Page 59 of Hurts So Good
“Of course, you are to do what you need for tradition. But to speak to your women like you did today before you’re married is unacceptable.”
Both Hals and Jonas hold their fingers up to their heads and pretend to pull a trigger.
“They’re not our women. You chose them, we didn't. Besides, we can’t very well do what we need with them hanging off our cocks. Weren’t you the one to always tell us they’re just trophy wives, that we don’t have to love or respect them?”
“Do. Not. Use. My. Words. Against. Me.” He slowly enunciates each word. “I don’t need to have their fathers calling me because their daughters are bitching at them about you. Just pacify them, let them think they are more than they are. You don’t have much longer until you’re married to them and the deals are sealed. Then you can relegate them to the basement for all I fucking care. They know the score of being married to our family lines. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Dad. Are we done?” I roll my eyes, ready for this shit to be over with. Once we graduate, we can do whatever the hell we want and it won’t be marrying those bitches. Not if we can help it.
“I expect a full report on the success of this Friday the thirteenth. All of us will since I know you have me on speakerphone so the others can listen.”
He doesn’t say goodbye or I love you, son. Not even I’m proud of you for carrying on our tradition. Nope, my ass of a father simply hangs up.
“I hate them all,” I mumble as we climb into the truck and head home.
I need a fucking drink.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Hals
Friday the 13th
I’m giddy with excitement. The day’s finally here. Nothing can beat the high I'm feeling at this moment. All I’s have been dotted and the T’s crossed. Tonight is going to go off without a hitch and the virgin’s blood will coat our dicks.
I’m already hard just envisioning it.
“Let’s go!” Jensen yells from the living room.
“Hold your fucking horses, man. I need to take a crap before we go!” Jonas screams as his feet pound on the steps, getting louder the closer they get to the top.
I step out of my room just as he hits the landing, deciding to fuck with him some. I jump in his way, wrapping my arms around him, and planting my feet firmly on the floor.
“Let go of me or I’m going to make sure when I finally get to the bathroom to get a handful of shit and smear it across your face.”
I let go, jumping back from him at his words. The fucker’s crazy enough to do it.
“Psyche!” he taunts as he heads to his ensuite bathroom.
I chuckle as I sprint down the steps.
“Got your gear?” Jensen asks without even looking up.
“Yep, it's already in the truck. Don’t you have faith in me? I forgot it one time, three years ago.” I shake my head as I plop on the couch. “Jonas needs to hurry. We still need to get to the party and get our people set up.”
They always worry about me being the one to hold us up, but it’s always one of them.
Ten minutes later, Jonas comes down the stairs, bag in hand.
“About fucking time,” I snort.
“Fuck you. Let’s go, it’s time to party,” he sings, as he dances toward the car.
Standing up, I fall in line behind him and Jensen, stopping long enough to lock the door.
All I can think about is what’s to come tonight.
It takes about twenty minutes to make it to the party. The spot where all the fun will start. It’s here where we will, one by one, lead them to their pending deaths. Not that they know.