Darkly, Madly Duet

by Trisha Wolfe

“You’re mine, London. We can dance this violent dance until we bleed each other dry, or we can surrender. Your choice. But I will have you.”

So I do. I stand and lift my chin. “I do, Your Honor. I proclaim that Hell is empty and all the devils are here.” The courtroom erupts. The judge slams the gavel, trying to quiet the outburst. My lawyer hangs his head.

Her eyes focus on me. Then she spits in my face. “You’re not my fucking priest.” “Fine.” I unshackle her wrists and haul her to her feet. “See you in hell, baby.”

“We weren’t born the day we took our first breath. We were born the moment we stole it.”

“Your hands still look clean,” I say in a hushed tone. “I want to see them dirty. I want to see them red.”

🫡🫡🫡