Hard Hitting Questions Novels & Stories

“Hey- “he complained as he dodged the bag from hitting his head but was a bit late from dodging Harley when she lunged herself at him. “You- “she hit his arms. “Told” Hit. “Your.” Hit. “Evil.” Hit. “Step.” Hit. “Mother.” Hit. “That.” Hit. “I” Hit. “Was” Hit. “Drunk.” Hit. She stopped hitting his hands and glared down at him, his face was up in a smirk as he stared back at her. The idiot didn’t even bother to block. “Violent Red is one character I want to see all the time.” He remarked.

“Of course, you have to answer my question to you. So, what's your answer? The light is on or off?” “All right, on?” then suddenly they shouted. “Ssh, be quiet. Next question ma'am, chocolate or sex? ” “Huh? Wait, choco-” he didn't let me finish speaking, and he immediately changed the question. “Next question, Hotel or motel?” Whatever he asks me, i always feel like i'm on a hot seat. “Hotel?” then they shouted again. “Is it exciting, ma’am? This is the next question. Is he muscular or handsome?”

He asked clearly testing me when they already got it from the trance. "sir you got the wrong girl." before I could continue on pretending, he cuts me off again by punching me on the gut. It's only been less than half an hour but I'm already feeling so much pain, I don't think I can last a whole hour. He keeps questioning me but all my lies are not passing through. He question after another question when I lie after another. Every answer I give Is equal to a painful hit. I might as well give up before this assault continues. My face is completely battered I don't need a mirror to confirm that it's swollen.

“The question should be, are you leaving here alive after killing my men?” I looked at the lady closely, trying to recall who she was, but I had no memory of her. “Your men?” I asked. “You don’t get to ask me questions,” she said, her legs moving to a seat opposite mine. “Why am I here?” I asked, forgetting she had told me not to ask her questions. A hard slap landed on my face, the type that made me see stars. “You don’t get to ask me questions,” she yelled, her voice thundering in the whole building, making everyone silent. Even her men felt the impact of the slap on my face.

Did he hurt you? She is still shaking and scared but she didn't answer my question. So I asked again. ' where did he hit you? ' She still didn't answer. Now This is getting frustrated, I am trying to comfort her but she isn't even answering. Never in my life have I ever comforted anyone and she is fucking disrespecting me by not answering. I tightened my hold on her arm and asked strictly. ' Answer me, kid, where are you hurt? , where did he hit you? '

He didn’t ask questions. Instead, he walked straight up to him and, with all the rage, hurt, and frustration buried inside him, he slapped the man across the face hard. The force of it sent a sharp crack through the air, making the traitor’s head snap to the side, blood splattering from his mouth onto the floor. Before he could even register what had happened—Dante slapped him again. And again. And again. Each hit was harder than the last, fueled by the emotions he had been bottling up.

"Extra spicy. I hope it burns your tongue off." Noah settles into a stool, watching me move. "I like the heat, Minnie. You should know that by now." "Why do you hate your brother so much? Why do you always try to take everything good that he has? Why don't you like the fact that I'm dating him?" I blurt out the questions all at once. "Don't ask me questions you don't want the answer to." He mutters, already scrolling his phone, his attention divided. "No, seriously. I want to know. What has Hardin ever done to you? Why do you hate your brother..."