"I told you, you lousy miscreant, don’t ever come near me!
How dare you accost me so! What makes you think you have the right?" Maggie furiously
shoved her bangs from her face in a terse, violent motion.
"I have every right," he growled. He grabbed her arm roughly, attempting to
restrain her. She wrenched away, trying to free herself. A sickening crack
invaded the angry silence. She gasped sharply and quickly went ridged as if she
had been shot. Benedick did not loosen his tight grasp on her upper arm.
He jerked her to him with more force than necessary. Because of the pain,
she went willingly this time, offering no token of struggle. He drug her roughly 20 feet
to his waiting car. He quickly yanked open the door and slung her into the back seat.
Her injured arm smashed into the handle. She howled in pain and cradled her wounded appendage.
Benedick sped off, hurdling through the night like a bat out of hell.
He took several twists and turns and drove for an hour unnecessarily to throw
Maggie off as to their whereabouts.
Finally, he stopped in front of a small shed. He hopped out of the car and opened Maggie’s door.
"Rise and shine sweetheart. Home sweet home." Maggie glared at Benedick; all the hatred
and contempt she held for him reflected in her eyes.
"Where the hell are we?" she rasped.
"Now, now, now … is that any way for a lady to talk? Tsk Tsk, I don’t think so
… what would your mother say if she could see you now?"
"She’d say, ‘Maggie, castrate the bastard.’"
His eyes widened slightly in shock. He quickly recovered, however, hoping she hadn’t noticed
that short moment when she’d caught him off-guard. To cover his weakness he muttered, "Sounds kinky."
Margaret’s eyes narrowed in revulsion. Having had enough of their verbal sparing,
Benedick grabbed her uninjured arm and hauled her out of the car. Maggie appraised the scene
in one glance and murmured, "You take me to the nicest places."
* * *