Grace

Chapter 11 - Get me a drink, babe

Wade didn't say a word to Grace while he raped her, bar the occasional grunt. At least not that she noticed. She was fixated on the lamp that sat upon her side table across the room.Her thoughts took her elsewhere as she considered redecorating the room. She'd replace that lamp with something more modern, along with this goddamned rug he was raping her on.

She focused so hard on that lamp that soon her thoughts went blank.

Wade grunted one last time as he grabbed her hips and pulled her as close to his pelvis as he could.

She had the vague sensation that someone was talking to her, though she hadn't made out the words. She slowly turned her head back towards him and realised he had finally gotten off of her.

As she came to that realisation, she instinctively closed her legs and rolled to her side in a semi-fetal position – trying to pull her shirt down to cover her lower half.

"Good girl," Wade called her.

A shiver went down her spine at the words. She didn't want to be his 'good girl.'

"Now I hope you've learned your lesson, Grace," Wade stated. "If you act like a dirty slut, I'll have to treat you like one – understand?"

Grace lifted her head to look at him. She knew then what her next course of action would have to be, but she kept her face blank. She needed to play his game for now.

She lowered her eyes and nodded at him, indicating that she understood that he had the upper hand in this relationship.

By this point he had buckled his jeans back up and sat down on her couch. He was clearly comfortable in his right to be in her house.

"Get me a drink, babe."

Still feeling numb, she slowly sat up and reached for her clothing. Torn though they may be, it was better than nothing.

Wade smirked and told her to drop her clothes and just go get him a bourbon; Grace understood he meant to humiliate her further. She tried to keep the look of hatred off of her face as she stood to comply with his demand.

She sucked in a breath as he slapped her bare ass when she passed by him to head for the kitchen.

The Kitchen.

The Kitchen was where her pistol lay.

When she walked into the kitchen she noted that it was still, in fact, on the counter next to her coffee maker. She was conscious of making him suspicious, however; so she did not grab it immediately. She went about getting the bourbon and putting ice in a glass. She made the bastard his drink.

On the way out, however; she silently picked up her pistol as well.

Wade was sitting on the couch; smoking a cigarette. He knew she hated him smoking inside her house.

She felt a tingling sensation all over her body as he looked up and she raised her gun to point at him. The tingling was intense, like pins and needles when an extremity comes out of a numbness.

Wade scoffed and started to ask her what the hell she was doing.

She didn't let him finish; she shot him between the legs instead.

Blood spattered over the upholstery and he screamed out in pain.

She couldn't stand the sound of him, so she stepped forward and shot him again in the chest. He fell silent as his body flopped to the side.

Grace stepped forward again so that she was with in reach of him. She grabbed his cigarette and snuffed it out. She then turned back to him – she wanted to give the bastard his one last drink.

"Here's your bourbon, babe," she said as she poured the liquid over him.

Then she thought to herself Guess I'll have to replace the couch too... Oh well.