Viscious 2: Cult of Kellan

Promises.

I let the dogs and pups out one last time, and I double check the window and back door locks before we leave. We have cameras too, that I can pull up and check from my phone should I feel the need. It eases my anxiety tremendously. Dallas sighs and practically packs me from the house and into the car.

It's a new car, less flashy than Dallas prefers, but perfect for me. It blends in with everything else, catching little attention and it has power door locks. I can click one button, and all doors would be locked in an instant. It has a backup camera so I can see people behind us if we put it in reverse. Even better are the tinted windows! No more middle fingers and cameras flashing when people think they recognize me. It is peaceful.

Dallas would rather drive his fancy sports car, I know, but he understands how I feel about attention and often sacrifices his style to accommodate me. In a literal sense, I suppose I cramp his style. In his defense though he is quite used to unwanted attention. Being the good looking son of wealthy and well known parents he has never been able to fly under the radar.

Luckily for me, I grew up basic and to a lower class family. Nobody really cared what I did, and I preferred it. I never worried about politics, popularity or wealth. I was only concerned about books, food, art, and animals. Even when Dallas and I married, I never cared what was in his pockets or who his family was. I never put on to impress snooty family friends or acquaintances. If I had, he probably would not have cheated though. Or turned to drinking. I often wonder how much of that was my fault, until I remember he is a grown man and he could have communicated much better if I were a problem.

"So, what would you like to get into this evening? Besides dinner I mean. There's a bunch of new movies playing, any catch your eye?"

"We could stop by the flea market!" I blurt a bit too excitedly. I love the flea market, but I've been reluctant to go for so long. If I'm going to be out already though, as long as I'm quick I should be fine. "As for movies, anything sounds fine so long as it's not horror or romance."

"So no sex and no stabbing?" I pinch the bridge of my nose. It still makes me uncomfortable how Dallas is so cavalier about sexual things. My face turns red with embarrassment and I push my forehead into the window like a dog. If only I could roll down the window and stick my head put without looking even more unstable.

"Basically yes."

"Are you blushing?"

"No."

"We were married five years. It's not like we didn't ever-" I dismiss him with an annoyed hand.

"You need to calm down sir. I've never seen you a day in my life. And for the record, you are being a bit excessive."

"So you are seriously just going to pretend we were never together intimately?"

"Yup." I feel a bit bad when his head drops.

"Well I'm not. I miss it. I know that's selfish, but I miss us together. I know it's my karma, I'm the one who destroyed is in the first place, but I can never forget how good I had it." I sigh and slump. Not now. Not this conversation again. Each time it whittles my resolve thinner and thinner.

"I was trying to pick at you. I wasn't meaning to hurt your feelings. That's why I blushed. I remember too much. It often makes me feel awkward I guess. This-" I gesture over myself. "Is how I cope. By being a sarcastic, selfish asshole."

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. A truce?" He smiles and I scrub his head with my fingers.

"I guess. I'm afraid to say no. You'll hurt me."

"You aren't lying." He turns off and I lighten a bit as I see the large flea market come into view. There are many here, but he knows which one has always been my favorite.