on a glass coffee table. It exploded, glass going everywhere. She continued pounding on the metal frame, trying to reduce it to nothing. Then she heard a whistling noise and she looked up. Con had moved so he was behind the couch, and he was tossing something up and down in his hand.

  “Question – this is going to upset your little boyfriend as much as it will her. Have you thought about that?” he asked, and Dulcie realized the object he was tossing was a thick metal bookend.

  “He should’ve thought about that before he married her. He’s just a casualty in a war for the greater good,” she replied, widening her stance and holding up the bat.

  “Sweet jesus, I hope you’re not implying we’re the greater good.”

  “All depends on which side you’re looking at it from. I’m sure the Joker thought he was working for the greater good.”

  “Well, when you put it like that. Batter up.”

  Con didn’t hold back when he pitched the bookend at her. He cranked his arm back and threw a perfect fastball, with as much speed on it as he could manage. Dulcie completely missed and the chunk of metal flew past her, ripped through the middle of the portrait, and could be heard tearing into the next room over. She stared up at the picture, at the hole where Frannie’s face used to be, then she turned to look at Con.

  “You have a lot of pent up rage, don’t you?”

  “Maybe, but still not half as much as you.”

  They turned the main part of the house into a demolition scene. He was right, Dulcie did have a lot of rage to work out. Like three years’ worth. A lifetime’s worth. She took it all out on Frannie’s property, knocking out windows and breaking apart furniture. She turned the bat over to Con and grabbed a poker as her weapon of choice, using it to stab cushions and pillows, to puncture the walls and rip apart the carpet.

  When she finally made her way into the kitchen, it was to find that Con had already done a lot of damage. He’d completely gutted the fridge, and all the cupboards were open. In fact, most of the doors had been ripped off their hinges and their contents spilled onto the floor. So she contented herself with pulling down a hanging rack of pans and sent them crashing into the stove. Then she turned on the burners – it was propane, so flames licked over the expensive copper cookware.

  She wandered outside and found Con pissing into the pool. He had the bat tucked under one arm, and with his free hand he was sipping at a beer.

  “Very mature,” she snorted, pulling the beer away from him.

  “Are you joking? We’re trashing your ex-boyfriend and arch-enemy-from-high-school’s house. Me taking a leak in their pool is possibly the most mature thing we’ve done all night. Certainly the least destructive.”

  She sipped at the Bud Light, then tossed the bottle into the air and swung the poker. It connected and sent broken glass flying into the pool. Con zipped up his pants before applauding her hit.

  “What happens if the neighbors call the cops? What happens if we get caught?” Dulcie wondered out loud. He turned to face her.

  “Then we’d better make going to jail really worth it.”

  They stared at each other for a second, then she took off running into the house. She could hear him right behind her and she started laughing. Loud, unhinged, full on belly laughter. When they got into the hallway, she jammed the poker into the wall and dragged it alongside her, ripping a gash in the sheet rock as she went.

  It was such an amazing feeling. Finally getting to do what she wanted, and not caring. Feeling so above everything around her. Her questions hadn’t been facetious, the neighbors really could have noticed the noise and the cops could possibly be on their way. But Dulcie didn’t care. She wasn’t running out of the house – she was running further into it.

  She finally found the master bedroom and she dashed inside, dropping the poker as she rushed to the bed. She yanked back the covers and was pulling all the sheets away from the mattress when Con grabbed her from behind.

  “Question,” she was panting as he yanked her shirt over her head.

  “No talking.”

  “When we’re done, I want -”

  “Are you hard of fucking hearing?”

  His hand was in her hair, pulling so sharply her eyes instantly watered, and he yanked down, forcing her to drop to her knees.

  It was strange, she knew. To be with someone so violent, someone so unafraid of violence, yet to never be scared he would actually hurt her. Maybe it was because she knew the feeling was mutual. Dulcie herself wasn’t gentle when it came to him, and she certainly never held back. He had the scars to prove it. Holding back simply wasn’t an option for them, not anymore. They’d simmered for too long.

  I want a full boil.

  She was struggling with his grip on her hair and when he finally let her loose, it was only to find his dick in her face. She remembered their conversation in the store, him accusing her of holding out on him, and she almost laughed.

  “You have to do me a favor,” she breathed, running her fingers lightly up and down the length of his cock.

  “My favor is staring you in the face.”

  “You can’t come in my mouth,” she continued, holding him in her palm.

  “You think you have a choice?”

  “I want all of you, all over this mattress. Got it?”

  There was silence for a second, and she took the opportunity to place a wet lick from the base of his dick to the head.

  “Fine. No more talkin
g.”

  She barely had his tip between her lips when his fist was back in her hair and he shoved her head forward. She almost gagged as he hit the back of her throat, but then she managed to exhale as he let her pull back a little. Then he was shoving her again, harder than before. He kept repeating the action, and it was less like a blowjob and more like he was fucking her face. He pulled her hair, forced her head down on him, and thrust his hips forward. He was completely controlling the entire act.

  God, is this what it feels like to be out of control? I wish we’d done it years ago.

  “This isn’t really the same as eating ice cream,” she gasped when he finally let her come up for air. His hand stayed in her hair and he pulled her up high enough so he could kiss her, his tongue taking over her whole mouth.

  “Next time I’ll give you something good to swallow,” he assured her, then jerked her to her feet.

  She undid her shorts as she stood and she’d barely gotten them loose when he gave her a hard shove. She fell back onto the bed and he yanked the clothing from her body. She tried to sit up, but then his fingers were forcing themselves inside her, preparing her for something even more invasive, and she groaned before falling onto her back again.

  “We don’t … we don’t have time for me,” she gasped for air. He lowered himself and bit down on the inside of her thigh.

  “I always have time to make you feel good,” he assured her, his fingers pumping faster. She rubbed her lips together.

  “That’s nice, but I really want to make sure you have a chance to -”

  “Goddamn, Dulcie, has anyone ever told you that you talk too much!?” he snapped, then he yanked his hand away and shoved three very wet fingers into her mouth. They reached into her throat for a moment, and all she could taste was herself as he pumped them in and out. “There. See how good you taste? There’s always time for that.”