Greed, Envy and Lust

Chapter Six

"How old are you Mac?" She asked.

"37," He answered.

"I'm 34," she said.

"I know." He replied and her skin crawled, she had to stop herself from reacting to that news, he probobly knew her birthday was coming up soon too."What do you do for a living."

"I'm in manufacturing.."

"You mean drugs then?"

He nodded, "Meth,"

"That's fitting. "

He had nothing to say to that.

"l have a game to play with you."

"What? Scrabble?" She asked, "Bet I can think up a better one."

Then she winked at him, he ignored it.

"Its called three words."

She listened but didn't comment.

"It's very simple Miranda. Three words to describe you. I'll start. You can sum me up in three words. Greed. Envy. And Lust. "

She considered this and knew he was waiting for her to answer him. He seemed to want to talk to her and hear her talk.

"So you make meth for the money. For Greed. And you Envy people who have real lives and..."

"I'm full of lust and that's why you are here." He replied and took another bite of the hamburger, "Now what are your three words."

"Why do you care?"

"Answer the question, just because I gave you some privileges don't go mouthing off."

"Privileges? Like my own goddam t-shirt that you stole when you were creeping around my house, fuck you Mac and your privileges."

"You know you made me realize I like a little sass in my life, it's hot as Fuck," Then he was in her face with the knife to her throat, "But I want those three words. You give me what I want." He pulled her hair back, "Three words that describe you, right now."

"Peace, sublime and solitude." He let go of her hair and pushed her head back.

"That's better, play nice Miranda." He said as he sat back down at the table, "Or I will cuff you again."

She didn't answer and he continued. He hadn't expected or wanted an answer. He had uncuffed her to eat and she had thanked him profusely. He liked that, her gratitude. She'd been there for three nights. He couldn't keep her cuffed 24/7.

"I can see that. You're a peacemaker. With the nursing and all and I imagine it makes you feel good about yourself. But Sublime, even now? In your current situation?" She just rolled her eyes and he continued, "The solitude, yes I see that. Cause you're a writer."

Her eyes grew wide then soft, in all the time he'd had her there she never looked as horrified as she did at that moment.

"You," Her voice cracked, "You read my poems,"

"They're very good,"

She wanted to cry and she fought back the tears. Because he was not getting her tears.

"And I read your diary," He leaned forward, "There's no secret you can keep from me. I know it all."

Miranda looked down at her plate of food. She's been vegan for fifteen years and sober for ten. He'd taken both away from her, but knowing he read her poetry and private writing was more of a violation than anything he had done to her body.