The Grim Room

CHAPTER 40 and 41

Photo by Michael Fenton on Unsplash

Rebecca woke up to Chris’s sour whiskey breath. His eyes were unfocused and droopy. What the…? He passed her a three-quarters-empty green bottle of Glenlivit. “C’mon, baby, let’s drink. To the old days, huh?”

So he had been drinking. He had relapsed. What could she do now? It was too late. Hell. Maybe he’d be more open about his prison experience if he drank. Maybe it’d soften that serious edge. Alcohol might help. But it could, on the flip side, be dangerous. Well, either way: she had no choice now; she wasn’t going anywhere and he’d already started. And no damn cell service: how had she forgotten that obvious one? Snowbound, no cell service. Just fantastic.

And more importantly, he’d tried to force himself on her. That experience alone, of having to push and demand him off of her, was unsettling to say the least. If she lectured him, or got angry with him, he might be timid and sad. On the other hand, he might react. He might explode. She had to be c…