Comes with the Territory

Chapter 10 CWT

The click of the lock and the creaking of the door being opened woke me, and I stilled, making my breath shallow. I had always joked that there were assassination plots set against me, but had my fantasy become a reality? With all of the drama that was spouting all around me, I wasn’t surprised. I still didn’t have my mind wrapped around the whole shebang about the Inner Animals; it was just so out there. But it was all real.

High-heeled shoes clicked slowly toward my bed, and the suffocating stench of lavender assaulted my nose. Don’t get me wrong, lavender was epic… in reasonable amounts. You don’t bathe in it.

“Oh baby, you look so sweet when you’re sleeping,” a female voice said in my ear as she leaned down, in what I thought at first was a constipated voice, but was probably seductive. WTFB? I went rigid, what the hell was she going on about? I felt two hands on my legs as the bed bent under her weight. What the hell was she smoking?

I was tempted to just demand what she was up to, but when her hand crept up my thigh, I knew I had to kick her ass. Flipping over, I lifted my foot up and launched her across the room. She screeched, bouncing off the wall with a thud. Oh yeah, I kick butt, b-words! I stood on my bed, wobbling a bit from the mattress, but evened out as I assessed my opponent. She had on the gaudiest, skimpiest, and scarcely clad outfit I had ever seen. Don’t assassins usually wear black jumpsuits? Not blood-red lingerie that would make anyone blush, and stilts mistaken for high-heels. She had long strawberry blonde hair, from what I could tell with my lack of eyesight and poor lighting, which was all poufy with an excess amount of hairspray. She didn’t look like a hired killer, just a hooker. But aren’t they the same thing? Ha, get it, hookers have STDs, and they kill people, and killers kill people, which is slightly obvious… Never mind. She blinked up at me, confused as I was.

“You aren’t Tony,” she snarled in disgust. Well no derp, dip-munch.

“And you aren’t an assassin?” I asked hesitantly. You can never tell, these days. She scoffed, narrowing her eyes at me.

“What do I look like to you?” she snarled, sounding feral, making Hellcat hiss inside of my head, yearning to show her dominance over the little b-word on the ground before me. I thought over my answer, a smirk finding its way on my face.

“A hooker, I’m thinking, but what do I know? I’m just the current Third around these parts,” I spat, taking satisfaction with her shocked and scared expression. She then turned thunderous, lunging at me from the ground.

“What the hell did you do to my Tony-poo?” she screamed in my face, spit landing in my eye as she tried to strangle me with her pink, 2 inch long manicured nails. I grabbed a fistful of her hair in my hand and pushed her head down to my knee. I heard the sickening crunch that meant that I had crushed her nose, and an ear-splitting scream. I released her, stepping back as she fell to her knees, clutching her face. I almost felt sorry for her. Almost, not quite, though.

My bedroom door burst open, and a very freaked out Ethan stood there, fist’s bunched and face confused as he processed the situation. I was sitting on one of my knees on the bed, and a cheap, now crooked-nosed hooker on the floor, withering in pain.

“Mica, what did you do?” he asked, relaxing his posture and unclenched his fists. I shrugged, hoping up and kicking the hoe on the floor side, before making my way to his. Ethan looked at my would-be-not-so-assassin, blinking in confusion.

“Leslie, what are you doing here? And why did Mic beat you?” he asked, grabbing her elbow and hauling her to her feet. She stumbled, unable to right herself in her stilts- I mean heels- and leaned on Ethan. She rubbed his bare chest, and I could see her smirk through my weak eyes. Oh lordy, gag me now!