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I’m not sure why people don’t think of these things, but it’s all I think about. When I button up for the night, I keep in mind what I have lying around the property that would garner an intruder easy access to my home. It’s part of being a man, part of protecting what’s yours. Clearly, this piece of shit knows nothing about that.
That said, I don’t climb through the window. Instead, I finally get a clear look at him. He’s wearing a baseball cap with a smiling orange bird on it. I don’t follow baseball, but even I know that’s a terrible team. He has no beard, piercings in both ears with those big gauge earrings, and he’s wearing a flannel and a pair of boxers.
Dinner tonight was venison stew. I can smell it through the window. He’s eating well, which means he’ll fight well… if he can fight at all.
I scan the room for guns or a rack.
Nothing obvious, but it’s a stretch to think that any grown man up here wouldn’t have a gun. Most folks keep them for protection from animals at the very least.
As for other weapons, his axe is out here next to the wood stack, and I don’t see anything else threatening aside from the knives he keeps by the stove. With my gun in tote, he won’t have time to use those effectively.
I round back to the front door and kick it open.
As I make my way through the room, I can’t help but think that’s another thing folks should look into. You can’t go with cheap locks. These older cabins weren’t built with protection in mind. They’re made for hunters passing through or hikers who’ve lost their way.
The man stands from his chair with wide eyes and the scent of fear on his skin. His hands go up and it’s easy to see he’s never fought a grown man. Apparently, he saves that for the women.
My blood crackles under my skin. “Do you know Collette McAdams?”
He nods. “Why? She in trouble?”
I laugh and aim my gun at his head. “Sit your ass down.”
He does what I ask immediately. That’s what men like him do… they listen. Simple, submissive, weak men, that follow orders.
“What’s this about?” he says, his voice shaking.
“You hit her. I saw the records. You have anything to say about that?”
He laughs.
I shoot, placing a bullet into his left calf. “Laugh again and it goes in your head.”
Every muscle in his body is twitching as he writhes on the floor. “What do you want?”
“Right now, I want you tied up on the back of my bike.”
“What? Where are we going?”
I toss him a rope and nod, watching as he ties himself in circles.
When he’s sufficiently wrapped it, I tighten the edges, and tie off the bleeding in his leg.
“What are you doing? Why are you here? Did Collette send you? You know what happened there right? She’s a liar. I… did what I had to.”
“I don’t give a fuck if she spit in your goddamn face and threatened you with a fucking gun. You don’t hurt a woman.”
“Right. So, women can do whatever they want because they’re women. But men… they just gotta stand there and take it?”
I laugh. “Wow, spoken like a true pussy. Yeah, men take it. Real men, take it.”
I grip the rope and drag him off the chair, not bothering to note what he’s slamming against or how he’s being dragged. I just move, and he goes wherever I take him, including down the steps, through the pine needles, and into the forest.
“Just shoot me now. Just shoot me.” He’s pleading and crying, but I don’t give a fuck.
“Nah, that’s too easy. I need you alive.”
“Why?”
