Hey gang! Sorry, we don't have internet at our house, so I've been kinda, ya know....out of things for a bit.
SO. I'm in a bit of a pickle. Steve and I fight almost constantly, haven't slept together in almost a month, and he decided to start working nights again. Does anyone remember what happened the last time he worked nights? Do ya? It was horrid. Terrible. And it still is. Because not only do I have to watch Alex all day, and not go anywhere or do anything, but then he works all night, so I have to take care of Alex all night as well. Not only that, but when he is home and not asleep, he's on the computer.
What about his freaking family?

So yeah. I've been going without affection, but trust me, we've been fighting a lot. Yesterday, for instance. He told me he hated and loathed and despised me. He's said about 3 times now. I know, I should leave, right. I mean, he told me that he's been thinking about cheating on me, and says it's my fault.

On the other side of the spectrum, I definitely am tired of the relationship. I don't even care if he has sex with someone else, or falls in love with someone else. Not anymore. I just want to run away. If he'd let me get my license, instead of keeping me at home and telling me we don't have the funds, I'd have left a long time ago, and he probably knows it.

I think all that's left at this point is the getting it over with. Figuring out who will get what, custody issues, and all that.

Personally, I'm wishing he'd just leave.

And Gabe's in town. No, I'm not spurred on because of this, I just...I guess I miss him. And need someone sensible, even if it's for just a few hours.

Ugh. I'm in a triangle of confusion. I just need to get my own place.

I stepped back defensively.
"Oh, are you gonna shoot me again?"
I could see he was angry-but what bothered me was that this guy was taking the pain in stride. Not only was he taking it in stride, but he was still finding time to be sarcastic about it. I suddenly felt scared.
"Now you know I'm not messing around. I don't want to kill anyone. So just get down, on your knees, and-"
He snickered and took a step towards me. He was shaky, probably because his body was going into shock, but he seemed determined to fight this until the very bitter end.
"..and...put your hands on your head."
"Why not shoot me again? It feels so good!"
He grimaced as he moved the leg I shoot, but still laughed.
I snapped.
"Fine."
I pulled up the gun and shot him in his arm, and he spun around from the impact. He let out a howl of pain and dropped to his knees. Immediately, Greg jumped up, and did an elbow strike to the back of his head, causing Ugly to slump down, unconcious.
I leaned back against the wall next to the doorway.
"Did you call the number?"
I nodded, breathing heavily, and trying to keep my eyes open. He nodded, smiled just a little, and went to help the other men up.
I surveyed the room. There had to of been 7 guys, no older than 30. They all wore civilian clothes. None of them looked hurt. The room itself had several computers. Nothing out of the ordinary. It just looked like a gamer's haven.
"how....how did he know that you were spies?"
A tall, pale skinned man with black hair spoke up.
"We were careless."
I nodded. "Well, that makes sense. I imagine you probably can't talk about it with a civy."
He jerked his head back at me, as did every other man in the room.
"You aren't....DOJO?"
"Not particularly."
Greg looked at them and then me.
"She's informed. DOJO has her cooperation in deliveries."
Pale skin sneered.
"Delivery girls aren't privy to that information."
I glared at him, fixing my gun back into it's usual place. "Well, if this 'delivery girl' hadn't known any better, you would be in an interesting predicament, now wouldn't you?"
He glared back.
I sighed. I didn't want to deal with macho man and his hurt ego, not right now. I just wanted a nice, iced mocha, and maybe a few pain killers. I turned and walked out of the doorway to the front of the house. I needed a smoke.

"It's hot." I looked over at Greg, my cousin, who was visiting from Oregon, and scoffed.
"It's...MAYBE 80 degrees little man."
"It's disgustingly hot." He pulled down his Sahara hat sulkily.
"You get used to it. So, what's on the agenda for the day?"
"Deliveries." The way he said it made me shiver, as though the air had frozen suddenly.
"What....exactly....are these deliveries, anyways?" I asked hesitantly, because I wasn't sure I was allowed to know.
"Oh, you know....stuff they wont tell us about. But, hey, if the government wants us to know, they'll tell us."
"That's depressing...and scary."
" You get used to it."
We drove on in the Jeep, the highway giving off heat waves, making it look like an ocean of asphalt. I didn't mind the heat, in fact, I hated the cold more than anything. Greg, on the other hand, had huge issues with the lack of humidity, and the overwhelming warmth. His pale skin had turned hot pink after only a few hours in the sun.

Greg had come down to Arizona, where I lived, because he had a bad run-in with some of the "bad guys" in Oregon. Greg worked for an organization within the government known as DOJO, or Department of Judicial Operations. Apparantly, not all the rich guys "got away." Sometimes the government would get wind, and send their own punishment. Whatever that was, remained a mystery. Most of the deliveries we made were to stake out vans. I had no clue so many people in Arizona interested the government, or DOJO.
"Turn left at the stop sign," Greg hollered over the wind, breaking me from my troubled thoughts. I blinked rapidly, and slowed down to turn.
"Hard at work in the noggin department," Greg said. It was his fathers favorite saying when he wanted to know what was on your mind, and it had grown on Greg quite a bit. It still annoyed the crap out of me.
"Just recapping what's happened these last few weeks."
He nodded, and watched me for a few moments.
"You know Tori, I think you'd be a perfect candidate for the DOJO team."
I shook my head, laughing.
"No way, man. For one, I would have to give up my personal life. Two, I'd have to go to boot camp. I'd probably piss off the drill sarge. And three, I don't work for companies that wont tell me why I'm doing what I'm doing. It seems too fishy for me."
He nodded his head, laughing.
"Right, right. I forgot, you don't like getting yelled at by men. Hey, uh, turn right on Seaweed, left on Coral." As I maneuvered the suburbs, we fell into a peaceful silence.
I broke it first.
"It's not that I can't handle getting yelled at by men. It's just that they think they have to insult me to get my respect. I'd respect them if they did all the drills with me. I don't want to hear about the macho run they did in blah blah point blah seconds. Put their feet where their mouth are."
"They'd kick you in the face whenever you tried to kiss them. Which you would."
I glared at him. "Hardly."
"Stop next to that blue house."
I pulled up to the curb and looked around.
"Is this the drop off area?"
"Kinda. That's the house they're doing surveillance on. We're gonna cross the street and go to the house over there, and drop off supplies."
"How do you know what's in there?"
He looked at me. "Well, if we're constantly going to houses and vans, I can only deduce that it'd be canned goods or more surveillance equipment."
I nodded. "It beats the hell out of nuclear bombs."
"Uh, yeah."
We climbed out of the Jeep and grabbed the bags of "groceries," and a 6 pack of beer, and walked across the street.
"What's the beer for?"
"It makes us look more normal. Everyone in this house looks young, acts young, and mostly is young. It gives off the appearance of a room mate situation, or a frat house."
"Smooth."
"It was my idea."
We knocked on the door, and then let ourselves in.
"Hello," Greg called, dropping the groceries on the couch. No one was in the living room. The strange thing was, this house looked....homey. Nice, floral patterned couches and chairs were tastefully positioned around the room. A large plasma television was mounted on the wall. Tasteful paintings of dogs, country living, and several family photos lined the walls.
"Are there any females in DOJO?"
After a moment I looked around and noticed Greg wasn't in the room.
I stepped towards the hallway when I heard voices.
At first, they were so faint, I couldn't understand. But then whoever the guy was, shouted.
"I said DON"T MOVE."
I heard pacng and ducked into the bathroom. A bedroom door opened, and I heard heavy breathing, and then the door closed again.
I edged to the doorway, checking to make sure I had my gun at the sole of my back, tucked into my jeans. I also grabbed my phone and dialed the combination Greg had given me when I first started driving him around.
"In case anything happens, dial this number, listen to make sure it picks up and then leave it in a drawer, or hidden behind a rock or something."
I opened a medicine cabinet, and pushed it in,, closing it quietly, and then moved towards the closed door. The voices grew louder.
"How long have you been watching the boss? HOW LONG?"
No answer.
"He ain't stupid, you know. He knew the moment you moved in that you were spies. Who are you working for, huh? WHO? Tell me, or I blow this guys head clear off. I'll do it."
A heard someone speak in a low, calming voice.
Right then I took my chance and braced my self against the wall, and then did a mid-level kick to the door, my gun in hand.
The door swung open and I stepped in, gun level. I didn't look at anyone else. Just at the two men with guns.
"Put your guns down or I will shoot."
One of the guys, who, by the way, was uglier than sin, sneered. His teeth were black or missing. I gagged mentally.
"Now, who's this delicate little flower? Is she one of yours?"
The man on his knees shook his head violently. I looked a little closer, and saw it was Greg. He had a bloody lip, and his cheek was bright red, and beginning to swell.
Ugly Man's partner wasn't doing well for himself either. He sat on a chair, breathing heavily, blood blooming slowly across his shirt.
I had to end this fast.
"Step down, or I shoot," I said.
"Over my hot body." He grinned, and kicked Greg in the chest, causing him to grimace and bend over in pain.
At that moment, as he pulled back from his kick, I reacted. I fired two shots, one hitting him in the shoulder, the other in his thigh, just shy of his groin area. He dropped his gun, and gave out a yell or anger and pain.
"You stupid girl," he growled. "You may as well forget me letting you pleasure me before I kill you. I'll just do it now."

You ever wake up in the morning angry? Just....angry. Maybe your mad that you had to be woken up, or angry at the person next to you....or just tired.

Steven is like that. He wakes up with a vengeance, it seems. And though I have been patient for a long time, NO MORE!
The next time the man snips at me when I try to help him get ready for an interview, is gonna be the last time he'll ever see his pinky toe again!

*bwahahahaha* And I know that it's harder for some than others to get up, or even to be congenial about it. But when we're running late, I've got to take a shower, and Steve's ignoring the crying baby that jolted me up in the first place, I tend to get impatient.
I'll get up, snuggle my son close until his whimpers die down to something akin to cooing, and then go back and try to wake Steven up some more.

Unfortunately, Steven gets pissed off at me for waking him. I'd tell him to use an alarm clock, but the one that littlerally gives tidal waves a whole new meaning next to his head doesn't even penetrate his thoughts. Thus, if I want to get to work on time, I have to deal with him ripping me up on side and down the other. My morning is ruined, I lose my appetite, I grow hostile and resentful, and it reminds me a little more of how unhappy I've truly become.
We've tried different methods. The truth is, we've both just woken up. We haven't smoked, no caffeine in our system, notta.
So we're irritable. And I'll lure him to the kitchen with the promise of coffee and a nice Marlboro, but he just growls at me now. It used to work, but now he's being stubborn and pig-headed.

I half just want to squirt him with a water bottle until he gets up, but I don't think that would bode well for me, lol.

He said something hurtful this morning. Even he was stricken after he said it. He was quiet, and he looked just as hurt.

But not nearly as much as he hurt me....it still echoes in my head like a lingering nightmare.....I wonder if what he said was true....and then I realise....for the first time in a while....I wouldn't mind dying. Maybe he'd finally be happy.
Then I slap myself and eat some lasagna.

Lasagna. *drool*

Hi guys! I'm not gone, just really busy...and fairly drunk right now. I'm a tard.