Triggered by Phillips Harrison

Author:Phillips, Harrison
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-04-18T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

So, that had to have been one of the worst nights of Rick’s life. He hated having to pretend to like these people. He hated having to make small talk. They had nothing in common. He felt sure that none of these people had ever killed anybody; if they had, that would’ve made them infinitely more interesting. But, as it was, they weren’t.

To make matters worse, Rick had been forced to watch Holly and Samantha embracing all night. They held hands, they cuddled, they kissed. Rick couldn’t help but picture them in bed together, scissoring, their legs entwined, moaning passionately as their copious juices soaked the mattress. As much as he enjoyed that fantasy, it didn’t take away the fact that he’d thought it might be him who’d be sharing a bed with Holly tonight.

Alas, she wasn’t into men.

And that’s why she’d rejected Steve so often. It wasn’t that she loathed him as much as Rick did, it was that she simply wasn’t into dick.

Did that mean she actually liked him?

No … That was impossible.

Most people were still there gone ten o’clock, when Rick finally decided to leave. It was Friday, if Rick wasn’t mistaken, and that meant there was no work tomorrow, hence the reason everybody seemed so intent on getting hammered. Apparently, the English language has over three hundred ways of describing a person as being ‘drunk’, although Rick might’ve preferred to use the term ‘hammered’ to describe a person whose face had been obliterated with a blunt object.

Whatever. Everybody here was hammered. Rick had only had two whiskeys, and only so he didn’t look completely out of place without a drink in his hand. Still, it wasn’t enough to get him drunk, and it certainly wasn’t enough to make the company of these people any more bearable.

As he’d left, he’d looked for Holly, wanting to say goodbye. When he’d found her, he decided not to disturb her; she was in a booth in a darkened corner at the back of the bar, currently entangled with Samantha, their hands crawling over each other’s bodies, their tongues slithering down each other’s throats.

Slut.

Rick drove home, despite the fact that he was legally too intoxicated to do so. He took the scenic route, passing through the red light district once again, considering if any of the whores there might be tempted to let him slice their throat. Those cunts would do anything for money.

He decided not to stop.

Back home, his neighbour’s car was not in the driveway. He must’ve been at work. Rick wondered if that meant the lady of the house had her gentleman caller over to play once again.

Inside, the house was quiet. It seemed likely that Andrea was already in bed. She seemed to be going to sleep earlier and earlier now. But that suited Rick just fine; it meant she wouldn’t disturb him as he tried to write his book.

He decided that was what he was going to do now. He’d pour himself a whiskey, then spend a few hours trying to get those first words onto that page.

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