Jensen.
***
“It was your fault, you know. Shit—” Sissy swore as one of the cans of cream of mushroom soup fell onto the sidewalk and rolled.
Gwen whirled around, an angry grimace on her face. “It wasn't even close to my fault, bitch. She escaped, plain and simple.”
Sissy placed the soup back in the grocery bag and proceeded up the walkway toward the house. “Yeah, well, plain and simple ain't gonna cut it. What're we going to tell him? He's so going to be pissed.”
They reached the back door and knocked. Not hearing anything, Gwen inserted a key in the lock and opened the door.
Inside, the old built-in gloss-white cupboards and newer stainless appliances gleamed, as did the tile floor. Must be cleaning day, Sissy mused. She set the groceries on the tan Formica counter and opened the refrigerator. Gwen began to put away the canned goods while Sissy replenished the veggie drawer.
“This is new, isn't it?” Gwen pointed at the shiny red blender on the counter.
“Yeah. It's the one he's been talking about for ages. Looks like he finally found one.”
The two women glanced at each other, both silently wondering if they'd be the one he would ask to use it first.
Sissy opened a can of soup and poured the contents into a bowl she picked out from the cupboard, which then went into the microwave. She set it at two minutes and returned to the fridge, selecting a stalk of celery, one carrot and a clean head of iceberg lettuce.
“Wait a minute.” Gwen shoved Sissy out of the way and began to slice the vegetables, putting them into another bowl. “It's my turn to take him lunch.”
“I don't think so.” Sissy held the chef's knife aloft, angling the blade toward the top of Gwen's head. Gwen gave her a dark look, but moved out of the way. Sissy wasn't about to let her talk to him first. Not after their latest debacle with that homeless ho from the first season.
“Good idea, switching plates on the car. Think she memorized the old ones?”
Sissy smiled to herself. Gwen was shifting tactics. She's such a suck up. Sissy didn't mind letting her have the leftovers. Not if it meant she could manipulate her into doing the jobs she didn't like.
“If she did, they'll come up with a sedan belonging to an old man who's been missing for six weeks. No way they'll be able to track it here.”
“What do you think he did with him?” Gwen whispered.
Sissy shrugged. It was none of her business what he did with the 'offerings' as they called them. She was pretty sure it wasn't catch-and-release. As long as he let her stay she didn’t care.
Sissy finished making the salad and removed the now-hot bowl of soup from the microwave, setting them both on a tray with spotless silverware, a single rose (thorns removed) and the current Men's Health magazine. She added a linen napkin and a bottle of pre-squeezed barley juice she'd picked up at Whole Foods before taking everything through the living room and up the stairs.
As she neared the top of the stairway her hands began to shake. The bowls on the tray rattled against each other. She stopped and took a deep breath, willing herself to be still. When she was sure her hands wouldn't betray her excitement she continued down the hall to the closed door. Transferring the tray to one hand, she rapped on the door with the other.
“Come in.”
Still holding the food in one hand, Sissy turned the door handle and entered the dark room. He used the extra bedroom as an office of sorts. At least, that's what he'd told Gwen. Sissy knew it was really his trophy-slash-gaming room. Only she was allowed to go inside.
He sat at his computer console, playing a video game. The screams emanating from the screen told her it was his favorite, Sluts and Guns. One wall was covered in black and white photographs of young women, most of them no older than twenty. Their poses fascinated her—each was nude and looked as though asleep. He'd taken the photos from differing angles in order to
***
“It was your fault, you know. Shit—” Sissy swore as one of the cans of cream of mushroom soup fell onto the sidewalk and rolled.
Gwen whirled around, an angry grimace on her face. “It wasn't even close to my fault, bitch. She escaped, plain and simple.”
Sissy placed the soup back in the grocery bag and proceeded up the walkway toward the house. “Yeah, well, plain and simple ain't gonna cut it. What're we going to tell him? He's so going to be pissed.”
They reached the back door and knocked. Not hearing anything, Gwen inserted a key in the lock and opened the door.
Inside, the old built-in gloss-white cupboards and newer stainless appliances gleamed, as did the tile floor. Must be cleaning day, Sissy mused. She set the groceries on the tan Formica counter and opened the refrigerator. Gwen began to put away the canned goods while Sissy replenished the veggie drawer.
“This is new, isn't it?” Gwen pointed at the shiny red blender on the counter.
“Yeah. It's the one he's been talking about for ages. Looks like he finally found one.”
The two women glanced at each other, both silently wondering if they'd be the one he would ask to use it first.
Sissy opened a can of soup and poured the contents into a bowl she picked out from the cupboard, which then went into the microwave. She set it at two minutes and returned to the fridge, selecting a stalk of celery, one carrot and a clean head of iceberg lettuce.
“Wait a minute.” Gwen shoved Sissy out of the way and began to slice the vegetables, putting them into another bowl. “It's my turn to take him lunch.”
“I don't think so.” Sissy held the chef's knife aloft, angling the blade toward the top of Gwen's head. Gwen gave her a dark look, but moved out of the way. Sissy wasn't about to let her talk to him first. Not after their latest debacle with that homeless ho from the first season.
“Good idea, switching plates on the car. Think she memorized the old ones?”
Sissy smiled to herself. Gwen was shifting tactics. She's such a suck up. Sissy didn't mind letting her have the leftovers. Not if it meant she could manipulate her into doing the jobs she didn't like.
“If she did, they'll come up with a sedan belonging to an old man who's been missing for six weeks. No way they'll be able to track it here.”
“What do you think he did with him?” Gwen whispered.
Sissy shrugged. It was none of her business what he did with the 'offerings' as they called them. She was pretty sure it wasn't catch-and-release. As long as he let her stay she didn’t care.
Sissy finished making the salad and removed the now-hot bowl of soup from the microwave, setting them both on a tray with spotless silverware, a single rose (thorns removed) and the current Men's Health magazine. She added a linen napkin and a bottle of pre-squeezed barley juice she'd picked up at Whole Foods before taking everything through the living room and up the stairs.
As she neared the top of the stairway her hands began to shake. The bowls on the tray rattled against each other. She stopped and took a deep breath, willing herself to be still. When she was sure her hands wouldn't betray her excitement she continued down the hall to the closed door. Transferring the tray to one hand, she rapped on the door with the other.
“Come in.”
Still holding the food in one hand, Sissy turned the door handle and entered the dark room. He used the extra bedroom as an office of sorts. At least, that's what he'd told Gwen. Sissy knew it was really his trophy-slash-gaming room. Only she was allowed to go inside.
He sat at his computer console, playing a video game. The screams emanating from the screen told her it was his favorite, Sluts and Guns. One wall was covered in black and white photographs of young women, most of them no older than twenty. Their poses fascinated her—each was nude and looked as though asleep. He'd taken the photos from differing angles in order to
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