Janie and The Gray: Part 20
Consequence. Part twenty of a dystopian science-fantasy serial.
He let go, stumbled back a few steps, and doubled over in pain. I coughed uncontrollably until I could breathe normally.
"I'm — I didn't — it," he stammered.
I struggled to process the anger and fear and confusion. Why did he attack me? How could he do that to me? What is wrong with him? It doesn't matter, Janie. He almost killed you. Done.
He stood upright. "I'm sorry, Janie. I —" he started to say as he walked toward me.
I pulled the pistol from my waistline and pointed it at his face. "Get. The fuck. Away from me," I panted.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he cried out, raising his hands and retreating. "I didn't —"
"You don't get to talk to me," I growled. "Sit down."
He hesitated.
"Do it or I swear to God —" I said through clenched teeth.
He backed up and lowered himself in the chair, staring nervously at the gun.
"Janie, please let me explain," he pleaded.
"There is nothing you could say," I replied calmly. "I'm leaving. I don't want to see you again."
I scooped up a few items from the couch while keeping the gun trained on him, turned, and bounded up the basement stairs.