05:

DAVE

I clenched my fists, my breathing shallow as I tried to make sense of her lies. The betrayal stung like a whip against my skin, and my mind churned with unanswered questions.

She really had the nerve to lie to me. down, I knew something wasn’t right, but I trusted my gut— my sixth sense. If I hadn’t followed her secretly, I might have been fooled by the lies she fed me. But, my instincts had never failed me before, and this time was no different.

“How could you?” I asked, my voice low but quivering with fury. “How could you look me in the eye and lie to me like that?”

Her eyes widened in fear, shimmering with unshed tears. She took a step back, her shoulders trembling under the weight of the confrontation. “I… I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she stammered.

“Didn’t mean to hurt me?” I repeated, my tone sharp. “Do you even realize what you’ve done?” I stepped closer, my anger palpable but restrained, my voice growing louder. “I fucking trusted you!”

She shivered without a word.

“Shut up, you liar,” I snapped, my voice rising sharply followed by a thunderous slap on her cheek that was capable of causing her teeth to fall to the ground. I had never shouted at her before, never raised my voice in such a way, but this wasn’t about anything trivial. Her deceit cut deep. The sound of my voice echoed in the room, sharp and unforgiving, and I felt the sting of it against my own consciousness.

She froze, her body trembling as tears streamed down her face. Fear gripped her, and I could see it in her shattered gaze, in the way her shoulders shook. I hated seeing her like this, but her lies couldn’t go unpunished. My hands reached out, firmly jerking her face up by the hair, pulling her up gently but forcefully, ensuring she met my eyes.

Without thinking, I licked away her tears with my tongue, tasting the salt of her vulnerability. It was a twisted moment, one where dominance and pain blurred together. Her sobs mixed with the silence that followed, and all I could hear was the heavy gasp of my breath.

“I don’t understand,” I whispered, my voice calm yet seething beneath the surface.

“Why the fuck would you lie to me over something like this, when you know you’re mine?” My voice was sharp, almost cracking with frustration at the same time begging for answers. “So you were planning to hide something like this from me, and go ahead to marry that dick?” I clenched my fists tightly as the words burned out of me. The sting of betrayal hit harder than anything else. How could she keep something so important from me?

The second slap came without hesitation, a sharp, stinging blow that left an unmistakable mark on her pale, and tear-streaked face. The sound echoed in the quiet room, a reminder of the weight behind my anger.

“Tell me,” I growled, forcing her to look at me, eyes full of fury. “Am I not enough for you?” My voice trembled with rage, looking into her eyes caused pains.

She didn’t answer, she couldn’t. She just kept sobbing uncontrollably, her body shaking as if her very soul was being torn apart. Her silence was deafening, a damning rejection of my question. Her gaze darted away, unwilling to meet my eyes, and it only fueled my anger more. She didn’t have the strength to respond, consumed by guilt and the overwhelming fear that gripped her.

She couldn't answer, she didn't. She simply kept crying nonstop, her body shaking as if her very soul was separating. Her silence was deafening, a terrible denials of my question. Her eyes strayed away, reluctant to meet mine, and it just served to aggravate me more. Guilt and the paralyzing fear that enveloped her sapped her will to reply.

I stood there for a moment, breathing heavily, watching her, as if waiting for some sign that she’d fight back. But she didn’t. She continued to sob, her cries piercing heavily, a haunting reminder of the distance she wanted to created between us.

“I’ll see you at night,” I said coldly, my voice cutting through the tension in the air. “I won’t let you trying to hide from me that your dad wants you to marry someone else, I won’t let it slide. You've to be punished. When you know you’re mine alone. I don’t share.” The words hung heavily in the room, like an unrelenting weight.

When I got to her door I turned towards her, “And don't get dressed,” I commanded and slammed the door shut with a force that made the entire house tremble. It was a release of all the frustration I’d been holding back—anger boiling over.

When I got inside my room, I continued to vent. I slammed my fists into the wall repeatedly, the sharp thuds resounding through the quiet space. My knuckles began to sting, but the physical pain couldn’t match the emotional torment I felt. I searched through my room, for something, anything to distract myself. A crumpled cigarette pack caught my eye in the corner of the laundry basket, hidden away from my last attempt to quit smoking.

I shouldn’t. I’d quit months ago. But tonight, the urge won. I ripped the pack opened and lit one of the cigarettes, with the first drag burning my lungs like a long-lost punishment. As I watched the smoke curled up, her face haunted my thoughts. I wanted to hate her for lying, but damn it, I couldn’t shake the love I still felt for her.

Thoughts churned in my mind, relentless and cruel and I couldn’t shake the thought away. She had told me she was a virgin, spoken the words with such conviction that I never doubted her. But now, every moment replayed with a shadow of suspicion. What if it was all a lie?

If she could deceive me so effortlessly, what stopped her from lying to her father too? The image of her standing there, feigning innocence, gnawed at my thoughts. The truth felt slippery, like sand slipping through my fingers, leaving behind only frustration and unanswered questions.

The ache in my chest was unbearable, a weight pressing down as the truth sank in. For one year, I had built my hopes, dreams, and desires around lies, believing in the innocence she claimed to possess. I had waited, anticipating the moment I would deflower a liar like her, share something so intimate and sacred with her when she turned twenty-two which was a few months away.

I had invested my emotions in a lie, and it left me questioning everything I thought I knew about her.

But really? This house must be a joke to want to take away one thing I love the most away from me.

I am going to take what rightfully belonged to me and fuck her to her brain mercilessly tonight till she passes out.

With my cigarette burning out, I glanced at the clock on my bedside table. The hours felt like they were dragging, each tick stretching endlessly. I could still hear Mom’s voice drifting from the hallway, engaged in a conversation I couldn’t bring myself to care about. All I wanted was the silence of her room, my room— where I could finish what I started.

Finally, I made my way down the hall, my anger sharper than ever. The door to her room was within reach, and as I pushed it open gently, ready to give her the worst punishment of her life, but the door wouldn't open.