Fearless Beings

Chapter 16

Tom's POV
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"You're really doing this?!" I ask, enraged.

She loops a finger around a brown curl as her grey eyes narrows. "Doing what?"

"Oh, playing dumb, are we?" I retort then lower my head to reach her eye level. "Look here, Megan, if you mess with Berianna or Mia one more time, I'm going to destroy you, you hear? And take my threats seriously, because I never throw empty ones."

She sneers, seeming unaffected at all. "You're one to talk."

"Push me a little further, and you'll be buried six feet underground," I hiss.

"Ironic!" She laughs. "If only you knew what Mia and I are capable of." She snorts, but still keeps the smirk attached to her face. "I'm not a threat, Cantor. She is."

Before I can question her about her last statement, she's already turning around to leave my house. I slam the door harshly after her, making James flinch in the process. I turn around and sit beside him on the sofa, shifting him closer to me.

Megan decided to show up on my doorstep and persuade James to open the door, telling him she'll give him chocolate if he opens the door. The little rabbit fell for it and opened the wooden thing, despite me forbidding him from opening the door when I'm not around. In fact, he's not allowed to open the door at all. The preppy girl walked in as if nothing is wrong with the world, as if she didn't spike my girlfriend's drink, as if she didn't provoke Mia into, literally and figuratively, kicking her out of that hotel room of hers. So I gave her a piece of my brain.

"Tommy?" I look down at a pouting James then glare at him. He winces, sensing his mistake.

"Start talking."

He rubs his cheek before he yawns. "I'm sleepy."

My glare hardens more. "Hell no! You're not getting away with this. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't I tell you to never open the door. Especially after what happened last year?"

He cringed at the memory. "It was Christmas!"

I brush it away. "Don't try running away. Why did you open the door?"

"She said she'll give me chocolate!"

I raise a brow. "You'll have to give me a more convincing reason if you don't want your head plucked out."

He blinks. "What does conving means?" He asks, failing to pronounce the word correctly.

"Con-vin-cing," I spell it out to him. He blinks again. "You know what? Just forget about it. But if I see you opening that door again, I swear I'll make you look like something out of Star Wars." He gives me a blank look and I shrug. "Just sayin'."

"Can we watch Saw?" He asks. Tell me, is it normal that five years olds usually watch horror movies?

I shake my head.

"Smiley face?"

"Nuh-uh."

"The silence of the lambs?"

"No way."

"Carrie?"

"No."

"Scream?"

"You'll soil your pants."

"The orphanage?"

"Do I look like an orphan? No. Do you? No. So no." I shake my head again and again and again.

"The conjuring? The walking dead? Let me in? The sinister? 28 days later?Rec? Paranormal activity? Let the right one in? The cabin in the woods? The ri-"