You are currently reading from the Prompt #2 Series.
I watched as the blood shot out from Steven’s foot and the rest of his crew fell to the ground one by one, attempting to shoot the enemy below the hardwood floors…and then it all faded to black.
I remember Devin asking me to help him with “the last one” when I finally came to. I remember using what was left of my strength to put him in the trunk of Devin’s Explorer, where I would find myself within a year’s time, and looking into Steve’s tear stricken eyes – almost feeling sorry for him.
Devin slammed the trunk closed and said that I was to wait here and make sure no one made any noise. “Here,” he said, putting his hunting knife into my hand, “use this if anyone so much as coughs.”
He ran up the stairs, back to our mangled apartment and returned moments later with my dishwasher gloves and some trashbags. “Put these on.” he said, tossing them to me.
“How?” I asked.
“God damn it, Lauren!” he snapped, slapping me across the face, opening Steve’s wounds, “What do you think this is a fucking game! Get it together!”
“I-I’m so-sorry.” I muttered, wiping the tears away from my eyes.
Devin could see he had hurt me and was suddenly filled with the closest thing to regret a man like him could feel, “I’m sorry, baby,” he cooed, bringing me in close to his chest and wrapping his arms around me, “I’m sorry baby. Just, just, god damn it. Just rip some holes through it and put your arms and head through. Wrap one around your hair and make sure to put the gloves on before you touch the keys.”
“Keys?” I asked confused.
“Yeah,” he sighed, “you’ve got to trust me. You do trust me, don’t you?”
“Yes.” I said. And what scared me more than the dead bodies in Devin’s trunk was that I meant it. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Lauren.”