Wrath (Malice Mafia, #2)

by Coralee June

Dying ordinary was Anthony’s biggest fear. I’d deliver death with a casserole and cheap bottle of wine. It would be the most mundane spectacle of the year. Fuck, I’d tell God to make it rain just to piss him off.

“I thought you moved out. Why are you here?” I asked, not bothering to turn around, because I already knew that disgruntled huffing and puffing was William. He had perfected the art of always sounding like someone took a shit on his windshield.

William ran a hand through his hair, the move making the hem of his shirt lift a bit. She licked her lips like a starving street cat staring at a bowl of cream and sugar. Fucking gray sweatpants at it again. I made a mental note to buy a pair.

Friend? What kind of friend? Did this friend have a penis? I made a mental note to kill this friend.

“It’s a shame you’re batshit crazy, Norman. We probably could have been friends. But you wanting to kill my sister is really an inconvenience right now. I’m trying to win my girl back, and I can’t do that with you running around, drinking milk, and gnawing on fingers at bars.”

Here lies a bitch who died.

Acceptance is such a funny concept. How can you accept something inevitable? Acceptance only means something if you have a choice. If it happens to you, it’s just existence. Living. Breathing.