Grim Reads

One last syllable is said between the two, before they head inside to alert their parties that they’re heading out. Jordan is good to drive, so Ambrosia decided it’s best if they ride back together.

The two slide into their seats, it’s silent for a moment. Ambrosia takes a second to observe the luxurious, dark interior of Jordan’s SUV. It’s kept nice and clean, just the way she likes it. The only scent inside is a hint of Jordan’s cologne.

Her eyes scan over the center console, which refreshingly has shiny silver knobs and buttons instead of a giant tablet. “This interior is gorgeous,” she states, her eyes finally making her way towards Jordan’s gaze. He can’t keep looking at me like that.

He silently holds eye contact with a slight smile, “Thank you.” After motioning towards the radio, he says, “You can put on whatever you’d like. I don’t judge.”

Despite not having any physical reaction to Jordan’s words, Ambrosia tells him, “Ooo I’d love to.” She plugs the aux cord into her phone, and scrolls through her music for a few seconds At this point, Jordan has already driven them out onto the road.

She decides on a song she saves for special core memories, the one named after her by Siaynoq. The car ride is silent during the song. Jordan spends every second absorbing it, wanting to not let go of the moment. Ambrosia rolls her window down, and relishes in the feeling of the wind flowing through her hair combined with the music.

After about 15 minutes, they pull into the driveway of Ambrosia’s house. A single floor, two bedroom, one bath, navy blue shingled house with a side garage attached. Ambrosia silently leads her guest down the stone path leading to the front door. Right underneath the front windows is a mulch bed that has deep velvety purple petunias grown to the size of a small bush.

Unbeknownst between the two, their hearts pounded out of their chest as she unlocked the door to let the man in. “Shoes off at the door. I’ve got a rack for them on the left.” She states. After getting his shoes off, Jordan swiftly hangs his jacket up in the small closet next to the shoe rack. As Ambrosia slides her loafers off, he gently glides her coat from her shoulders. The contact from his fingers linger, leaving chills behind. “Thank you,” she quietly expresses.

Ambrosia watches as Jordan observes the living room, his eyes analyzing every piece of decoration occupying space. The deep, copper walls are warm and inviting anyone to sit on the black, leather couches. Romantic picture frames along with plant stocked shelves occupy the walls. “This is cozy.”

Completely distracted by the hormones flowing through her, Ambrosia can only muster up another, “Thank you,” while keeping her eyes locked on Jordan. He looks back at her, a shy smirk forming. He silently paces closer to her, any closer and he’d be standing on her feet.

“Would you like to show me to your bedroom?” Jordan whispers. Ambrosia couldn’t be bothered to form a proper sentence. Instead of speaking, she grabs Jordan by the hand, and leads him down the hallway towards her bedroom. On the way there, she points out the bathroom.

Once the duo reaches the Prussian blue bedroom, Ambrosia shuts the door behind Jordan. He takes a few steps in, now standing next to the Queen sized bed. Jordan spends a few moments observing the night time theme going on. Silver and gold picture frames surrounding album covers and video game posters line the walls. The bed canopy has black and blue lacy fabrics and curtains that stretch all the way down to the floor.

Ambrosia‘s heart is pounding to the point where she almost feels like throwing up. “This is my favorite room in this house,” she states while walking towards Jordan. She plants herself right in front of him,”and I mean that seriously, I’m not just saying that to be sexy.” This entices a chuckle out of him.

He follows suit in sitting down, “Well thank you for being honest with me,” is expressed with a smile.

“Honesty is the best policy,” Ambrosia says with a little smile.

“Can I be honest for a sec?” Jordan’s deep voice still lowered to a whisper, sending waves in between Ambrosia’s legs.

“Absolutely.” She answers, while maintaining eye contact.

“I know we don’t know each other that well, but I’ve had my eye on you for a while.” Jordan’s face begins turning crimson, with his confession.

Ambrosia can feel that similar heat building up in her face, “Really?”

“Yeah, since we rarely ever spoke, it just felt weird saying something at work. Especially because you’re incredibly professional, and I just picked on you half the time. I thought you hated me for a while.”

“Oh no I definitely did for a bit!” Ambrosia is fully grinning at this point. “I especially hated that kid Vincent you hung out with.”

He chuckles a little bit, “Well you’re in luck, cause I haven’t spoken to him in a few years.”

“That’s good, I do have a question though.”

“Ask away.”

“How long have you been checking me out for?”

“It started,” he scrunches his face in thought, “about a year after we did the internship.”

“Oh my god, that was so long ago!” A giggle slips out near the end of her statement. Ambrosia subconsciously starts leaning towards Jordan, trying to contain her laughter. “Ugh, I miss it sometimes.”

“Miss what?”

“Not having the amount of responsibility I do now. I love work don’t get me wrong, but there are always those occasional days where it’s all too much. You know?”

“Like the ones where nothing is going your way, and pretty much everything is going wrong?”

“Exactly those days. I hate it when shit just happens to me and I can’t do anything about it. If I don’t have control of things, it makes me spiral.”

“So you like being in control? That makes sense.”

“Yeah I’ve always had control freak tendencies over the years, so I guess it makes sense that I’m a lawyer.”

“So…” Before finishing his sentence, Jordan looks at the opposing wall, figuring out how to form his words, “Do you like controlling people as well?”

“To an extent, I do,” Ambrosia fails at containing her shy smirk, secretly glad that she can admit this.

“What extent is that?”

“In the bedroom… I can be more dominant leaning, which is why I was a little hesitant earlier. Usually, guys run in the opposite direction, whenever I tell them. Which is why I haven’t bothered with dating for a while.”

“What are you into?” Jordan subconsciously leans in towards Ambrosia.

“Hmmmm,” Ambrosia squints her eyes at Jordan, contemplating on revealing her secrets. “Ok fine. I like choking, light bondage, and hair pulling are all I can think of at the moment. Not eating cooch is a huge deal breaker for me tho.”

Jordan chuckles, eyes locked onto her, “I like that. A lot.” Ambrosia looks back at Jordan, running low on the restraint she’s using to not jump on him. She takes a deep breath, looking down at his toned chest.

“So how many tattoos are you hiding under here?” She asks. Ambrosia reaches for his partially unbuttoned shirt.

Jordan’s breath picks up, “Keep doing that and you’ll find out.” Instead of proceeding to unbutton his shirt, she wraps her hand around the side of his muscular torso. Ambrosia looks back up at Jordan, whose gaze is full of desperation. She gently pulls him in, bringing his face closer.

Their lips finally connect, gently locking onto each other. Jordan’s plush lips brush against Ambrosia’s, the sensation soothes her churning stomach in the best way possible. It begins gently, their lips caressing one another. To avoid scaring away each other, they kiss as softly as possible. A sigh of relief leaves the both of them, as they finally get to feel the sensation of another person’s kiss. Slowly, they move wanting to savor every second of this moment, almost like they’re teasing each other.

Soon the pace becomes unbearable, and not enough. Gradually, they begin moving faster. As the two tango, she places a hand in Jordan’s hair, and begins pulling him in closer as if it were possible. Completely unable to hold back, soft groans escape his parted lips and into Ambrosia’s mouth. Without losing contact, she takes the opportunity to climb onto his lap.

The only noises that can be heard throughout the silent house are their lips, heavy breathing, and soft moans. Once again, their hearts pound out of their chest as they continue their onslaught. Ambrosia reaches down, unbuttoning his shirt one by one. Jordan’s arms are wrapped around her waist, his hands gently squeezing on her cheeks.

“Can I kiss your neck?” Ambrosia pulls away for a moment, to catch a breath.

Leaning back slightly, Jordan looks up at her. He’s breathing through his mouth, which is smeared in her lip gloss. “You can do whatever you want to me.” His voice combined with the sentence has Ambrosia on the verge of exploding. Her breathing picks up once again, as she begins trailing kisses down towards the nape of his neck. With his mouth now exposed, Jordan doesn’t hold back the whimpers passing through his lips. With each kiss, she sucks on the skin, gently lapping her tongue as a way to soothe the pain.

“Shit,” is the only word he’s capable of saying before another groan forces its way out into the silent air. Ambrosia tries to ease him by gently caressing his scalp with her long fingernails. By the time she reaches his sweet spot, Jordan is gripping the edge of the bed. His blunt fingers dig into the mattress as hard as they can. She pulls away again, and searches for any signs of discomfort on his face. Jordan pulls Ambrosia in for a gentle kiss, their lips softly connect for a few seconds, before he decides to confess something. “I need to eat you out. Can I do that?”

His deep voice is lowered to a whisper, hard on aggressively pressing against her core. “Keep talking like that and maybe you will.” She states. Jordan takes this opportunity to stand up while holding Ambrosia. He gently sets her down on the bed. Looking at her with pleading eyes, he slowly sinks down to his knees onto the carpeted floor.

Without looking away from her gaze for a second, Jordan begins rubbing up and down the outside of Ambrosia’s thighs. She’s slowly taking deep breaths, as he asks again, “Can I please eat you out?”

Standing up off the bed, Ambrosia peers down at Jordan. She slowly undoes her belt, and takes her sweet time unbuttoning her pants. Jordan aids her in pulling them down, revealing her underwear. “Leopard print looks beautiful on you.”

“Thank you handsome,” she responds. Jordan begins kissing her front, on top of her underwear. His hands teasingly slide underneath the satin fabric to squeeze her cheeks. She slowly lowers herself onto the edge of the bed, due to her legs feeling fatigued.

Jordan slowly brings his kisses up her torso, unbuttoning her shirt along the way. Soon after, the shirt is tossed on the floor. His soft lips gently brush against Ambrosia’s cleavage, her hands once again gravitating towards his curls. Trying to contain her whimpers, she grabs a fistful of the dirty blond hair. Once he reaches her face, Jordan softly pecks Ambrosia’s lips. Curious about what she’s thinking, he checks in on her, “How are you feeling?”

She lets out a light hearted chuckle, “Good,” she breathes out.

“Do you want me to keep going?”

“Mhm,” is all she can muster, while shaking her head. He leaves another reassuring kiss on Ambrosia’s lips, before finally resting back down on his knees. Jordan lifts her legs onto his shoulders, and starts leaving kisses up Ambrosia’s thighs. The anticipation is driving her mad. She decides to lay back and rest on her elbows, as a way to prepare for the way this is going to feel.

Jordan carefully begins pulling her underwear all the way down to the floor. Once he gets them off completely, he takes a peak at where his mouth is going in a few seconds. A sound that Ambrosia doesn’t recognize comes from his throat. Not wanting to tease her any longer, he goes in.

He starts off slow, his tongue gliding up and down. Small gasps escape from Ambrosia’s mouth, her hands grab onto the silk bed sheets. The groans Jordan let out add onto the sensation of his tongue stimulating her. “Oh my god” she moans.

It doesn’t take long before Jordan’s face is a mess, the taste drives him in further. With every lick, he goes in deeper, not only using his tongue but using his lips too. As a way to ground herself, Ambrosia grips onto her satin bedsheets.

Reluctantly, Jordan pulls away to leave a trail of kisses up and down her leg. The loss of contact where she needed it most is so disappointing, satisfying, and enraging simultaneously. She looks down at him, needing an answer for what he has in mind. Her inner self wants to get mad, but the sight of him silences every bit of protest. His curls are now a mess, parted lips are covered in slick, and gentle gaze is filled with despair. He peers up at her, wordlessly begging for forgiveness before even speaking.

“I’m sorry for stopping, but can I touch myself?” His low voice is barely a whisper. Not wanting Jordan to miss out on any bit of this experience, she grants him permission.

“Thank you,” he expresses before unzipping his pants. He strokes himself a few times, relishing in the feeling. The initial contact makes his toned abs shudder, “Oh fuck,” he gasps.

Enjoying the view of the muscular man pleasing himself, she watches him in silence. Silently observing the way he hunches over, one hand on Ambrosia’s calf.

Before diving back in, he begins placing kisses starting at her knee. He wastes no time in leading his trail up her inner thigh, and diving in head first. Even more than before, Jordan is groaning into Ambrosia’s pussy. The sensation sends goosebumps throughout her entire body. With his one freehand, Jordan slides his broad palm up towards her breast and squeezes. The feeling of his tongue flicking up and down feels even better than before, causing Ambrosia’s thighs to shake on either side of his curly head. She can’t hold back on the noise, every movement, and every noise Jordan makes, she needs more.

Once he starts stroking himself the way he wants, Jordan’s groans get deeper in sound, and feeling. As if his life depended on it, his pace on Ambrosia quickens. His tongue hits her sweet spot, then moves off then hits it again, over and over. Her stomach shudders again. His pace is relentless, it’s too much, yet not enough at the same time. To keep herself grounded, she grips onto Jordan’s muscular arm. Ambrosia hears a metal clicking that she presumes to be Jordan’s necklaces, but then he pulls his arm off of her, and pulls away.

Are you fucking kidding me? She was so close, there was no reason for him to stop. Wanting answers, she sits up to look at him. “Why did you…” Now that she’s got her answer, the question remains unfinished. A masked man stands behind Jordan, with a gun pointed at the back of his head. The intruder is fitted in all black with a ski mask, bomber jacket, jeans and combat boots. What the fuck? Everything about this image is making Ambrosia’s stomach churn, her heart aches for Jordan’s well being. The couple make eye contact, both gazes wide in fear. Jordan sat still on the floor, with both of his hands up.

Ambrosia decides to break the silence, but the moment she opens her mouth; she’s interrupted. “Get off the bed or his brains are getting sprayed all over you.” Not wanting to fuck around, Ambrosia does what she’s told. She plants herself on the floor on Jordan’s left. “Now back the fuck up,” he demands. Once again, she does what she’s told, and takes a few steps away from the bed. “You,” he taps the back of Jordan’s head with his pistol,”Put your fucking dick away.”

“You couldn’t have waited till we were done?” Jordan asks, while following orders. The unwanted guest’s tone gets even worse than before, “Shut the fuck up or I’ll kill both of you!”

“You don’t have to kill either of us. Just take what you want and go.” Ambrosia pleads. She stares at her door, wanting to escape; and not make eye contact.

His head snaps in her direction, fully sneering under the black ski mask. “The only thing I’m taking is your life.”

Ambrosia is taken back. She wasted more than half of her life wishing for death to knock on her door. Instead of living, she rotted. Instead of planning a future, she hoped for it to never show. Nearly everyday outside of school or work, she spent lying in bed. The only consistency that existed was her happiness being incredibly short lived. Her only source of motivation for becoming a lawyer was I’m gonna die one of these days, I might as well do what I want. With how well today has been going, she knew something would go wrong; she just couldn’t figure out what.

Every dollar, second, minute, hour, day, week, and year she spent building herself her dream life has led up to this moment. She spent so many years being her own personal therapist, getting fit, and working through everything she went through as a kid. Over ten years of progress are going down the train, regardless of whether she lives tonight. If this is her night to go out, then so be it. “Ok. Let’s get this over with.”

Jordan and the masked man both stare at her for a second, utter disbelief in their tones when they simultaneously ask, “What?”

Ambrosia turns toward both of the men. “I’m not fucking kidding,” she locks eyes with her brown eyed intruder, “Point the gun at me.”

The two stare each other down for a few seconds. With every second Ambrosia’s heart rate picks up faster, adrenaline flowing through her veins all the way down to her fingertips. She tries to find what resides beyond his gaze, he can barely hold eye contact with her. Her hands begin shaking with fury.

“Point the fucking gun at me,” she demands through gritting teeth. Without thinking, she takes a step towards him. The man jolts, immediately pointing the pistol right at her chest.

“Ambrosia, don’t,” Jordan instructs. She looks at him, brows remaining furrowed. Every bit of her wants to say something back, but her entire body feels like it’s going to explode. He’s worried about her safety, and this isn’t how tonight was supposed to go. Ambrosia has no argument, no rebuttal, no clever quip, because Jordan is right. If she makes any move, this is going to end with her getting shot straight in the chest. As much as she’d love that, she needs to go out with a fight. If the unwanted guest were to miss his shot, there would be a struggle. One that would not only put Ambrosia at risk, but it’d put Jordan at risk. Unfortunately for him, situations like these never end without someone being traumatized.

Without a word, she looks back up at the masked man, then at the pistol. His hand is gripping tight, trembling slightly. Whoever this guy is, he’s a fucking amateur. “Since you’re gonna kill me, the least you could do is take off your mask.”

“Fuck no,” Of course. “Go out to the living room, both of you.” Ambrosia sneers at him for a second, then begrudgingly leads them down the hallway. The stranger follows behind, with Jordan close in front and his weapon pointed at his back.

Ambrosia stops in the middle of the room and turns around, “Why are we here?” She questions, her tone blunt.

He begins pacing right at her, “You need to shut the fuck up,” once she reaches Ambrosia, he smacks her on the temple with the butt of his gun. The pain strikes her so bad that she nearly can’t feel it, it’s the kind of pain that makes you see white. Her legs give away, and she falls to the unforgiving hardwood floor.

“Vinny stop!” Jordan yells. “Vinny?” As in fucking Vincent? The Vincent who defended a rapist knowing damn well he was guilty. All because he wanted a fat fucking paycheck.

Once she’s able to open her eyes, Ambrosia looks over at Jordan. The assault combined with Jordan revealing the identity of her attacker fills her with rage. Her entire face is turned into a scowl, brows furrowed, mouth frowning. Just the concept of Vincent being in her house, makes her blood boil. The armed man stands still for a few seconds, his eyes widening through his mask with shock. She squints her eyes, staring back at his brown eyed gaze. “What?” Her eyes snap back and forth between the two men standing before her. Jordan stands in place, too scared to even look in her direction, his entire face riddled with guilt. He knew about this? Something about the intruder’s voice was familiar the whole time, familiar in a way that sounded like nails on a chalkboard, Ambrosia just couldn’t put her finger on it.

Vincent turns towards Jordan, who is still at the entrance to the hallway, “JORDAN YOU FUCKING IDIOT!” His entire upper body is puffed up in anger. Pulling a spool of rope out of one of his pockets, he makes another demand. “Get one of the dining chairs and tie her up, NOW.”

Jordan looks at him with rage riddled all over his face, yet does as he’s told. As he reluctantly heads into the dining room to fetch a chair, Vinny turns his attention back to Ambosia and returns to point the gun at her.

What the fuck are they tying me up for? Ambrosia stares Jordan down as he walks over with the chair. Right as he plants it down behind her, she looks at her wooden dining chair; then back up at him in pure disgust. “Jordan you know I’m not into being tied up.”

He takes a step closer, now in her personal space, “Just do as you’re told Ambrosia.” Despite his looming as an intimidation tactic, her eye contact doesn’t falter. The man who was just eating her out ten minutes ago, is showing her an entirely different persona. As much as she’d like to say she’s surprised, she can’t.

This is the same thing she saw in her father as a kid. One minute he was sweet and loving, the next he was throwing her around like a trash bag. There was just only one way to get him to stop, one that she unfortunately now has to use. Ambrosia tries to control the adrenaline, the only thing on her mind is knocking him out. Every bit of her is honed in on making this physical, every vein in her body is flowing with rage. As she stares into his evil eyes, she can’t utter a single word. Jordan loses patience with this staring contest, “Sit in the fucking chair!” He orders while jabbing her in the chest.

The force of his fingers sends her back to being a terrified 8 year old whose father’s parenting skills consisted of nothing but fear and intimidation tactics. The fact that Jordan would even try using his size to scare her into submission, makes her tightly balled fists shake in fury. “Get the fuck out of my face,” she warns.

“Get. In. The Chair,” with each word, he inches his face closer to hers. Aware of the man still pointing the gun at her, she can’t hold back anymore. These two are fucking cowards.

Using every muscle in her upper back and arms, she throws a right hook straight into Jordan’s jaw. The momentum of her punch sends his entire head into a tilt. Within a matter of not even two seconds, he’s out cold on the living room floor.

Before Ambrosia can fully process what just happened, she hears Vinny’s heavy booted footsteps charging right at her. He raises his armed hand, preparing to smack her with the butt of his gun. Before he can make his final movement, Ambrosia ducks down to move around his arm. Her quick instincts throw him off, which gives her the opportunity to grab his wrist.

Using both of her hands, she fully grips onto his muscular forearm, and twists the skin in opposing directions. Screaming, Vinny involuntarily loses his grip on the gun. With a clank, it hits the wooden floor.

“Fucking bitch!” With his large hands, he grabs a fistful of Ambrosia’s hair. Using all of his strength, he pulls every strand downwards, and shoves her straight into the dining chair. On the way down, the back of the chair slams into her nose, her weight smashes right through the whole thing.

Including her face, Ambrosia’s upper body lays flat on the back of the broken chair. She uses her arms to lift herself up off the ground, despite her whole body being sore from the impact. As her face rises, blood begins pouring out of her crooked nose, and pools on the wooden floor. Get up get up get up.

Right as she’s close to recovering, a fat boot kicks her in the center of her abdomen. The move sends her onto her back. Simultaneously, the pain becomes almost too much for her to move, and fuels her anger even more. He needs to die now. Vinny just stands over her, watching as she writhes in pain. Looking up at him, the satisfaction on his face enrages her even further.

With whatever strength she has left, Ambrosia grabs the chair back with both hands and slams it into the side of his leg. Due to the material being thick and heavy, it sends Vinny falling and yelling in pain. His big head slams onto the hardwood floor, with an echoing thump.

Ambrosia’s eyes shoot towards the gun that’s still lying on the floor. During the time Vinny recovers from his injury, she crawls over on all fours. The pain in her nose pulsates throughout the rest of her face. The pain and nausea combined blur her vision.

The moment her fingertips get any sort of grip, a large hand wraps around her ankle and drags her back. “NOOOOO,” she screams.

Looking back, she sees Vinny climbing up towards her, “I’m gonna fucking kill you!” He declares. Ambrosia looks back up for the gun, luckily it’s still within her reach. Using her left arm, she reaches over her right side to snatch up the gun. Vinny grabs her by both of her legs and pulls her into a position underneath him.

During the half second it takes for Ambrosia to aim the gun at his forehead, Vinny’s face drops in utter fear of what’ll be next. Without hesitation, Ambrosia pulls the trigger.

With that, blood begins trailing out of both of his nostrils and ears. Crimson splatters out the back of his cranium, turning the originally cozy home into a crime scene. For the last few moments that there is life in Vinny’s brain, the two make eye contact. Every bit of fear beyond his gaze that he conjured slowly fades into nothing. Gradually, Ambrosia watches as his soul dissipates from his brown eyes.

All 200something pounds of his now corpse plop down onto her. Immediate disgust overwhelms her as she pushes Vinny off of her, and onto the living room floor. Sitting up, she stares at his limp body, fully expecting him to get up off the floor. Her eyes analyze his shocked, lifeless face in disbelief. Blood begins pooling on the floor beneath his head, confirming a reality Ambrosia is denying. The sight completely shifts her false judgement, guilt begins to build in the back of her mind.

Coughing, Jordan finally regains consciousness. He slowly sits up, wincing at the pain in his jaw, “Ow, fuck,” he mumbles. Ambrosia’s hunched figure is the first thing that catches his eye. With sad exhaustion in her bruised eyes, she silently stares back. “What the fuck happened?” He questions.

Wanting nothing to do with the man sitting in front of her, Ambrosia continues wordlessly staring at him. In the corner of his eye, he spots Vinny lying on the floor next to her. His blue eyes widen in horror at the sight of his friend’s bloody, bullet ridden face. Gasping, Jordan’s gaze flicks right back to her. “Ambrosia what the fuck happened?”

With tears streaming down her face, she finally decides to speak. “He broke my nose, so I killed him.” At the end of her sentence, she can’t help but weep. As her lips move, the crusted over blood from her nose begins cracking. Somehow the pain in her face is progressively getting worse, her brain begins to feel distorted. With her consistently pounding heart, she has to take a breath in between each word uttered. “You fucking knew about this Jordan.”

Before responding, Jordan spots the gun in her hand. “I’m sorry Ambrosia, I caught wind of Vinny doing some sketchy shit but I didn’t think he would’ve gone this far.” Slowly, he inches towards her.

Catching on to his trick, she scoots back away from him, “Then why’d you put your fucking hands on me?”

“Because I thought if we just went along for a little bit I could’ve sabotaged him and saved you,” Jordan doesn’t stop moving Ambrosia, so she raises the gun at him.

“Then how did you know that man is Vinny?” She asks while motioning to him. “What??” Completely unaware of the franticity in his voice, he blurts out the question.

“He’s still wearing his mask Jordan,” squinting her eyes, Ambrosia analyzes his nervous fidgeting. “What’s in your pocket?” Within two seconds, Jordan quickly reaches for something in his pocket, and throws it in her direction.

A stinging sensation is the first thing she notices, as she looks down at her stomach. All the way to the handle, a knife is nestled in her flesh. Her eyes widen, and she gasps looking back up at Jordan; who is now charging at her.

Without even thinking, she pulls the trigger. A bullet blows through Jordan’s chest. At first he just staggers, leading Ambrosia to the decision to shoot a second time. Her second shot lands on his other pec, sending him into a backwards fall. With a loud thud, he lands on the hardwood floor. Regret in her heart, Ambrosia limps over to the man who is choking on his own blood. Hunched over, she stands over Jordan with a hand around where the knife landed. Struggling to breathe, Jordan stares up at her, as his lungs continue filling up with blood.

Because of her broken nose combined with her new injury, Ambrosia is only capable of taking short, quick breaths through her mouth. Apart from Jordan’s struggles to breathe, the house is now dead silent. At this point, the thundering swelling of her face is unbearable, she can barely move her head.

Looking down at him, Ambrosia can’t look away from Jordan’s fear filled eyes. Clinging on for dear life, he desperately stares up at her; wordlessly begging for her mercy. “Why’d you make me do that? I didn’t wanna do that.”

Deep down inside, she wants to kneel down next to him, and comfort him during his last moments. On the surface, Ambrosia is absolutely mortified of getting any closer to him. Having someone as tall and muscular as him mercilessly use their force on her has sent her to a head space that she never wanted to encounter again. Every memory of being a kid floods back. Every horrible experience, and everything she’s witnessed are all overwhelming her mind. None of this was supposed to happen. Why did this have to happen?

The blood polling underneath him has expanded out above his shoulders. With one last bit of life left in him, Jordan opens his mouth to reveal more blood over pouring. He musters out a weak cough, causing the crimson liquid to splash out of the corners of his mouth. With that, every bit of life behind his blue eyes disappears. Ambrosia silently watches his entire being fade from his body. Although her heart remains pounding in her chest, she feels her spirit being pulled away along with his.

Every bone and muscle in Jordan’s body goes limp. Ambrosia finally lets out a breath that she wasn’t aware she was holding. Before she can realize, more tears begin streaming down her face. The entire reason Jordan spoke to her at all, was to lure her into a trap. Not because he cared about her, not because he found her attractive, but because he wanted to help Vinny. This entire night was a set up. As she uncontrollably sobs she can’t help, but wonder who hired them.

With her exhaustion beginning to wear her down, she slowly walks down the hallway to grab her phone. The pain in her abdomen feels more intense, each time she moves her legs. It takes 30 painful seconds to reach the bedroom. Once she does so, she slightly picks up her pace, to reach the night stand. Putting the gun down on her nightstand, she raises her hands to reach for the phone. To her surprise, they’re trembling uncontrollably.