Damon felt the disrespect clearly, angering him. He made himself a coffee, and again Bridget came into the kitchen."Bridget, I thought it was just going to be us. Now even you are giving me the cold shoulder." Fuck, Damon, stop being so fucking needy!" she snapped.“Needy?” Damon dropped his voice, fighting for control.“Yes, Damon, needy. Please do not make this the way you are going to be for the break.”“I won’t, Bridget. But I did expect some form of respect, that you loved me.”“Look, Damon, respect my choices. We are not official or exclusive. We are friends.”“With benefits for you only. I am sorry, Bridget, this will not work for me.”“Suits me, please leave me to enjoy the break.”“Sure, Bridgy, I will definitely do that.”“We can talk later, Damon,” Bridget said harshly.“No, Bridget, I will not talk about it again. Go have your fun, I will have mine. Get the fuck out of my sight.”She looked at Damon with shock and saw the hurt in his eyes, then the rage. He could see she was in two. She dropped to her knees, unable to utter a sound as the fear rolled down her cheeks in the form of tears. The lump in her throat was unbearable, and she wrapped her arms around herself in the cold, black night. Then she remembered that the reason she came here was for a jacket. She was too afraid to so much as get up though, knowing that something had just killed Nick and Matt and was could be watching her at this very moment. She looked over their bodies, but the guns they’d had before were now gone. Then she remembered that her parents had always kept a gun underneath their mattress. The mere thought of going back in that room was overwhelming, but it looked like her best chance for survival at the moment. Michelle looked around, observing everything in sight with the utmost attention. She could find nothing. It was always possible that whomever had done this didn’t account on her being around. Or didn’t care. Slowly she got back up and walked backwards back into her house. She.
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