Die, My Love (Dark Creature)

DML: Chapter Five: Some Think Murder Is Recreation

Throwing herself into a bucket seat, Bethany groans. “And we couldn’t stay in bed because…?”

Settling down beside her, I pop a kernel of popcorn in my mouth and sigh at the sweet saltiness on my tongue, the delicious crunch as I bite down. “Because you suggested it.”

“That was before the hangover from hell.”

I shrug and suck deeply on my jumbo straw. Yum. Pepsi and popcorn, nothing in the world like it.

We’re slumming it in joggers, faded tee shirts, and hoodies. Hooking a sneaker clad foot under my bum, I’m entirely too comfortable. I have that lush afterglow that cannot be reproduced with overpriced creams or ointments. My body feels soft and supple, my smile a bit too wide.

Bethany adjusts her sunglasses, a testament to how bad her hangover must be if she needs them in a darkened cinema screen, and fluffs the back of her electric blue bob, her fingernails now a jazzy indigo. It’s only because I happen to be looking at her I glimpse the bruise on the back of her neck as her fingers smooth over it. Was that there last night? Her pink wig was longer so that area was covered.

I drop the drink into the holder and snatch her wrist to see better, pushing her head into her chest. “Hey,” she protests, but the words die on her lips when she spies my face.

“What is that on the back of your neck?” I ask, my words short and punchy.

Hold it back, Lee. She bruises easy; there may be a reasonable explanation.

She pales, pats her hair down, and focuses on the screen in front of us. “I thought it had faded,” she mumbles. “Don’t go there, alright? Let’s have fun tonight. We had a great day and I don’t want it spoiled.”

My anger explodes so forcefully my legs jerk, and popcorn scatters across the floor. Spoil it? She has unexplained bruises on her body and she wants to remain silent? I rein myself in and manage to keep our bag of Revels from falling to the floor.

“Like hell I won’t go there. That looks like finger marks on the back of your neck and shoulder.” I pause, my stomach sinks, and I whisper. “Did I do that to you when I–?”

“No!” She places a hand on mine and her eyes are gentle. “No. You’ve never hurt me Lee.”

I grit my teeth, because that leaves, “Derek.” The name has Bethany flinching. Derek is her fiancé. The fiancé I spent the night before convincing myself would take care of my friend after I left. Just like that, my mood is black and I have murder on the brain. I inhale and exhale deeply, control the rage. Is this what The Hulk feels like? Derek, that asshole, I’ll tear his useless domestic abusing head off the next time I lay eyes on him. Better yet, I’ll bite it off. “Is this the first time?” I ask to be sure I’ve not made a mistake of some kind, or jumped to a conclusion.

Bethany huffs, “Lee, these things happen. Let’s not make a big deal out of it. The signs were there long before he actually did anything. We were arguing, and I should’ve backed off, but you know what my mouth is like when it gets going. This is the first and last time it’s happened. Promise. He just … it was my own fault anyway.” Her … her fault? What could my sweet Beth do that would mean anybody would lay hands on her. Oh, I see. I know what the problem is, and I stare at her until she finishes with, “He gets jealous when I’m with you. Add the stress of dealing with my insomnia–”

“Bullshit,” I blurt, unable to contain myself. “I’ll kill him.”

“Hey!” Someone yells angrily behind us. “Keep it down, films about to start.”

I spin round to glare into the darkness above, but in honesty, I’m in the wrong. “Sorry,” I bark, and twist round to stuff a handful of popcorn in my mouth.