Chapter Four

 

Let’s Talk About Daisy

 

“Yeah, you can leave when I’m finished.”

Hanes sat back on the bed, leaning against the white, lumpy cement wall. He drew his knees up toward his chest while resting his chin on the bones. With a distant glance at the cell’s rear Hanes started the story about Daisy. Edwards gave Hanes permission to tell how he met Daisy at a club one night, but never named the place.

Daisy was at the bar, two spots down from Hanes, glancing around the crowded dance floor. Hanes said the club jammed with people wandering off beat to the music. “They looked like sweaty couples having sex everywhere.” Hanes laughed.

He talked about watching Daisy the entire time staring at her huge breasts two large melons bursting out of the cream, low-cut blouse. She had ordered a Sex on the Beach. He looked long and hard at her full lips wrapped around the straw, sucking the drink. Hanes felt aroused from the red lip gloss.

Finally, Daisy looked up saw Hanes watching her. She smiled. He smiled back. Hanes then turned toward the bar, tapped its exterior, demanding the bartender give him a beer. His glass soon filled with beer; white foam dripping from the rims when the server handed it to Hanes. He picked up the glass walked toward the woman he had watched all night. Startled, Daisy looked up saw Hanes standing right next to her.

They exchanged introductions, danced, then headed back to the bar an hour later. They talked about going to Hanes’s apartment.

Twenty minutes later, they pulled into Hanes’s driveway on Lumber Street. He cut the motor. They got out entering the apartment. Hanes tossed his jacket on the sofa mentioning for Daisy to have a seat in the living room. He asked her if she wanted another drink. She said she just wanted a Coke. Hanes went into the kitchen grabbed a can of Coke from the fridge. After handed it to Daisy, he went toward the bar in the left hand-corner, fixed himself a martini.

They made casual conversation about how often they visited to the club. Hanes said he couldn’t keep his eyes off Daisy’s big breasts tempted to fondle them on motivation. Well, he that attempt shifted into action. She got mad slapped his hand away from her chest. Calling him a list of names such as pervert, rapist, asshole, she jumped from the sofa. Daisy brushed something away from her black, leather mini skirt, turning away. She leaned over grabbing her pocketbook.  Hanes bragged about how he saw her thong under the skirt. They stretched out in her ass.

Daisy twisted back to Hanes told him it was time for her to leave. Hanes got furious, grabbed Daisy by the arm, yanked her backward onto the sofa. Shocked, she bounced up, slapped Hanes across the face. One fingernail glazed his skin. A cut punctured his cheek. With the fury of a psychopath, Hanes grabbed Daisy by the neck strangling her! Then he slapped her three times across the face, she spun, collapsing on the floor. Hanes grabbed chunks of her hair, dragging her toward the balcony. He forced Daisy to stand in front of the glass doors demanding her to strip naked. The poor woman sobbed, begging him not to hurt her. But, Hanes ignored her pleas.

He slapped Daisy three separate times thereafter.  Wrapping his hands around her throat, he strangled her a second time. She fought to get his hands away from her neck, but he was too strong. He slapped her hard enough knocking her on the floor. Hanes climbed on top of Daisy, smashing her face to a bloody pulp. Then he pulled out a dagger from his back belt, raised the blade upward plunging it into Daisy’s chest. Her eyes swelled. She gasped as her hands flew up to the dagger. Her body tense. She choked on blood oozing from the corners of her mouth.

Hanes repeated she deserved to die buried under stages of graveyard dirt.