PseudoPod 951: Last Supper
“Last Supper”
by Richard Dansky
The night I put down her brother, Cecily didn’t want to make love. I reached for her in the bed we shared in the massive farmhouse she’d inherited when she became leader of the pack, but she pulled away.
“Not tonight,” she said. “I don’t want those hands to touch me.”
“Is this because of your brother?” I asked.
She rolled over and stared at me, blonde hair flopping over one eye. “Of course it’s about Cole,” she said. “You killed him today.”
Carefully, I drew my hand back. “You know why I did it,” I said. Not accusing, just a statement of fact.
She let out an explosion of breath. “I know. I told you to do it. And someone had to. But I don’t want the hands that pulled the trigger on my brother touching me tonight. I need some time to mourn, and I can’t do that by sleeping with his killer.” (Continue Reading…)
