Betty had just finished zipping up her raincoat when she heard his car screech to a halt outside.
Catching her reflection in a nearby mirror, she could see that the swelling on her brow had reduced, but the dark bruise had spread across her cheek despite several attempts to cover it.
She took a deep breath and walked over to the kitchenette, listening as the front door was kicked open.
She turned to look at him.
Harry was clutching what remained of his right arm. The blood-soaked stump was held within his only hand and his face was a portrait of unrelenting pain and burning rage.
Coated in his own blood, he stumbled into the living area, sucking deep breaths to remain focused.
"Where is it?" he howled. "I know you have it, *you bitch!* Where is it?"
To his astonishment, Betty sighed and lifted a nearby glass. She took a patient sip, wiped her lips and blinked at him before responding, "Oh, I'm sorry, would you like some juice?"
"Don't mess with me, you whore!" he spat and kicked the nearby coffee table. Betty remembered the day they went out together and bought it. It had been one of the good days.
"Tell me where it is or—"
"Or what? *You'll hit me again?*" said Betty and set down the glass. Harry was absolutely fuming by this point and she noticed blood was dripping through his fingers.
Luckily, she had laid out plastic covering on the carpet and furniture.
"You've been to see that old crone down the road again, huh?" he rasped, stumbling closer. "Screwing around with her *voodoo*, is that it?"
Betty smiled sweetly, reached into her raincoat pocket and produced a small piece of stuffed material neatly cut on the side. She placed it on the table top for him to see.
"Amazing what the right magic and a pair of scissors can achieve," she said looking at the trickling blood. "Just one snip and bye-bye right hook."
She flicked the little cloth limb with her finger and Harry yelped in agony, clawing at his fresh amputation.
"You think a goddamn doll is going to stop me?" he hissed through gritted teeth.
"A bit of hair, personal possessions," continued Betty to his dismay, flicking the cloth limb once more, smirking as Harry screamed.
"She didn't need a lot to make sure you'll never hurt me again. She told me that enough was enough and I didn't have to suffer."
Shaking with fury, Harry sucked in another pained breath and inched forward with all the menace he could muster.
"Hurt you? Oh, sweetheart, I'm going to put you in the ground," he growled, taking another step. "Now I'm giving you one last chance... *where is the doll?*"
Feeling a light stinging sensation, Betty reached up and gently dabbed away a tear as it rolled across the blue-black skin.
She nodded at him, lifted the raincoat's hood over her head and reached over to turn on the juicer.