David Literally Stands Up For His Wife

David rose silently, and in two strides caught up to the woman. Grabbing her arm, his hand circled her wrist without touching it, but with an iron firmness as though she were cuffed. David smiled, yet his smile seemed less of human warmth, and more like the warning of some great gorilla.

In a tone of casual observation he said to her, "You see that wall? I figure it's just a bit of paint and plaster over two inches of plywood. I'm pretty confident I could throw, say, 130 pounds through it and onto the concrete sidewalk beyond. I don't know, but I have a sudden hankering to test my theory, if I get a reason. Go, help Lauren, and if any words that spill from your chicken liver lips aren't dripping with sweet honey, you and I shall run the experiment together, deary."

With this David released his grip. Looking into his eyes Veronica had been prepared to sneer, to shout, to say something, anything, but a primal terror crept into her, for the first time in her life, flowing into her soul from his eyes. A small spurt of piss shot into her poise pad, and all she could stutter was, "Y-yes, I better go help Lauren, I mean, really help her!"

"Awww, cooed David, that's sweet. You ain't such a bad old crone at that.", and sat back in his chair, filling it as though armchairs were being worn tight that season, and he knew it, while gazing at Lauren's stunned sister the way man-eating tigers must when they are filled with vengeance for some hunter who has killed their mate.