“You know…”
He sighed.
While he’d been at the Emergency Room, nearly everything out of the woman’s mouth had been preceded with ‘You know…’ or ‘I can’t believe…’
It wasn’t just the words; it was also her tone.
Waffling from high-pitched whining to a drunken slur, it was playing havoc with his patience. Now that she’d started talking again, itwas enough to make him want to pound his head against the wall.
“You’re hooooot.”
He sighed, not bothering to hide his reaction.
“If you wanted to get me in cuffs for fun,” she giggled, “all you had to do was ask.”
He rolled his eyes since she’d repeated the same phrase at least three times before.
Some people, when they were drunk, repeated things over and over and oooover again.
Crois heard the cuffs rattle against the bedrail and he turned to look at her.
She jerked on it again and then whined.
WHINED like air escaping a small hole from a balloon.
“My wrist hurts!”
He smiled, a tight, thin line.
“If you didn’t jerk on the handcuff, it won’t hurt.”
She smiled at him as if he’d just told her that she was pretty. “Why can’t you use something softer? Have you seen those fuzzy handcuffs? You know the ones with fake fur?”
Breathe,he told himself.Breathe.
“You’d like that, right? Me in fur handcuffs?”
That wasn’t one of his fantasies for sex. Especially after he’d had to cuff people like over-served Barbie here.
“Can you…” He sighed. “Can you just… be quiet for a few minutes?”
“Be quiet?” She pursed her lips together. “You work for me, buddy!”
Oh boy, like he hadn’t heard that gem before.
“I might be a public servant, ma’am, but that doesn’t mean I take orders from you.”
She went from pissy to prissy in a moment. “Oh… that’s right,” she purred, “you probably want to give me the orders, right?”
He started counting in his head.One. Two. Three. Four. Five-
“You know…”
Dear Lord in Heaven, take me now.
“If you wanted to close the curtain… We can get a little frisky before the doctor comes back.”
I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a dull butter knife.
