CHAPTER EIGHTEEN — CAUGHT IN THE ACT! #2
She bolts, out of the kitchen and down the hall, knife still in hand, big tits bouncing as her ass sways. I run after her, wincing every time my heel hits the floor. I’m shirtless, blood dripping onto the waistband of my sweats, and all I can think is: I have lost every last bit of control.
She bursts into the bedroom like an avenging angel, knife held high, hair streaming out behind her. James is standing over the bed, one hand pressed to his ribs, blood streaking his face and chest. He turns at the sound, and for the first time in his life, I see him flinch.
“Stop,” she screams. “Just stop it or I’ll cut your balls off!”
We all freeze, the three of us: Marnie, nude and lush, knife raised; me, bloodied and winded, crouched in the doorway; James, breathing hard, arms up but backing away.
Obviously, I’ve lost complete control of the situation.
The room is a disaster. Broken glass everywhere. The mattress half off the frame. The closet doors ripped off their tracks. Blood smears on the wall and streaks on the carpet. But none of it matters. The only thing that matters is the knife in her hand, and the look in her eyes.
“Put it down, Marnie,” I say, voice barely above a whisper. “Please.”
She laughs, brittle and wild. “You think I won’t use it? I’m going to dismantle both of you, starting with your dicks! How would you like that, huh?”
James licks his lips, slow, measuring. “You don’t need to, baby girl. We’re done. Okay? Our dicks are safe. Our balls are safe. We’re done.”
He holds up his hands, palms out, and for a second the mask cracks. I see something raw in his face—shame, maybe, or fear.
Marnie’s arm drops a fraction, but she doesn’t lower the knife.
“You two are animals,” she sneers. “You don’t care about anything. You’d kill each other, just to win.”
James wipes blood from his mouth, and shrugs. “Probably.”
I step into the room, careful, every muscle ready to dart if she swings. “You win, Marnie,” I say. “Just put it down. Please.”
She looks at me, and for a second I think she might cry, but then she straightens her back, chin up, knife still aimed square at my chest.
“Not until you both calm the fuck down,” she spits. “Not until you get it through your heads that I am not a prize. Not a fucking thing to be fought over.”
We stare at each other, a triangle of violence, no one moving.
Finally, James lets out a shaky breath, then sits down on the edge of the ruined bed, wincing as he does. He looks smaller, diminished.
“I’m sorry, Marnie,” he says, and he means it. “I didn’t mean to. It’s just when I saw you with him, I lost control.”
I glance at her, then at him, and a wave of shame burns up from my gut. I want to say I’m sorry, too, but it sticks in my throat.
Marnie stands there, trembling, knife still up, but she’s in control now. She’s the only one who is.
We wait. No one talks. The blood from my nose ticks off my chin and onto the carpet, each drop a bright crimson stain.
It goes on for a minute, maybe two.
Then Marnie lowers the knife, lets her arm fall to her side.
She looks at me, then at James, and then at the mess of a room.
“You two figure it out,” she harrumphs. “I’m getting dressed.”
She backs out of the room, eyes never leaving us, and disappears down the hall.
We sit in the dark, breathing hard, the silence thick as syrup.
I glance at James. He looks at the floor.
Nobody won this, and we only have ourselves to blame.
It takes a full minute before either of us moves. The blood is sticky on my upper lip, drying in a crust that stings when I try to wipe it. James is hunched over, staring at his busted knuckles. The place smells like copper and sweat and, weirdly, the faint lilac sweetness of Marnie’s shampoo.
When the bedroom door creaks open, she’s back in the same state as before—nude except for a tiny towel hugging her frame, her hair a tangled halo, the knife still in her grip. She looks more composed now. Or maybe just drained.
She stands there, watching us with the flat, glassy eyes of someone who’s cried out every last tear.
James tries to speak first, but his voice is wrecked. “What do you want, Marnie?” It’s not a question so much as a plea, his handsome features lost.
She shifts the knife to her left hand and picks at the edge of the sheet. “I want you to stop fighting over me. I want you to act like grown men, not—” She laughs, hollow. “Not whatever that was.”
James gestures at the mess around us. “You made us like this.”
“Bullshit,” I cut in, my voice hoarse. “You’ve never needed a reason to go full animal, asshole.”
James rounds on me, teeth bared. “And you haven’t? You were fucking her behind my back.”
My stomach drops. “Okay yeah, so I was. So what? She wanted it.”
Marnie cuts me off. “Stop. Please. It’s not what you think.
” She slumps onto the edge of the bed, knife dangling uselessly.
The towel slips a bit, revealing a big, ivory breast, but she doesn’t care.
“I never meant for any of this to happen. I was just trying to survive my life and you two—” She breaks, tears starting up again, “—you two made me feel alive, and I didn’t want to let that go.
I didn’t know what to do either, and I’m just so confused. ”
James paces, a caged beast, then slams his fist into the already-ruined closet door. “So what, you’re just going to string us both along until you get bored?”
She sets the knife down, stands, and faces him, eyes rimmed red but steady. “I love you both, okay?” Her voice is a whisper. “Is that so hard to believe? But I didn’t know the rules, and I still don’t! So what was I supposed to do?”
For a second, there’s just the tick of the busted lamp bulb, the faint wail of a siren from the street below. Then I hear my own voice, weird and unfamiliar, saying, “I believe you.”
James’s shoulders sag. “Jesus, Marnie.”
She lets out a long, shuddering breath. “I’ve been confused, okay? I tried to ask whether it was okay for me to date you guys one on one but I never got the opportunity, and I didn’t even know how to ask it. I mean, how do you say, I already fucked your friend without you there. Is that okay?”
I smile wryly.
“Well, you just asked the question pretty good right now, sweetheart.”
She turns to me, eyes flashing, the knife lifted in her hand again.
“I will cut your balls off, Brent, so help me god.”
This time, it’s James who answers.
“None of this is your fault, Marnie. The problem is that both Brent and I are greedy fucks.”
I nod. “I have to agree with that statement.”
Marnie looks up, eyes shining. “So what now? What happens going forward?”
I shrug. “What do you want to happen, sweetheart? And by the way, I’ll take the blame for my actions. I absolutely pursued you on my own, without letting this dude know,” I say nodding at James. “So I put you in an impossible position.”
“As did I,” my law partner admits in a low voice. “I’ve enjoyed our one-on-ones, Marnie, and the sex has been incredible. But yeah, I never said anything about our interludes being “wrong” or “against the rules,” so that’s on me.”
The three of us stare at one another.
“So what do we do?” the curvy girls asks in a helpless whisper, looking between both of our stern expressions. “I’m caught in the middle with no idea of what comes next.”
I reach for Marnie’s hand, careful not to startle her. The curvy girl lets me take it, and James, not to be outdone, slides onto the carpet next to us, resting his battered arm on her other knee.
We’re a disaster. But we’re a disaster together.
And we’ll figure it out together, because we’re stronger together.
Apart, we’re a mess. Apart, there are miscommunications, missed signals, and full-on physical fights that turn insanely violent.
Only by figuring this out together can we make headway in the dirty, rancid threesome that we all enjoy.
“I never thought I’d be in this position,” Marnie murmurs.
James grins, teeth streaked red. “You mean, literally?”
She rolls her eyes, but the smile is a bit more brave. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah,” I say, and settle in beside her. “We do.”
We don’t say anything else. There’s nothing left to say. The city outside keeps humming, the blood dries on our skin, and in the darkness, all the old anger burns away, leaving something sharp and new behind.
Tomorrow, everything will be fucked up again. But tonight, for once, we’re on the same side.