Rage followed him home. He didn’t know what to do with it. It couldn’t be his. It must be someone else’s. Why didn’t it leave him and his Bourbon alone? He had enough problems goddamit!
Rage took him by the collar and dragged him into the bedroom. “They had sex here,” it told him and then, Rage slipped into his mind like flour skipping through a sieve. “The fucking War on Terror and now you come home to this? You deserve some respect!”
Now Rage was inside him, brewing, and he couldn’t wait for her to come through that door in her skimpy dress, especially given that she would be with that guy and he had more than enough ammunition for two.
The only problem was, he was a bit confused. It was strange, but he thought he might have killed them both already, three nights ago…
© kym darkly