In the House of Spite Ch. 13

Author's Note: Warning, there will be some (non-sexual) violence in this chapter. Also, I'm not an expert on self defense. If any of the methods my characters use aren't realistic, then I apologize.

***

Nostalgia. So much nostalgia.

A tree made of plastic, decorated with so many different things. String lights with rainbow colors. Smooth orb ornaments of several solid colors, mostly red, purple, white, and gold. Squishy, sponge-like ornaments shaped like random food items. Strings of false popcorn, because while Pearl loved threading popcorn and hanging it up on the tree, she HATED the idea of either de-tangling it from the tree to eat or leaving it to attract pests.

Occasional hard ornaments shaped like Christmas/Winter symbols and figures, Santa Claus, snowmen, reindeer, snow-globes, and wrapped present boxes. There were even ornaments of random fantasy creatures, elegant fairies with butterfly-like wings, elves in old Medieval inspired clothes, centaurs, goblins, Western style dragons, dwarves, and even snake people. Darren and Pearl had a short disagreement over what the term for them was. Lamia or naga? They could only agree to disagree.

On top of the heavily adorned monument to Christmas, there was a ridiculous topper that look like an overly detailed Santa. If Pearl had been the one to put it there, she'd have needed a ladder. Darren had no problem with it.

Under the tree, or to be more accurate, around the tree, there was a pile of wrapped gifts. Darren had been very careful with hiding them all. He'd even ordered Pearl to hide in one of the spare rooms with her laptop to keep her busy while he either stored or wrapped the gifts. Pearl didn't mind. She actually thought it was adorable. She had her own present for him, only one, because that's all he let her get for him. It wasn't hard to keep it a secret because he was just as willing to play the game as she was.

Darren said the dogs should get their presents first, not that he thought the dogs particularly cared. It was still a fun process, getting the dog in question's attention and showing them the present, opening it up for him, then giving it to them. Each good boy received matching chew toys of varying types, special rubber toys with small holes for hard treats to fall out of, cloth and rope toys to tug on, matching new pet beds, and matching food and water bowls. They seemed more excited about the toys than anything else.

The living room was already a loud, crinkling mess of wrapping paper and sticky bows. Yet there was still a good mass of boxes to go through. Darren sat down near the tree, his long legs open and bent, and he put Pearl between them. She felt like the most pampered little loved one, and she soaked it all up. Package after package was carefully opened by her happy little hands. Wanting to save the wrapping paper for next year, she tried to minimize the damage.

A pack of plain but excellent quality socks. A tiny box of Play-Doh. Two thick coloring books full of princesses and a box of two hundred crayons (Darren had proudly said he'd gotten that on sale). A new de-tangling brush. A pack of panties. A bag of elastic hair bands. These were the sorts of things Pearl cooed at and said thank you over at this point. She was very pleased.

When there were four presents left, three for Pearl and one for Darren, it was time to see some nicer things. Darren was particularly excited about them. He tickled Pearl's ribs and kissed her head as he handed the first box to her. It wasn't very big. The box in the wrapping paper looked like some random old thing Darren had found from the garage. However, something very nice was inside. A handgun and a pack of bullets buried in packing peanuts.

"Technically, it's my gun," Darren explained as he showed her how to load it, "but I'll teach you how to shoot, and after you got your conceal carry permit I'll go through the process of giving the gun to you. There's a special purchase permit you have to get, gift or no gift. I can't just give it to you without some paperwork involved."

He showed her how to unload it. "I'll give you my three most important rules right now. One," he was putting the bullets back in their case, "never leave this thing out for anyone else to touch. A little kid, a druggie, a monster, a pet, doesn't matter. Don't be careless with it. Two," he put the gun back down under the peanuts, the same with the bullets in their little pack, "Never point this gun at anybody unless you want to shoot that person."

He closed the cardboard box holding everything together. Then he kissed her cheek. "Three, never, ever put your finger anywhere near the trigger unless you've made the decision to shoot."

"I got it." Smiling, Pearl watched him set the box aside. "It's a wonderful present, really. Makes me feel patriotic." She adjusted her back on his torso. "Everybody could use a little 'Murica every now and then."

The second package didn't have an old box from the garage. Pearl knew what it was very quickly. It was a handheld console. "Awwwwww!! This thing's expensive!!"

"So what? I'm good at saving money." He rubbed the top of her head with his right hand. "And we don't have any kids, so I can afford to get you nice things."

Pearl opened the box and looked at the parts inside. It was essentially a kit. Then she tested the buttons on the gamepads. Yep. They were satisfying. She snugly closed the box and put it aside to make room for the third gift.

The box was thin and rectangle shaped, kept in brilliant red paper with a green, square bundle of ribbon. Under the paper, the box was shown to be black, and apparently made for storing jewelry.

Trying not to wince, Pearl thought to herself, "Please don't be diamonds. Please don't be diamonds! Please don't tell me he wasted money on diamonds, one of the more commonly found, blatantly over priced gemstones on the planet!"

The lid was slowly tilted up.

Classic gold. A rope chain, not a delicate one but certainly not very big. The texture alone was rich and almost ridiculously shiny under all the Christmas lights. That wasn't the only feature. There was a little pendant. A round, white pearl that seemed to have a width similar to the nail on her fourth finger.

Pearl hoped it wasn't more expensive than the damn console, but regardless she squealed, twisted around, and hugged him. A storm of little kisses rained on his face as he laughed. Then she let him put the jewelry around her neck. She really, truly was spoiled rotten. She knew she'd never forget to be grateful. Mama always told her that when someone treated you well, you have to reciprocate.

Once she was finished giving Darren her burst of physical affection, Pearl grabbed the present she got for him and shuffled out of his lap.

Facing him, kneeling, she handed the box to him. He smiled and opened it all up. In the end, he was pulling up a huge, black, sturdy winter coat with a hood. She clapped her hands at his mildly confused smile. "I know you have coats, but I wanted to get you a really, really good one." She put her hands on her thighs. "You run in the night most days of the week, and it's so cold. I wanted to make sure you have the best coat to keep you warm."

Darren crushed the thick coat to his torso as his head lowered for a few seconds. Pearl was worried at first, but then he looked back to her, and he had a relaxed smile.

"You really are a sweet little thing," he said.

***

Turns out that recoil is a thing. The movies tended to forget about that.

Pearl's arms and hands typically ached from all the practicing, especially since she'd started it all in the cold weather. Of course, the dogs had to be kept indoors during these times, and Darren always supervised with great care. He started out with old glass bottles and tin cans, a classic form of target practice. Then he said he wanted to take her to a shooting range.

Pearl wasn't the best shot, but at least she was eager. Plus, she got regular positive reinforcement along with the honest criticism. When she told her dad about it all, he seemed really excited. "I'm so proud of you, Little Bit," Daddy had said, "and I'm glad your man's looking out for you."

Whenever the couple was out together, Pearl remembered to stay with him. If her fingers weren't in his belt loops, her hand was in his, often with laced fingers. If none of those previous options were available, Pearl would hold onto a chunk of his shirt or coat. She even joked that she should get an adult version of those safety harnesses some parents put on their little kids. She didn't think of them as pet leashes. She thought of them as a good way to keep someone from disappearing. However, she didn't want judgmental looks.

Whenever Pearl was out alone, it was bright outside. She didn't even want to go out when it rained hard.

Darren kept his promise about the punching bag and self defense. Too bad Pearl wasn't a very hard hitter ... or even a very accurate hitter, but at least she had Darren to show her how to move her body. He told her to practice just a little bit every other day. He also taught, or tried to teach, her a few useful positions and techniques in case anyone ever tried to grab her again.

Pearl was ... clumsy as all hell, but Darren stayed with her to help her practice these things. His logic was, if she could figure out how to work with a six foot something beast of a man then she could figure out how to work with lots of other people.

All that combined with the housework made Pearl very, very sore. She still managed to rub Darren's feet every once in a while, cook the meals, clean the house, and look after the dogs, but holy shit she wasn't used to all this. Sometimes Darren gave her a full body massage, and that was really nice. His big hands covered so much of her at once!

The gentle warmth of spring soon comforted Pearl's tired bones. The number thirty-one was creeping towards her, but she wasn't as concerned as other women might've been. She still had her youthful looks and a sexy man kept her comfortably safe in his house. Her insecurities nearly evaporated.

When that number finally pounced on her, they had a sort of birthday party. Nothing extravagant. The sorts of parties would one see in films were highly uncommon. There were no decorations, no DJs, no massive amount of guests. It was a dinner at the house with both their sets of parents as the guests.

Well, it wasn't a formal dinner. It was more like an afternoon of pizza. Darren got a few pizzas with varying crusts and toppings. Dessert was birthday cake flavored ice cream in cones from a box, along with an actual birthday cake. It was yellow with a lemon flavor, but the icing was plain vanilla.

And yet, there was still more wonderful news.

Where both his and her parents could see, while Pearl was putting another slice of pizza on her plate, Darren suddenly said her name to get her attention. Then he got down on one knee.

Pearl's fingers twitched and a pink area grew on her face, Nose, cheeks, and even her ears.

"Pearlie," he said very gravely, as if he was about to tell her he was secretly dying, "will you marry me?"

He held up the ring.

It was a mother fucking Ring Pop.

Out of its wrapper, the plastic ring carefully held.

Mrs. Booker laughed so hard that she had a coughing fit. Mr. Booker Senior had to rub her back. Mama squealed and bounced in her seat. Daddy rolled his eyes but he grinned. Pearl knew he was the type of guy that firmly believed all engagement rings should have real diamonds unless you were broke.

And what did Pearl do?

She narrowed her eyes and suspiciously asked, "What flavor is it?" If it was cherry, she'd be pissed, because she knew that he knew she hated cherry flavored candy.

"Strawberry," Darren told her.

Pearl left her chair to hug him. Of course she'd marry him!

She wore and occasionally sucked on that Ring Pop for a long time. When she snuggled with Baby Blue on the couch, she was so tired that she dozed off, and the plastic ring was still on her finger. The candy jewel was gone, though.

Her dream was brief and ridiculous. Her mind put on a scene where she'd sneakily tried on one of Mrs. Booker's fine rings ... for some reason. Then Pearl left and forgot she still had the ring. Desperate to return the jewelry, she ran around, looking for the old woman. Consequently, when Pearl woke up to Darren's voice, her murky brain had her convinced that she was wearing one of Mrs. Booker's rings, although she'd already forgotten what said ring was supposed to look like.

"Hey there, Boy. You looking out for Mama?"

Pearl's left hand rose to rub at an eye. She heard Baby Blue's sniffing and panting. Then licking noises.

"Aww. Good boy."

"Pa?" Pearl yawned as her vision sharpened. "Pa, I need to give her ring back." She lazily looked at him. He was kneeling on the floor and petting Baby Blue's head.

Darren's nose wrinkled. His lips drew back in a smile Pearl almost didn't like. "What are you talking about, Sweetheart?"

Pearl frowned as she looked at her left hand.

Silver metal. A heart shaped, pale stone. Tiny round accent stones on each side of the heart. The whole thing wasn't particularly large, but it did stand out, and it sparkled.

Reality returned to her. She'd never taken anyone's ring!!

"Wait." She sprang up from the couch. "What the fuck this? Where's my engagement ring?"

"That's your engagement ring," Darren insisted as he playfully flapped Baby Blue's ears. "The stones are moissanites."

Shaking her head, Pearl said, "No, my engagement ring's a Ring Pop."

Very casually, Darren said, "Nah. I threw the Ring Pop away. It was a joke."

Pearl's jaw fell. Then she snapped it back and said, "You didn't have to buy this for me."

"Don't care." Baby Blue was giving Darren one of his best doggy smiles. "That's your engagement ring."

There was no way to win. Pearl sighed and hugged him. Then she giggled because, well, she had another piece of fine jewelry, and it was an engagement ring too! She felt like a mark had been put on her, a nice mark, like a symbol of protection.

***

Gone.

Darren was gone again. He'd been ill at pretty much all day. He probably needed the run. He'd already fucked her three times, and he'd been a little on the rough side. Stress was definitely getting to him.

At least the night wasn't cold.

But Pearl was still worried. She couldn't even sleep.

After a while, she gave up. She got u and put on some socks, jeans, and a T-Shirt. Then she went to the kitchen to get a cup of water. She hated drinking from a bathroom sink. It felt wrong to her.

She sat at the kitchen table and played around on her phone. Skimming gaming forums, checking out what videos came out from her favorite content creators, looking at online stores, those sorts of things. Darren might be concerned when he returned. "Are you sick, Baby? What's wrong?" He might say that. Then, after she'd assure him that everything was fine, he'd collapse on the bed.

As far as she knew, the new online store Darren was setting up was functioning very smoothly. He had a storage unit of products to sell and a growing customer base. There was also a room in his gym for storing extra products. And that gym was also doing well. As for the wildlife preserve, while it wasn't a booming business it was at least turning a profit. It could pay a bill or two.

Maybe he needed to downsize? Sell the house, get a smaller one, and sell off one of the businesses?

Pearl shook her head at the thought. Darren loved this house. It was a monument to everything that represented himself. His hard work, his rebelliousness, his protectiveness, his strong desire to say fuck you to anyone that wronged him, it was all put into the care for this building. That was one of the main reasons he chose Pearl. In a big way, she helped to keep it in order. She took a good chunk of worry off his shoulders.

He'd probably never sell the house.

Footsteps?

Darren!

Pearl left her phone on the table and practically jumped. She ran to the front door. She unlocked and opened it.

That wasn't Darren.

Her wrist! Her wrist was taken by a rough hand!

The fingers were curled down. The thumb was up.

Knowing the weak point was where the thumb was, Pearl yanked her arm up. It almost worked. He was too strong for a true success. He tried to pull on her. Screaming, Pearl slightly spread and bent her legs, bending the seized arm, forcing her elbow towards the strange man, touching his forearm. That odd angle forced her arm out of his grasp. She heard what sounded like a Spanish curse word. She got a whiff of cigarettes and spice.

Pearl spun around to flee.

The man was still fast. He was able to get his arms around her from behind, over her arms, a sort of evil bear hug. This was horrible. Pearl was easy to lift. She knew that all too well.

She quickly forced her right leg back, putting her foot behind the man's left leg. That man's leg was now actually between her legs. She had enough movement of her lower arms. She was able to use her right hand to grab a chunk of the man's jeans on his right leg.

This movement of hers pried the man's hands loose, although his arms were still on her. Pearl's right hand released the denim, then the arm extended. She bent her right leg. She was actually able to force this man to fall onto his back with her. Her right elbow then rammed right in the man's crotch twice, each time earning a cry. Then she pulled that elbow back to pound it in his face, hitting his jaw. Once more, right in the nose. It hurt her, but she had no room to care about it.

Barking!!

Baby Blue's thick, heavy, throaty barking! Complete with growling!

Gunner's lighter, slightly scratchy, yet still deep barking! Also complete with growling!

The dogs were definitely awake!!

And Pearl didn't want to be near their target.

She rocked and rolled herself away. The dogs were soon on the man like white on rice, as some might've said. Baby Blue was the Pit Bull, but he was the kinder one. His sunk his teeth the assailant's thigh. Gunner ... well ... he went for the damn throat.

Pearl was in awe for a second or so. She'd never seen the dogs behave this way. They were definitely taking out blood.

Then common sense returned and she started running. She needed to get her phone and lock herself away.

More voices, masculine voices shouting Spanish.

Pearl's socked feet sounded like fingertips tapping drums. She sped into the kitchen.

No!!

Two sets of arms had her! Her arms and her legs!

She was being carried off!! She could see the ceiling!! She couldn't shake nor bend herself away!!

She heard one of the dogs being kicked away. It yelped and whimpered. The other dog received the same treatment.

Outside!! Tossed into the back of a van!! A man crawled in there and pointed a gun at her! If she tried to get out, she could be shot!!

Everything was futile in the end.

***

Listen and look.

That's what Pearl did.

Unfortunately, she didn't know very much Spanish. She could only understand a few words and phrases.

"To the house."

"We ... the girl."

"The boss ... there."

Almost feeling racist for thinking this, Pearl wondered if these guys were illegal aliens. She had no problems with anyone, no matter their race, that legally came to the country. Still, she imagined that the sort of Mexicans, Central Americans, and other nearby people that came from the south of USA and committed violent crimes were likely illegal aliens, not that every single illegal alien was violent. She'd read articles about illegal aliens that sneaked into USA, did some violent crimes, were deported, then sneaked back in, rinse and repeat several times.