Well fuck.  Ev has not been awake much.  I think she lost a great deal of blood when I took her hand.  She should not have slapped me and spit on me!  What the hell was she thinking?  Slapping me-her keeper-her owner-her jailer…her lover.  Disrespecting me with her spit. That was really fucking stupid on her part.   She knew it would put me over the edge.  I have told her and told her to not to disrespect me!  Fucking whore has some guts.  

I had to laugh.  As stupid as she was, Ev was pretty damn set in her ways.  She was tough.   What in the world made her that strong?  What gave her the will to live?  I’ve tried to break her and break her and yet, she seems to persevere.  She made me smile.  She made my blood boil.  She was like no other woman I had ever met.  I have to at least get some answers as to why she fights so hard before I kill her.   

 I turned and glanced toward the cellar.  Of course, I was the only one who knew it was there.  There was a fake panel that led to the cellar…but to the naked eye, it looks like a wall; not a hidden entrance to the cellar.  I smiled at my originality and went to check on my little fighter. 

I looked at the bars on the window.  I could see hand prints on the glass.  I looked closer and realized the hand prints were from the outside.  That little fucker! I should have been smart enough and blocked that window.   I was trying to be nice and let some sunshine in.  That is what happens when you are nice to bitches.  Things go wrong, well; I will get that covered today!  That little fucker is persistent, I will give him that.  I wonder when he came back.  It did not matter, the cops that came by didn’t find anything out of the ordinary.  I am an upstanding citizen.  I emphasized my sympathy for the boy’s worry for his mother and I told them I would do anything to help, but I most certainly did not have that woman.   They were satisfied and were gone within twenty minutes.  They didn’t even walk around the house.  I’m glad they didn’t or they might have seen that window!  The window was filthy.  He had used a rock or something to get off the grime.  He didn’t even think about leaving hand prints.  He’s not as smart as he thinks he is.  Little fucker!

When I reached her, she looked frail.  I put my hand on her forehead.   She was covered in fine sheen of sweat. She the odor of someone who was sick with an infection.  She was obviously running a fever.  I went back upstairs and got some Tylenol to give her.  I stirred her from her sleep, put them in her mouth, and made her swallow them.  She lay limply back on her pillow.  I checked her IV.  She needed another bag of antibiotics and she needed her bandage changed.  Her stump was still seeping.  Her blood was a dark red on the gauze.  I reached over and got the gauze off a shelf under the steps.  I took her old bandage off and looked at her stump.  I could see the whiteness of her bone; the torn muscles and arteries were soldered black.  It looked nasty.

  I could smell the copper rising off the wrist.  I wondered if she was right handed and then I started to laugh.  I couldn’t stop laughing.  If she was right handed, she wasn’t anymore!  I will have to offer her a hand when she comes too, I thought and began to laugh so hard I had tears streaming from my eyes!  I was a sick fuck.  However, I had a damn good sense of humor.  When things got tough, it was very important to have a sense of humor.  You have to laugh in tough situations or tough situations will  overtake you.   

Next Chapter: Ev