Avalon

 

Flint stops in front of a diner. The parking area isn’t crowded, there is only one car and two bikes. Inside the diner is a little bit ragged, but the scent of coffee makes up for it.

We choose a table and wait for the waitress.

I look around the place, trying to see if anyone takes notice of us. There’s a family in the corner who mind their own business and two bikers talking loudly.

A waitress comes to us with a smile on her face. “Happy Halloween. Coffee? It’s on us.”

I nod, smelling the scent I love so much. They didn’t let us drink coffee in the asylum. As we’re about to give our orders, the bikers decide to change their seats and they sit just in front of us. One of them hits Flint’s chair as he pulls his out and the other winks at me, I quickly glance away with a grimace.

“We want bu-bu-...” Flint tries to give our orders, but I know he’s tense from the aggressiveness rolling off of the bikers. I touch his hand, caress it.

The waitress smiles at us. “Don’t mind them,” she whispers. I like this girl.

“We want two burgers and two sodas,” Flint says.

“Coming right up.” She beams at us and goes toward the kitchen.

“What’s the meaning of your tattoo?” Flint asks, pointing at my neck. It’s the only tattoo I have.

“I don’t really know. When I was a kid I had a dream. I don’t remember much of it, but I remember how happy I was when I woke up and the only thing I could comprehend from the dream was the number thirteen. I used to have premonitions when I was a kid, that’s why my dad used to get my help for his job. He was a fortuneteller. But then he started to give me some medicine and those premonitions just disappeared.”

“Thirteen is my favorite number. People call it unlucky, but I love it.”

I nod. “I noticed. Maybe I saw you in my dream, huh?”

He grins at me. He becomes even more handsome when he smiles like that.

I think of my dream as I touch my tattoo. I don’t remember anything about it, but maybe Flint and I are meant to be.

I smile. I like this idea.

When the waitress comes back with our food he rubs his hands together with an almost childish smile on his face and I moan at the smell of our deliciously unhealthy meal. We eat in silence. With Flint, silent is good. It doesn’t make me nervous or restless. With him, I feel at peace.

Yes, we are meant to be.

When I’m done eating, I look at him. “So, are you ready to get your revenge?”

His answer comes without hesitation, “More than ready.”

I grin at him. “I’ll go to the restroom and then we can hit the road.”

“Restroom? Will you kill someone again, babe?” he asks, smirking. The amusement and excitement behind his eyes make my soul soar.

I laugh. “I’m not planning on it, but we’ll see.”

After finishing my business, I stand in front of the mirror. I comb my hair with my fingers and pinch my cheeks to make them pink. I want to be pretty for Flint. I always want him to look at me like he did when we had sex. I clench my thighs with the memories of him inside me. It was amazing. He was just everything I wanted. My arousal turns to rage when I remember the things he told me about his past.

I’m excited to get his revenge. I’ll dance over their dead bodies.

“Look at the naughty school girl in here. You look lonely. Want someone to keep you company,” one of the bikers says. I meet their eyes in the mirror and make a fist as they look at me with disgusting hunger.

“Fuck off, assholes!” I snap and make an exit, grabbing my trench coat from where I hung it. The other biker who has piercings almost everywhere on his face stops me, laughing. I try to free my arm from his hold, but he’s strong. He twists my arm and covers my mouth so I can’t scream.

The other one is trying to touch me as his friend holds me. I try to kick, bite, but my attempts aren’t successful.

He smashes his sloppy mouth on my jaw, trails his disgusting kisses to my neck as his friend fondles my boobs.

“Get off of her!!!” I hear Flint’s growl before the guy holding me is ripped away from me. Flint’s growl is almost animalistic. I hear punching sounds, but I’m focused on kicking the other one. He’s caught off guard so he stumbles back from my attack. I scratch his face until I draw blood. I jerk my head to the right when I hear a strangled grunt followed with glass shattering. Flint smashes the guy’s head in the mirror over and over again.

The guy I kicked uses the advantage of my slip and he pulls me to the floor with him, I scream and try to kick him again, but he ditches my attempts. I try to reach out for a piece of mirror on the ground, Flint is calling out my name but he’s still busy hitting the guy. Grabbing the piece of mirror, I sit up quickly and push it into his eye socket with all the strength and force I have in me. His blood sprays on my legs and I shriek, but not from disgust, from excitement.

Giggling, I turn to watch Flint. He’s looking so hot as he punches the guy’s bloody face. His nose is already smashed, but he keeps hitting. The blood is dripping from Flint’s knuckles. His muscles tense, his veins pop with every punch he delivers. The sounds he makes pumps adrenaline through my body. His hand around the guy’s neck makes me think of him choking me as he thrusts into me. I feel my arousal wet my thighs as I watch him. My body tingles, my skin breaks into goose bumps, and I bite my lip from the desire swirling inside me. I want his strength, I want his rage. I want to hear his animalistic growl as he fucks me hard.

I moan. I want to jump on him and ride him like a rodeo right here, right now.

Who would have thought murder can be sexy?

Fuck…

This guy is all I need.