Better Hide

by Alina May

“You’re ours, Jo. Ours to torment. Ours to fuck with. Ours to own. No one else fucking touches you.”

“Easy, now. No claws in the Crown Jewels.”

“Son of a crack whore.”

She should probably keep trying to hide from me. Because once I have her heart, I’ll never give it back. Even if she begs.

And every time, I felt a little more alive while little pieces of me died.

“I’ll be your everything, Jo. I’ll be the air you fucking breathe. And every time you forget it, I’ll remind you of it.” His voice lowers, “You can’t live without us. We won’t let you.”

“Well, for starters, Kyle never kidnapped me.” “Sounds boring.”

“I like silence.” “Not my specialty. Too bad.

“Shhhh. Cole is on the phone. Wouldn’t want mommy to hear a moaning little slut in the background, would you?” “If that’s what she calls you, I won’t judge.”

A sick feeling fills me. Every time I care, it ends up hurting the people I love. And I can’t have that. I have to stop fucking caring.

Cole spends a few hours with Pat. He cuts his eyelids, foreskin, lips, and asshole off, using that pearl-handled knife he’s so fond of.

Jo’s happiness is like crack, and I need it more than I need my next breath.

“I might be able to help you guys out. The Lord has been good to us.” I raise my eyebrow. “Does the Lord approve of your porn history there, Ralphy boy?”

If he ever touched Cole, I’ll rip his insides out through his asshole.

All they have for water is flavored water bottles that taste like TV static, and I hate it. Fuckers. Couldn’t buy the good water?

“I can’t keep the cops from crawling up our asses.”

I’ve been trying to break something that was already broken. Something just like me.

“September fourth.” Cole grins. The day before my birthday.

Sure enough, all the baby birds are curled up and sleeping. The mom must be out getting food. They’re so horrendously ugly, but I can’t help watching them.