Brenda agrees, but doesn’t want to stay with Mitch.

Brenda looked helplessly into the big man’s eyes and weighed her options. There was no win/win situation that would be in her favour. She had seen the ruthless way the big thugs had beaten Mitch up and the man’s eyes told her he was capable of much worse.

“Alright,” Brenda said, “but, I don’t want to live with that mother fucker anymore!” She motioned towards her husband. In her mind he was not the sweet man she had married, now he was a manipulating asshole. The last thing she wanted to do was stay with him until she had HIS debt paid in full.

“Fine, lady,” said the guy holding her hair. He released his grip and took her by the arm instead.

One of the thugs with short hair looked down at Mitch who was now on all fours. “See ya later, Mitch,” he said before pulling back his boot and launching it into Mitch’s gut. The kick brought Mitch off of the floor and sent him tumbling across the floor.

The longhaired man reefed on Brenda’s arm, pulling her up from the chair. Then, the three of them made their way to the front door. The man holding Brenda pushed her forward out the door then looked at his two cronies. “Put her in the back seat with you, and make her comfortable,” he snickered.

The two did as they were instructed, both taking one of Brenda’s arms. The ringleader stepped back into the house and began smashing things at random. Once he felt satisfied with the damage he walked over to the remains of the glass end table and bent down. Mitch could barely hold his head up long enough to see the man take their wedding picture and put it into his jacket pocket. After taking the photograph he stood up and gave Mitch one final kick, straight in the face. Mitch yelped in pain as his head swung backwards, spraying a mix of blood, spit and even a couple teeth on the carpet.

The large man with the pony tail climbed into the car with a grunt and slammed the door shut. He took a quick glance into the back then turned his attention back to the car. He powered up the big Oldsmoble and swung it out into the street.

“Aren’t you a sweet one?” said one of the thugs sitting beside Brenda. “Ugh huh, Big Mac will like you,” agreed the other sitting on the opposite side.

“Are you comfortable, Brenda?” asked the first one again, emphasizing on her name.

At first she just rolled her eyes, then decided she wanted to know more. “I’d be a lot more comfortable if I knew your names,” she told them.

“Yeah, well I’d be a lot more comfortable if you were sucking on my prick!” He told her harshly.