Cold Episode 35


He removed the earphones from his ear and stared into her room through the window. His eyes first hit the bed and it was empty. He moved his gaze around the room and she wasn’t there. Her computer was on and he thought she should be around. He made his way over to the front and knocked on the door. It opened slowly and he stood staring at Genevieve, a plate of cookie in her hand.

“Checked your room and your weren’t there,” he said and walked in. She shut the door and stood facing him.
“Matt, I told you to stop peeking in through my window every time.”
“I thought you didn’t mind.”
“Well,I do now, just stop.”
He shrugged and followed her into her room. He dropped on the bed with a bang and pulled her to his laps.
“Wait, I have to unplug the toaster,” she excused herself and ran off for the kitchen. He scavenged the room with his eyes and attention went back to the humming computer at the corner. He got up from the bed and walked to it. Her Facebook messenger was running and he decided to have a look. A message came in at the instant.

“No, got a date already.”
He looked at the owner of the message and it was August. He scrolled up the chat, rather furiously and started from the beginning. Apparently, they had been having a minor flirt both offline and definitely online.
“Care to know what I’m wearing now?” she had texted him.
“Well, if it ain’t clothes, I wonder what it would be,” he had replied.
“Well, I had red panties on but now it’s off and I’m naked under.”
“Bitch!” Matt muttered under his breath.

It disgusted him that she did more of the chase. August kept it neutral even though he kept the chat alive.
“The fuck are you doing on my computer?” she yelled, he hadn’t noticed her walk into the room. He frisked her with his eyes, disdain all over them.
“You now fuck with August or you still planning to?” he asked with disgust in his voice and eyes.
“What is that to you?”
“The fuck is he going to give you that you ain’t getting double from me?”
“Please, I don’t know what you are talking about and stay off my stuff.”
She moved closer to her, reaching for the computer. He held her by the shoulder and she stopped. Looking him deep in the eyes. The computer binged and a new message came in. They looked and it was August.

“I’m almost at your door.” the message read.

“Oh, he’s coming here too? To do what?” he asked still gripping her shoulders.
“Leave me alone,” she whimpered and his hand dug deeper into her shoulder blades.
“To fuck you, is that it?” he continued and shook her violently.
“Leave me, you are hurting me,” she yelled and pushed him against the computer. He staggered back, nearly pushing the machine off the table. He went at her with anger and grabbed her by her upper arm.

“Stop,” A voice called from the direction of the door. They turned to it and August stood there.
“Oh Matt, you shouldn’t be caught beating a girl in her house. That’s the making of a pussy and straight moronic,” he said with a smile at the edge of his lips. Matt let go of Genevieve and stood facing him with mad anger in his eyes.
“Oh no, I can’t fight you here man. Can’t pay if I break things,” August said, moving closer to them.
“You son of a bitch, you sweet talking my girl?” he snapped and moved closer to him. Genevieve sat on the bed with her face buried between her palms.

“You sweet talking my girl huh?” he repeated with a yell.
“No man, I ain’t got nothing with your girl, she’s there. Ask her,” he replied, nodding towards her.
“Go on, fuck her, she’s a bitch after all, fuck her son of a bitch.”
He brushed past him and headed for the open door.
“Do not call a woman a bitch if your mom is nothing better,” August muttered.
He stopped at the door and came at him with a blood curling yell. August turned to meet the punch at the side of his face. He staggered back and caught himself from falling on Genevieve. Matt threw another punch and he dodged to the right, catching him with his right knee on the stomach. He fell back on the floor with a whimper and immediately jumped to his feet clutching his tummy.

“I don’t want to fight with you here Matt.”

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He didn’t let him finish, he launched at him again with all miscalculations and swiped at the empty air while August sent him reeling back with a blow to the lungs. He grabbed a bottle of wine lying by the door and threw it at him. It landed on his face, knocking out his senses and icing it with a bloody cut on his forehead. Genevieve let out a shriek as the bottle landed on the wall and broke into smaller pieces.

August held his bleeding head and the blood tricked down his face and hand. Matt jumped from the ground and went for the jugular.

He punched at evey single part his knuckles could hit in succession. He hit him on his belly, his lungs and his bleeding face. August caught himself and with the pain throbbing in his head, he grabbed him by his shirt, smearing it with blood. He went berserk and jammed his bleeding head on his nose. The sound of cracking bones in his nose was followed up by a heavy thud as both their heads met with August launching the attack.

He hit him severally with his head, ignoring the severe pain in his. He pushed him away and fell him with a blow that was backed with all the strength left in him. Matt fell on the ground and crawled out of the door. He banged it behind him and ran blindly into the street. August made to give chase.

“Please stop!” Genevieve begged with a teary voice. He stopped midway and turned towards her, remembering her presence.
“Stop fighting please,” she whimpered again and he walked slowly to where she sat, aware of the banging pain in his head for the first time. He looked around at the mess in the room and heaved a sigh.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “About your room.”
“It’s okay.”
“I have to go. I don’t like what happened.”
“You can’t leave with all that blood on you, I will fix you up,” she said and got up from the bed.
“No, I’ll do that at home.”
“I insist,” she said and made him sit on the bed. He took a look around the room as she fumbled through the first aid box. He thought it was too neat for a rascal like Genevieve.

“It’s going to hurt,” she whispered as she opened the bottle of methylated spirit.
“I hope you are good with this,” he asked.
“Watch and find out.”
She poured a little of the foaming liquid on the bleeding wound and gouged his reaction. He watched her face with a smile, holding his breath and trying not to yell out in pain. He hated looking weak.
“Hmm, you are strong,” she whispered.
“Yes, you whooped his ass so easily and he is like 2 years older than you are.”
“But I have more blood on me than he does.”
She placed the sterile gauze over the cleaned wound and pressed the plaster over it.

“The blood looks good on you,” she said and smiled. “Come and clean up in the bathroom. You look like you flew out of a zombie movie.”

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