just keep me here forever? Do you really think you won’t eventually get caught?” She slammed the book down on the end table. “I’d like to see what happens when you do. You wouldn’t last ten minutes in prison.”
“ Well, aren’t we feisty today.” Apparently uninterested in pursuing an argument, he ambled lazily into the kitchen. After a moment, Eva followed. She wasn’t done ranting, and his was the only available ear.
“ You know what I think?”
“I expect you’ll tell me.” He pulled open a drawer and rummaged about, more intent on finding whatever he was looking for than in listening to her.
“ I think your days are numbered. You’ve been getting away with this for way too long. At some point someone’s going to...suspect...what the hell are you looking for?” His opening and slamming of drawers was distracting her from her tirade.
“A pencil.”
“There’s a pen right there in front of you. Are you blind?”
“Did I ask for a pen?”
“What difference does it make?”
“The difference is, this is a pen and I need a pencil. I suppose I could use the pen to illustrate the variances between the two, if necessary.”
“ I know the...God, you’re the most aggravating person I ever met in my life!”
“And you apparently never progressed beyond kindergarten.”
Her temper ignited, she snatched the pen off the counter. “I can tell you the difference between the two! The pen is the one that’s about to be sticking out of your skull!”
“I doubt that.”
“What? You don’t think I’ll do it?”
“I know you won’t.” He rested his elbows on the counter and leaned against it, smirking in a triumphant way that only fueled her anger.
“ Don’t bet on it! I could put your eye out with this!”
“What are you waiting for then? A diagram of my anatomy?”
“I’m waiting for you to...to shut up! ”
“You’re the one doing all the talking. I wonder if you ever stop.”
“I’ll stop when you’re cold dead in the ground!”
“You aren’t going to put me there with that. Why don’t you try a kitchen knife instead? Much more effective than a pen, I assure you. There’s one right behind you.”
She glanced over her shoulder at the handles protruding from the bamboo block, and traded the pen for a sharp boning knife.
“Good choice. Now, I would highly suggest you make that first blow count.”
“I’d cut out your heart, if you had one!”
“It’s right here.” He touched the spot on his chest with two fingers.
“ That’s a good one! There’s nothing there but a blackened chunk of coal!”
“Stop procrastinating.” He spread his arms out by his sides. “I’ll make it easy for you. You have a completely immobile target. Come on then, let’s see you draw some blood.”
In spite of her ire, she knew what a futile gesture it would be. The blade might look formidable, but to him it was little more than a minor inconvenience. His wounds would heal. Hers would remain. And that was that, wasn’t it?
She sighed irritably. “If I thought it would do any good...but it wouldn’t, would it?”
“Other than a fleeting moment of satisfaction on your part, no. I, on the other hand, will revel in your subsequent punishment. I can promise you that will last for hours.”
“You’re going to get yours one day. That is my promise to you. ”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” He smiled insolently.
“I never do.”
“Are you done with your little tantrum? I have work to do.” He resumed his search through the cabinets, dismissing her.
“I hope you never find a pencil,” she snapped, slinging the knife across the counter and storming out of the room. Not the wittiest insult she’d ever come up with, but she was off her game today. His arrogance made her crazy. And what work was he talking about, anyway? She was dying to ask but pride kept her from it.
And when she heard him cheerfully call from the kitchen - found one! - she wanted to
“ Well, aren’t we feisty today.” Apparently uninterested in pursuing an argument, he ambled lazily into the kitchen. After a moment, Eva followed. She wasn’t done ranting, and his was the only available ear.
“ You know what I think?”
“I expect you’ll tell me.” He pulled open a drawer and rummaged about, more intent on finding whatever he was looking for than in listening to her.
“ I think your days are numbered. You’ve been getting away with this for way too long. At some point someone’s going to...suspect...what the hell are you looking for?” His opening and slamming of drawers was distracting her from her tirade.
“A pencil.”
“There’s a pen right there in front of you. Are you blind?”
“Did I ask for a pen?”
“What difference does it make?”
“The difference is, this is a pen and I need a pencil. I suppose I could use the pen to illustrate the variances between the two, if necessary.”
“ I know the...God, you’re the most aggravating person I ever met in my life!”
“And you apparently never progressed beyond kindergarten.”
Her temper ignited, she snatched the pen off the counter. “I can tell you the difference between the two! The pen is the one that’s about to be sticking out of your skull!”
“I doubt that.”
“What? You don’t think I’ll do it?”
“I know you won’t.” He rested his elbows on the counter and leaned against it, smirking in a triumphant way that only fueled her anger.
“ Don’t bet on it! I could put your eye out with this!”
“What are you waiting for then? A diagram of my anatomy?”
“I’m waiting for you to...to shut up! ”
“You’re the one doing all the talking. I wonder if you ever stop.”
“I’ll stop when you’re cold dead in the ground!”
“You aren’t going to put me there with that. Why don’t you try a kitchen knife instead? Much more effective than a pen, I assure you. There’s one right behind you.”
She glanced over her shoulder at the handles protruding from the bamboo block, and traded the pen for a sharp boning knife.
“Good choice. Now, I would highly suggest you make that first blow count.”
“I’d cut out your heart, if you had one!”
“It’s right here.” He touched the spot on his chest with two fingers.
“ That’s a good one! There’s nothing there but a blackened chunk of coal!”
“Stop procrastinating.” He spread his arms out by his sides. “I’ll make it easy for you. You have a completely immobile target. Come on then, let’s see you draw some blood.”
In spite of her ire, she knew what a futile gesture it would be. The blade might look formidable, but to him it was little more than a minor inconvenience. His wounds would heal. Hers would remain. And that was that, wasn’t it?
She sighed irritably. “If I thought it would do any good...but it wouldn’t, would it?”
“Other than a fleeting moment of satisfaction on your part, no. I, on the other hand, will revel in your subsequent punishment. I can promise you that will last for hours.”
“You’re going to get yours one day. That is my promise to you. ”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” He smiled insolently.
“I never do.”
“Are you done with your little tantrum? I have work to do.” He resumed his search through the cabinets, dismissing her.
“I hope you never find a pencil,” she snapped, slinging the knife across the counter and storming out of the room. Not the wittiest insult she’d ever come up with, but she was off her game today. His arrogance made her crazy. And what work was he talking about, anyway? She was dying to ask but pride kept her from it.
And when she heard him cheerfully call from the kitchen - found one! - she wanted to
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