Running Wolf

5: coward

words: 2261

. . . . .

"You smart girl. You left, took your stuff, didn't answer your phone. I thought you were really gone babe." He says in a sweet tone. Nice and innocent. He caresses Katya's cheek, pulling back a strain of her hair and she almost- almost- pull into him. she whimpers, the noise caught in her throat.

She stays silent, sitting on her knees, still o their bed, head bowed. "Look at me when I'm fucking talking to you." He pulls her up by her hair, making her pull upwards. "What do you have to say for yourself, hmm?"

"S-sorry. Sorry Duncan. Please?" She pleads as his hand goes down to her throat, squeezing gently. He smiles wickedly.

"Why? Why should I do anything for you?! When you fucking left me?!" He throws her back down on the bed, crawling up quickly and forcefully pushes down on her neck, cutting off air. "Who's fucking house did you go to huh? Whose are you fucking around with?! Who are you whoring for!?"

Katya chokes, sputters on her own spit, eyes feeling heavy already. "No- Nobody! W-Went... We-"

"Speak the fuck up!"

"Diane! Went t-to her house! P-please!" Her hands pathetically attempting to scratch at his large arms but he didn't budge one bit.

Finally, when he was satisfied, he let go. Her whole body lurched forwards, gagging. Her tears were falling uncontrollably and she was shaking badly. She didn't dare meet his gaze as he moved away from her body and the bed, going towards the door.

"I don't ever want to see you out like that again. Either you're at home, at work or with me. Period." And with that he finished with slamming the door. She doesn't bothered looking. Or getting up at all. She just lays there, letting her tears stain his side of the bed.

-

She jerks awake, sweating and heart beating fast. She looks around and slumps back, very relieved. She begins to close her eyes but they shot open, looking around again. She's was laying on her couch, the living room was clean, a bunch of thick blankets folded neatly on the other couch, no stain or a mess she thought she left last night.

"Fuck."

Nothing looked like she helped out a dying man last night. No one trace. Not even the man himself. She looked to the window, the sun bright and golden. This makes her groan. She closed her eyes and make a silent prayer before she opened my eyes.

10:26 a.m.

.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit." She mutters as she hopped down the stairs, pull up her pants and barely putting on her bra properly so it poke under her shirt. She sloppily put all her stuff in her bag and quickly put on her jacket, rushing towards her bike.

.

Finally, after being honked and hollered at, almost two car accidents, she reached the diner. There are more people and she can see Mia rushing around, serving people. She pushed the door open and Charlie is wiping down the table. "Hey girlie. What happen-" He paused and looked up at her, gasping. "Shit girl, you looked a mess."

Charlie was much different from Mia. Unlike her, he was loud and silly. He never took much seriously and always made sexual innuendos. Always making them. Usually, she thought those people were creeps. But when he was made it loud a clear that one of the men that always get his coffee was, 'Woo man, he must be made from an angel because I've seen the light!' (His words, not hers).