Be Careful What You Wish For: A Zombie Apocalypse
Chapter 90: If I Was His Wife

Chapter 90: If I Was His Wife

I don’t do well with conflict.

Okay, that’s not strictly true. I’m fine with conflict, but for the most part, I won’t fight for something that wasn’t mine. I took my blows at Père’s house just fine without fighting back, but the moment either one of the Shit Stains touched Teddy, all bets were off.

It took Shit Stain Number One two months to recover from the rat poison I had put into his jambalaya.

When Shit Stain Number Two took a knife to Teddy, it took him even longer to be found and healed from the spiked pit I dug in the backyard.

The funny part was that no matter how much the Shit Stains blamed it on me, Père didn’t believe them at all. I was too broken to be able to fight back.

He then proceeded to beat me unconscious to prove his point.

It was at that moment I realized that if you seemed to be weak and broken on the outside, you could get away with murder.

"What are you thinking?" asked Tank, looking down at me. The two of us were on the couch, him sitting and me lying down with my head on his lap. He was stroking my hair as he read aloud from a book that he enjoyed.

It was almost perfect, with the gently falling snow easily seen from the windows in front of the couch. The only thing that would have made it better was if I had a cup of hot chocolate in my hand.

But Dante was too busy entertaining his ex to remember his promise to me, apparently.

"Death," I growled. I would never fight for a man who didn’t belong to me. It was just a matter of pride, as far as I was concerned. But fuck that witch. Dante was mine... what did I have to do to make sure that she left him alone?

"Anyone I know?" chuckled Dante, entering Tank’s apartment almost silently.

"Yes," I snapped, pouting. It wasn’t like I was asking for a million dollars or something; all I wanted was a frigging cup of hot chocolate. Was that too much to ask?!?

"Then maybe this will calm my Angel down," smirked Dante, walking around the couch before placing a steaming cup of hot chocolate on the coffee table. Tank made sure to study it for a while before I grunted, accepting the offering.

Sometimes it felt like Tank knew I could see using his eyes if we were touching. He always made sure to study whatever he thought I would be interested in before turning his attention to something else.

It was actually quite nice.

"It will do," I replied. "Tank’s reading ’The Art of War’ to me. Want to stay and listen?"

"I would love to," replied Dante, getting settled in one of the chairs. "There is nothing in this world that I want to do more than spend time with you."

------

Brittney glared at the inner doors of the elevator as it took her down to her floor. She and Antoine were sharing the same room, but the rest of the people she had managed to recruit were living in other apartments on the same floor.

None of Dante’s men were on the floor, and they were only on level three. Clearly, if the zombies were able to get in, they would be the first ones to be killed.

"Well?" demanded Antoine as soon as the doors opened. "Have you found out what is going on?"

Right. She was supposed to have been asking why they had power, working elevators, and running water. Even she was surprised the moment they walked into the Lair. The last time she was here, Mathew had done wonders with everything, but it was nothing like it was now.

"He keeps insisting that this place has magic," sighed Brittney, walking into Antoine’s arms. The man stiffened for a moment before enveloping her with his arms. "I don’t know. He isn’t how you described him."

"Shh," comforted Antoine, leaning back to wipe a tear from the corner of Brittney’s eye. "It’s okay. We’ll hold off killing him until we figure out what is going on. I don’t want to lose all these comforts if Dante dies without telling us how they work."

"It will take some time," murmured Brittney, her mind going a hundred miles an hour. She had mentioned this place to Antoine as an easy pickings. Mathew had been absolutely devoted to her in her past life. He might have had all the power of the criminal underworld, but he would roll over and beg the second she asked for it.

But now...

Dante wasn’t like how she remembered. He used to be like Mathew: weak and easily manipulated. It used to make her want to puke how ’strong’ men who were able to terrify other criminals to obey them couldn’t stand up to her.

No matter how ridiculous the request, Dante and Mathew bent over backward to give it to her. Dante even went into debt buying her her fifth house.

Was it too much to ask for a man to be a man?

Antoine, on the other hand, was able to put his foot down and keep it down. It kept her on her toes, and she loved that about him.

But now that Dante wasn’t giving her the time of day...

He was a lot more interesting.

"What are you thinking?" demanded Antoine, opening the door to their apartment.

Brittney walked in first, humming as she went. "Just trying to figure out how to make this place ours."

Antoine grunted as he walked over to the couch and sat down. Turning on the TV, he flipped through all the dead stations before finding a streaming service that still seemed to work.

"It’s like this place isn’t part of the world," he grunted absently as he picked a monster movie. "There is no way Dante doesn’t know how it all came about. We need that information from him before we kill him."

"I’m worried that the only way for that to happen is for me to marry him," grumbled Brittney. Going over to the fridge, she opened it to see it well stocked with food and drinks.

Grabbing a beer for Antoine, she continued. "If I was his wife, he would tell me everything. I know he would."

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