Suspicious Minds

By Neptune X Gold

Naturally, you took it like a white girl.

Pasha Wang was both excited and apprehensive as she sat in front of the mirror, admiring her smooth Chinese features. She had a gorgeous face and coupled with a little make-up, she could look like a delicate and bewitching Oriental sex goddess or a hungry and slutty Asian tigress. Her slim, 5’5, light-gold body was currently clothed in just a white tank top with spaghetti straps, tight denim hot pants and no underwear. Her silky black hair stopped just past her shoulders. Pasha was mostly excited and slightly apprehensive about her scheduled fight in an hour's time. The fight was against a woman named Fay, who was a major nemisis for Pasha. They were natural enemies because they both loved to fight very violently, and each thought they were more attractive and worthy than the other. Fay was a tall blonde with a strong frame to match it. She had large breasts and big lips and looked like a chemically enhanced barbie doll. Pasha was especially irritated by Fay’s voice, which was loud and grating, like nails on a blackboard or some sort of cartoon character mouse. The other thing was her facial expression; she possessed a nose that was permanently wrinkled because of her snobby and bitchy personality.
As Pasha casually ran her fingers through her hair, her apprehension grew larger than her excitement. This was because her thoughts had turned to her twin sister, Harlie. Today, Harlie was coming to support Pasha in her fight. It would be the first time the sisters had seen each other in approximately three months due to a cold feud between them. In fact, for the past couple of years, their relationship hadn’t been very good.
It wasn’t always like this. Growing up, they had been competitive, trying to outdo each other in boys, clothing, school and parents’ affection, but also very close. This supportive yet competitive relationship extended to their very busy sex and catfighting lives. They were both hot babes, who weren’t afraid of getting down, dirty and extreme in anything they attempted.
But their relationship had gone downhill ever since Pasha had started getting serious with Terrence. It had gotten even worse when Pasha married him less than a year ago. The sisters still went shopping, but less often. They still flirted with guys in bars, but Pasha crossed the line at going further. She went home early because she wanted to spend time with her husband. Over time, Harlie had slowly become more obnoxious and bad-tempered towards Pasha. It was clear that she wanted them both to live in the past, while Pasha wanted to move forwards into the future. Pasha had tried to talk to Harlie about her feelings, but they always just ended up arguing.
A few months ago, Harlie had accused Pasha of sleeping with the latest guy she was dating, Larry, who, in fact, Pasha thought was plain sleazy (in a bad way). What annoyed Pasha more than anything was that Harlie had made the accusation right in front of Terrence. In her own house. And then she had stormed out of the house and purposefully damaged the gate as she drove off. Now the incident didn’t effect Pasha’s marriage, since Terrence knew Pasha was flirtatious but trustworthy. However, Pasha was still furious with Harlie.
Snapping back to the present, Pasha realised that she had better get a move on to prepare for her big fight. She always had a long shower before a fight to relax and focus herself. Harlie, on the other hand, argued that doing this made your body more sensitive and was, therefore, a disadvantage.
In the bathroom, Pasha stripped off her clothes and stepped under the cascading water. As she began lazily soaping her arms, she allowed her mind to wander back to her past fights with Fay. One of her favourite memories was sitting astride Fay and sinking her nails into her big, sweaty tits and stiff nipples as hard as she could. She remembered the thrill of having so much tit flesh to dig into. She remembered Fay’s moans and screams in her cartoon character voice. She clearly saw Fay’s face creased in agony, and her hot and sweaty stomach rubbing against Pasha's bare crotch. Then other memories. Punching. Biting. Pulling hair. Slapping. Kicking. Taunting. Leaving long, red trails down Fay’s pale white back. Choking her …
Suddenly Pasha snapped out of her daydream. Wet hair stuck to her cheeks, water pounded against her back, and steam rose and billowed around her. She had been rolling her long, hard nipples between her fingertips as her crotch pulsed and tingled. Her soapy fingers had worked up quite a lather.
More in the mood for a good fight now, she stepped out of the shower and dried her firm body, feeling like a sexy and lethal female assassin. Her eyes glittered in anticipation of destroying her tall, dumb blonde rival after a long period of non-fighting and upsetting family worries. Wrapping her white towel around herself, she stepped out of the bathroom and started walking to her room. Suddenly she stopped, sensing something was wrong. Her body and mind became more alert to her surroundings. She froze momentarily, but then a voice rang out. “Pash?” She sighed, and her legs carried her towards the sound, as her mind adjusted to seeing her estranged sibling.
Harlie was sitting on the couch in Pasha’s lounge room, reading a magazine. After rebuffing Pasha’s attempts to talk to her during their silent feud, Harlie had finally called, and they had arranged for her to come to Pasha’s big fight. Today, Harlie wore boots, a black mini-skirt and a red boob tube. Her large diamond-shaped earrings swayed slightly. Her body, of course, was almost identical to Pasha's. For a moment, Pasha thought she saw a hard look in her sister’s eyes, but before she knew it, Harlie was looking at her with a friendly expression that said, ‘well?’
“Hi, Sis,” said Pasha.
Harlie responded by standing up and walking confidently towards Pasha, stopping and kissing both of her cheeks.
“You look nice,” said Harlie. She looked at Pasha’s wet hair then reached up and ran some through her fingers, as if examining its quality.
“So do you,” replied Pasha evenly. Harlie’s face was carefully painted with a generous amount of make-up. Her lips were blood red as were her long fingernails. It was definitely Harlie’s ‘hunting’ look, and Pasha felt a little vulnerable in just her damp towel. She tried to shake the feeling off.
“Of course I do,” Harlie said with her usual humour. “And how’s Terrence?”
At this mention of her husband, Pasha wondered if her sister was finally about to apologise for the last time they saw each other, but no apology came. “Better than anything you could snare,” she said.
Something seemed to flash over her sister’s carefully made-up features for a split second before it disappeared. “Well, I think we both know that’s not true, honey,” she said. “Now why don’t you get that fine ass of yours into bitch attire” - she gave Pasha’s ass a slap that was harder than necessary - “and I’ll see you in a bit.”
Pasha gave a small smile, nodded, and turned around to walk towards her bedroom, her left ass cheek feeling the warmth left by Harlie’s hand. The feeling of anti-climax settled over her. Her sister had seemed friendly enough. As Pasha went into her bedroom, leaving the door half open, she thought that she herself could have been a little friendlier, but then she reminded herself that she still hadn’t received an apology. She cursed the strong egos that both she and her sister shared. Stubborn bitches.

Soon they were silently driving in Pasha’s car. The similarity between the sisters was striking now that Pasha had her own face and hair carefully done. Until now, Pasha had been analysing her and her sister’s conversation and trying to interpret her quietness. But now she gave an impatient sigh and shook her head. Enough was enough! She had been thinking about her sister repeatedly for these past few months, and she was sick of it. She would deal with Harlie later, but right now she had to mentally prepare herself for her fight. A cocky, blonde tramp, who deserved a decisive pounding, was waiting for her less than fifteen minutes away. It was as if Christmas had come early! Everything else could just fucking wait.
Pasha closed her eyes. Her mind clicked into war mode, and all of her nervous energy started to convert itself into fighting energy. She felt her stomach harden as she stopped thinking and started needing. Needing to fight Fay. To slap her across her stupid face. To yank her blonde hair out by the roots. To hold her down and mock her. To kick her slut ass up and down the stairs of her own house, until she cried from the pain. Pasha’s various body parts began to yearn at the thought of the contact they would soon be making with Fay’s creamy skin. She was going to shove that whore’s arms up her own ass. ‘You’re all that and you know it,’ she repeated over and over in her mind.
Eventually, they were close to Fay’s house and Pasha's fists were itching at the thought of their new ‘punching bag.’ However, Pasha’s enthusiasm was dampened as they parked outside Fay’s house. “What the hell?” she said.
The sprinkler system was on on the front lawn. The afternoon sun made the water glisten as the turning and chugging jets erupted forcefully into the air and rained down onto the grass. It obscured Fay’s cream coloured house and the red door in the centre of it.
Pasha was dressed in a nice, short and tight red dress. She and Fay always fought naked, as real women do, but they had a silent agreement to look their best upon greeting each other.
“What does that cheap bitch think she’s playing at? Does she think I’m going to let her get away with this?” fumed Pasha.
Harlie didn't seem as surprised as Pasha did. “Well, what’s the worse you can do to her?” she answered back evenly. “Hit her harder?”
Pasha laughed and then recovered. “Touché,” she said.
Harlie, smiled but didn't laugh. She seemed knowing and calm. A walking advertisement for Zen. “I’m sure you're gonna do fine,” she said. Then she unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the car, shutting the door behind her.
Pasha grabbed her handbag and then realised Harlie had left her bag behind. It was not her usual one. Just a large brown cloth bag. She grabbed that too and then stopped as she noticed something. Gold. Something gold was sticking out from under a magazine, which lay facing up in the bag. She reached down and pulled out a gold necklace with a gold heart on it. There was no doubt about it. This was her own necklace. Terrence had given it to her exactly six months after they had started dating. She remembered the long, romantic candle-lit dinner, followed by hours of dancing as they stared deeply into each others eyes, and then a threesome with a hooker hired especially for the occasion. Terrence had given her the necklace during dinner. And now Harlie had stolen it.
The air in the car felt a lot warmer. Pasha’s mind and body were still focused but now for a different reason. A different person. She put the gold necklace inside her own bag and then opened the car door. She stepped out, feeling fresh air meet her warm cheeks. With a start, she found that Harlie was standing right in front of her. The two sisters surveyed each other from under curled eyelashes. Harlie reached behind Pasha and pushed the car door shut with a slam. Then she slowly lifted one hand and locked the car with the press of a button.
The twins didn’t say a word, but electricity radiated from their eyes and bodies. The street seemed still and quiet except for the rhythmic chugging of water coming from Fay’s front lawn.
“Why?” said Pasha.
Harlie simply looked at her. Dislike and bitter satisfaction were now etched in her face.
“You know why,” she answered.
Pasha turned to face her sister front on. “Explain it to me,” she said quietly.
Harlie continued to glare at her. “Because all I wanted was an apology,” she said.
Pasha felt the blood rushing to her face. She had no idea where this was going, but thought that her sister had better get to the point, and fast. “Why would I need to apologise to you?” she asked softly but menacingly.
Harlie's face hardened, and she leaned towards her sister. When she spoke, she spoke slowly, weighing every word. “Why are you making me spell this out for you, slut? You fucked my boyfriend. And either you apologise now and apologise well, or I’m going to kick your fat ass.”
Disbelief swept across Pasha’s face. She abandoned her soft and deadly voice to confront her sister. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she spluttered loudly. “You’re still - all this time … you still think that I slept with your boyfriend? I mean, apologise? To you?! You’re supposed to apologise to me! I told you before that I’ve never -”
“LIAR!” Harlie screamed without warning, completely startling Pasha and making her step backwards. Harlie’s eyes flamed with fury. “You are a fucking liar! You know you did it! You slept with him and then you denied you did it! And then you didn’t speak to me or apologise, and now you think everything is back to normal? I’m so sick of you! I’ve been putting up with your crap ever since you met that limp-dicked prick you call a husband!” Harlie was so angry that spit was flying from her mouth. She paused for a breath. “And now you want to pretend you’re some loyal little Miss Perfect wife and treat me like trash while you fuck my boyfriend? You’re a lying, unbearable, obnoxious fucking whore!”
All through this tirade, Pasha had been objecting in her mind. Objecting to every false accusation, insult and fleck of spit that had hit her face. Objecting to the fact that Harlie was ruining the fight that she had spent so long waiting for. She didn’t know where to begin in her response. She tried to force herself to stay calm, so things wouldn’t get out of hand. She just had to try to get Harlie to understand how her ridiculous beliefs simply stemmed from her feelings of rejection and denial. All she had to do was stay calm.
Unfortunately, the animal in Pasha disagreed with this approach.
Pasha stepped forward and laid a full-force, right hand slap on Harlie’s face.
Harlie’s head snapped to the side, and her sunglasses flew off.
Pasha realised what she had done.
However, Harlie didn’t look surprised or angry. On the contrary, when she slowly turned her face back, it was set in a mask of dark triumph. Pasha briefly saw this face before her own head jerked to the side, as Harlie delivered a return slap harder than Pasha’s.
Pasha saw red. She took her right arm and backhanded her sister across the face as hard as she could. Harlie gasped and stumbled a few paces, holding her cheek. Then she faked a slap with her left but instead, drove her right fist upwards into Pasha’s stomach. Pasha doubled over in pain, and then Harlie grabbed her by the arm, started running and suddenly flung her towards Fay’s wooden, white picket gate with all her might. Pasha hit it with her shoulder, and it broke off its hinges, as she crashed through it and landed on the wet grass on the other side.
She lay still on her stomach, breathing hard. She shook her swimming head and realised where she was. She was lying on wet grass in a good dress. A jet of water suddenly hit her in the face and moved on. Gritting her teeth, Pasha ignored the pain in her stomach and stood up, but Harlie was upon her and pushed her hard so that she stumbled and fell flat on her ass, soaking it through her dress. Pasha tried to get up again, but the same thing happened.
They were both closer to the centre of the yard now, and different water jets hit them and moved around them from different directions. Pasha realised that she and Harlie had not properly fought each other since they were young. A couple of times they had almost come to blows but not much had happened. Perhaps they had spent too long watching each other destroy opponents to feel like scrapping with each other. It seemed amazing to her that two bitches with attitudes as bad as theirs could go so long without getting down to it. Until now.
Now was past the point of negotiation. Pasha had spent the last few years trying to be considerate of her sister, but her patience had finally worn out. She had done nothing except find true happiness, and her sister was not willing to accept it. Well she was going to accept it now. Pasha was going to teach her sister a lesson in the language that both of them understood very clearly. They were a perfect match in skill, cruelty, experience, endurance, eagerness, and physical measurements. They also knew each others strengths and weaknesses from years of spectatorship. The one thing Pasha remembered above all else is that when her sister got extremely mad, she got extremely vicious but also extremely careless. It was a risk that Pasha decided she was willing to take. She was not going to lose this fight even if she had to go to hell and back.
“What’s the matter, Pash? Has your fat ass sunken too far into the wet grass?”
Harlie was waiting for her with her nails extended and her breathing deeper from all her yelling. She had taken off her boots. Her mini-skirt and boob tube were both soaked and hugged her firm body.
Pasha got off the ground and stood up. She kicked off the shoe that hadn’t come off yet. The two sisters, equally wet, faced each other with violent glares.
“You think I’m gonna let you get away with that, slut?” said Pasha.
“Well bring it on then, bitch. Or are you scared?” yelled Harlie, who was much more outwardly agitated.
“Scared of you? Why would I be scared of someone like you?”
“Hmmm. Maybe because I'm going to rip off your tits and throw them over that fence over there. You bit off more than you could chew, when you tried to fuck with me, whore.”
“I told you I never touched your precious little boyfriend, you fucking idiot. You’re just a paranoid and insecure little psychotic.”
“Keep lying to me, bitch, it’s only making it worse for you.”
“Well why don’t you stop talking and come and make it worse for me?”
“Why don’t you, you prissy little skank?”
Pasha instantly strode across the wet grass towards her sister. She had butterflies in her stomach, and her body was anxious with anticipation. Her sister waited for her, her hands by her side but flexed for action.
Pasha stopped when she reached Harlie. Water ran down their legs, and their clothes pressed against them. While getting wet and dirty had upset Pasha after she had crashed through the gate, she now saw that this was the perfect setting. It was almost like a story from a legend or myth. Two goddesses from ancient times meeting for an epic showdown in a mystical battleground of water. Goddesses that could not have been more evenly matched.
The twin sisters stared each other down.
“Last chance for you to apologise to me, cunt,” said Pasha.
Harlie’s jaw tightened, and she took a step towards her sister with her hands on her hips.
“Fuck you,” she said clearly and throatily.
There was a long pause, as they both silently dared each other to do something.
Pasha pushed her sister’s shoulder with one hand. Her sister flinched at the sudden movement, and Pasha smirked.
Harlie looked a little madder and shoved her sister more roughly.
Pasha moved backwards from the push and then stepped forwards again, moving up close to her sister, so their bodies were almost touching.
Pasha shoved her sister’s chest with both hands, feeling Harlie’s wet-clothed tits squash beneath her fingers.
Harlie didn’t push her back, but reached up slowly with her right hand and clasped some of Pasha’s hair between her fingers. Just as she had at Pasha’s house, she ran the hair slowly between her fingers as if examining its quality, only this time her eyes were focused on Pasha's. A shiver ran through Pasha that hadn’t occurred during her sister’s recent, more forceful contact. Then without warning, her sister shoved her by her shoulders, making her step back.
Now acting on instinct, Pasha stepped forward, reached up, and used her thumb and forefinger nails to pinch her sister hard on the arm. Harlie gave an involuntary yelp, which Pasha greeted with a mocking look. However, she had to suppress her own yelp, as Harlie reached up and pinched Pasha’s neck. In return, Pasha pinched just to the left of her sister’s exposed belly button, hoping to puncture her skin. Harlie jerked and put a pinch grip around her sister’s windpipe, but didn't press down. Quickly, Pasha shoved her hand under her sister’s miniskirt and between her legs, using all her fingers to put a threatening claw grip right around her sister’s uncovered, shaved, slippery pussy.
All around them, water continued to shoot in the air and drench the two bitches in its path. The chugging drone rushed into their ears, and the water soaked into their clothes and moistened their bodies. Pasha felt the uncomfortable pressure on her windpipe and pressed her nails slightly harder against her sister’s damp, exposed womanhood.
Harlie spoke first. “So you wanna keep playing these little pinching games or get down to it, slut?”
“Only if you think you can't handle it, whore,” replied Pasha, feeling her sister’s fingernails even more when she spoke.
Harlie tried for a smirk, but her face was tight. “Well obviously you can handle it,” she said, and pressed her nails tighter into Pasha’s windpipe.
Pasha resisted the small urge to cough and responded by digging her claws further into her sister’s warm crotch, making her squirm a little. “Awww, what's the matter, your saggy pussy can’t take the pressure?”
Their faces were so close now, they could taste each others breath.
“Don’t think I’m going to go easy on you just ‘cause you’re my sister,” Harlie said savagely.
“Slut, I'm going to fuck you up so badly that it’ll hurt when you put your make up on,” Pasha said loudly.
“Oh you think so, bitch?” spat Harlie, louder still, “your gonna have to take your false teeth out before you suck your husband off from now on.”
A wave of electricity surged through Pasha. She stepped up so that their wet, clothed breasts were brushing each other.
Pasha looked at Harlie and then did what she had wanted to do for a long time. She spat right in her sister’s face.
Harlie recoiled and then the dam burst. Harlie snarled and reached up with both hands to grab her sister’s hair, but Pasha already had her sister’s pussy in the palm of her hand and sunk her nails into it with a vice-like grip. Harlie’s screech was like an alarm bell in her sister’s ear. One hand automatically flew to her Pasha’s wrist while the other frantically slapped at her head. However, Pasha focused all her energy on burying her nails into her sister’s meaty pussy. Harlie’s face was twisted with agony and in desperation, she swung a fist that caught Pasha on the chin, but that didn’t make her let go.
“Aaagh - ow - ooh,” gasped Harlie in anguish, as she fell to her knees. Pasha released her grip and instantly backhanded her sister right across the face, so that she flew sideways and landed face first in the wet grass. Adrenaline was surging through Pasha as she followed her, determined not to screw up her strong start. She stood in front of her sister, bought her leg up and slammed her right foot down onto the back of her sister’s head just as she was trying to rise. Harlie flattened against the ground again, and her face was forced harder and harder into the dirt, as Pasha’s foot bore down on her head. Harlie’s limbs flailed about, and she managed to scratch down Pasha’s slippery leg and then pinch her hard on the back of the knee causing Pasha to gasp and tears to appear in her eyes. She bent over and scratched violently along the length of her sister’s arm causing it to retract. She lifted her foot up and bought it down on the back of her sister’s head a few more times. Reaching down, Pasha grabbed two full handfuls of Harlie’s wet, black hair and began to pull hard. With a firm, controlling grip, Pasha began moving backwards, dragging her sister face down across the ground. She heard muffled shrieks and curses, as Harlie half-slid and half-bumped across the soaked ground. “What now huh, bitch? What now?” said Pasha repeatedly, as she pulled her sister around as fast as she could. They moved all over the yard, leaving trails of disturbed grass and mud wherever they went. Harlie’s boob tube ended up around her mid-section, dirty and twisted. Pasha felt a twinge of excitement as she imagined her sister’s tits being mercilessly flattened and dragged across the wet grass. Harlie struggled to fight back or rise, but she was being dragged too fast, and her feet couldn’t get a firm grip on the wet ground. All she could do was try and keep her face off the ground and keep up with Pasha as best she could. Pasha suddenly stopped; her sister’s face was lying next to a sprinkler. Harlie desperately and shakily rose to her hands and knees, but Pasha quickly sat astride her back with a thud, flattening her sister against the ground again. She smiled at the sight of strands of Harlie’s yanked out wet hair sticking to her hands and arms. She grabbed her sister’s hair with one hand and yanked her head up.
“Do you give up, Harl?” she asked.
Harlie was slightly dazed and had grass in her mouth, but she shook her head. “Fuck you!”
Smiling at her creativity, Pasha grabbed her sister’s hair tightly with both hands and pushed her head down so that her mouth covered the sprinkler. Harlie’s whole body jerked as she struggled to get away. Her eyes widened, and her face went red as water gushed into it and out the sides of her mouth. After about ten seconds, Pasha yanked her up by the hair again, and Harlie gasped, coughed and choked out water.
“How bout now, sis’?” asked Pasha.
Harlie coughed some more, but as soon as she could, she said in a defiant yet weaker voice, “fuck you, slut.”
Pasha pulled her sister’s hair tighter, making her neck arch more. Harlie moaned. Pasha put her mouth next to her sister’s ear. “You should be used to this sis’. Swallowing, if you know what I mean. Isn’t it how you get people to like you?”
“Isn’t it why Terrence married you?” her sister answered back, her voice strained from her head being pulled back.
Pasha laughed freely and shook her head. Then she tried to jam Harlie’s head back onto the sprinkler, but she resisted, forcing her face away from the forceful spray. Her neck muscles were taunt with the effort. “Oh, so you want to play, huh?” asked Pasha, grinning. She moved a bit further up Harlie’s body and began forcing her head again, although she was just toying with her. She loved the feeling of power coursing through her body as Harlie tried to resist her. Pasha’s pussy throbbed, and she let out a soft moan of pleasure. Then with a sudden burst of strength, she rammed her sister’s mouth over the sprinkler and held her firmly in place with both hands gripping her hair. Pasha closed her eyes and tilted her head back, enjoying the feeling of domination. Her stomach was tight, and her sister’s back was hot and wet. Harlie moved around making gagging sounds, but her head was held firmly over the water. She desperately tried to escape but to no avail. Her face went a brighter shade of red as water gushed into her mouth faster than it streamed out. In the corner of her eyes, Pasha could see Harlie’s arms twitching and jerking as she used all her energy to try to cope with the hard water assault on her throat. Finally, Pasha yanked her sister’s head off the sprinkler, which promptly went back to exploding upwards. Her sister coughed, spluttered and heaved, and her whole body shook as she sucked in air. Pasha could feel the vibrations in her arms, as they pulled back on Harlie’s hair. There was mud around her lips, and a glazed look in her eyes.
“Give up?” Pasha asked simply, knowing the likely answer. She waited patiently as Harlie tried to regain control over her breathing.
“I swear, Pasha … I’m going to (cough) tear you to fucking (cough) pieces (cough cough) you’re de - (cough) dead, bitch …”
Pasha ignored her. “What will they say, Harl? Your sister kicked your ass without even punching you? Or kicking you? In such a short amount of time?”
“Let me (cough) up then, c - coward.”
Pasha pulled her Harlie’s head back even more. She let out an involuntary whimper. “What will you tell them, Harl? That I was bigger, or stronger, or younger? Looks like you don’t have much when it comes to skill alone, huh?”
Harlie started to twist in anger, but the stretching of her violated throat was too much, and she just coughed badly and sucked in air again. Pasha pulled even harder, relishing the immense strain she felt through her sister’s hair. Her sister wheezed and tried to get her breathing under control.
“And what will Larry say when he hears about this? You think he’ll pity you? Feel sorry for you? Hell, he might even laugh at you. Wouldn’t that be mean? His tough gal reduced to a snivelling little bitch. He might even start pretending that you’re me when he’s having sex with you. Most men like the feel of sliding into a winner rather than a loser.”
Pasha wished she could have properly seen her sister’s face as her boyfriend was mentioned. Harlie’s whole body seemed to vibrate with fury. She let out a moan of rage and longing. She coughed a few more times and then started to rasp as loudly as she could, “I swear to (cough cough) God, when I -”
“What? I couldn’t hear that,” said Pasha, although she really could.
“(cough) I said, I’m going to (gag) -”
“Speak up, bitch,” said Pasha, pulling on Harlie’s hair with cruel force.
Impotent rage radiated from Harlie’s body. “You (gag choke) you (cough) fu-”
Pasha went from firmly pulling on her sister’s head to slamming it forward around the sprinkler. She pressed both her palms down onto the back of Harlie's head as hard as she could, so that her sister’s lips ground into the wet mud, and water rammed straight into the back of her throat. A small pool of muddy water had collected around Harlie's face, as her mouth filled to capacity again. Pasha moved further up her sister’s body so that she was sitting on her neck, and Harlie’s hair was a dark, wet mop spreading out from under her dress. Pasha pushed down so hard, it was as if she was trying to make her sister’s lips airtight against the ground, and her mouth deep-throat the sprinkler. Water streamed out of Harlie’s mouth and nose, and her head trembled with the strain. Her eyes and cheeks were bulging, and she went bright red from the lack of oxygen. Pasha held her there without mercy. Harlie had bought all of this on herself, and she could have begged for mercy if she wished, but she had refused. Well, her ego wasn’t going to help her today.
Harlie’s body jerked and twisted involuntarily. She retched and shook, and tears began streaming down her face. By now, her face looked quite submerged in grass and muddy water. Pasha loved the feeling of control that she had right now. Moments like these were the reason she was a catfighter. Her pussy tingled with satisfaction as she forced the catfight out of Harlie.
Finally, when Pasha felt her sister weakening, she pulled Harlie’s head up by her hair. Her sister’s strength was sapped, but she couldn't help violently choking, coughing, heaving and thrashing back and forth. Muddy water and spit drooled out of her mouth and onto the grass. Her wet hair stuck to her face. Tears were streaming freely from her red eyes. She was totally helpless and she knew it.
Pasha got up so that she was standing astride her sister’s back, knowing that Harlie was too weak to do anything.
“Well if that isn’t Chinese water torture, then I don’t know what is,” she commented loudly. “Naturally, you took it like a white girl,” she added.
But Harlie couldn’t respond. She just lay on her stomach, moving around slowly like a dying eel. Her coughs grew less frequent and mingled with some sobs.
Pasha roughly rolled her sister onto her back with one foot. Harlie’s mini-skirt had ridden up, exposing her pouting pussy to the elements. Her red boob tube was a wet, dirt and grass stained strip beneath her breasts. Her whole body also had dirt and grass clinging to it. Pasha slowly stripped her sister of all her clothing. Just like Pasha, Harlie had pointy, nice-sized tits.
Pasha sat on Harlie’s stomach with a thud. Her sister fought back with limited strength, but Pasha had trapped both her arms under her legs.
Pasha was fully into this now. She had this bitch in her sights. She wanted to humiliate, anger and beat her sister more than anything in the world. She wanted to make this an experience she would never forget.
The sisters stared at each other. Pasha, pleased and mocking; Harlie, still and resentful. They were both soaked to the bone by now, but Harlie definitely looked the worse for wear. Pasha reached forward and ran Harlie’s hair through her fingers just as Harlie had twice done to her, earlier. Harlie didn’t blink. Pasha shook her head, sighed, and scratched an itch on her nose. Then she began to speak.
“Ok, I’ve got a confession to make, Harl … it’s true. I did sleep with Larry.”
Harlie looked at her.
“That’s right, cunt,” said Pasha with vindictive pleasure, as her mind scrambled to remember scraps of information that her sister had previously told her. “You know that foot fetish thing he has is so cute. Always sucking and kissing my toes so lovingly. Do you ever get a taste of my feet when you make out with him? Also, I love looking at that tattoo of his when he’s going down on me. Our favourite position is doggie. I just love feeling him so deep inside me. Him doing all the work, of course. You know how I was yanking your hair before? That’s how hard he does it to me. Sometimes he even pulls a few out when he comes inside me. Maybe you should look for them on your bed after I let you go home. You’ll know they’re mine because they don’t have split ends.”
As Pasha was saying this, her sister’s face seemed to darken, but she didn’t say anything. Her unfathomable eyes looked unblinkingly into Pasha’s. It frightened Pasha a little. Then Harlie closed her eyes and twisted her head away, trying to block everything out. Maybe she was too humiliated, or maybe she was just trying to control her rage. Or maybe she was imagining what she would do to Pasha when she next got the chance. A stream of water fell across Harlie’s face and then slid off like water off a duck’s back.
Pasha grabbed Harlie’s head, made it face her, and then forced her eyelids up with her thumbs so that she had to look directly into Pasha’s face.
“He says I can suck deeper than you can. He also said that I’m tighter than you are. I said, I wasn’t surprised. How could any man ever get off on a used up piece of trash like you? You have to learn that you’re the one who’s turned into an obnoxious and spoiled brat. And I’m about to bring you down to size.”
And with that, she spat a full mouth of spit right into her sister’s face. Harlie’s only reaction was shutting her left eye, as the spit slowly slid across the closed lid and down towards her hair.
Letting go of her sister’s head, Pasha grabbed Harlie’s hair with her left hand and raised her right hand ready to slap her. “Say, ‘when,’ honey,” she said, and then began repeatedly slapping her sister across the face, working up a nice rhythm. Pasha relished the sound and feel of flesh on flesh. After each round of three or four slaps, she slightly increased the force of the strikes. At first her sister just lay there and took it, refusing to make a sound. Her head simply turned back and forth, over and over again. Then unexpectedly taken with inspiration, Pasha started to make moaning noises, and said things like “oh yeah, Larry,” and “more, Larry,” which mixed deliciously with the loud, wet smacking sounds. Harlie managed to stay silent, but her now closed-eyes expression grew as dark as a thunderstorm. Pasha laughed loudly and kept it up. She didn’t want to miss a second of watching her sister’s face as she endured her physical and psychological torment. Her sister’s silence was merely a challenge that Pasha had all the time in the world to overcome. Growing more enthusiastic, Pasha then started to really go to town on her sister. She began to twist her body more and raise her arm higher and wider before she bought her palm crashing down against her sister’s bright red and tender left cheek with a sound so loud that it almost seemed to rise above the noise of the sprinklers. “That’s it, Larry” – SMACK! – “you’re the best, baby” – SMACK! – “fuck me harder!” – SMACK! - “slam my tight hole!” - SMACK! Pasha didn’t know how to stop. She felt as if all her stress and worries were leaking away as she wound up and walloped her sister with her open hand. Eventually her sister began to whimper and moan in pain and frustration. Pasha leaned forward slightly to better hear these sounds. The time between slaps increased as Pasha hit Harlie harder and harder. The force of the slaps had intensified to an obscene level, as if her sister were some sort of piñata that had to be cracked open. Her sister’s head seemed in danger of flying off of her shoulders. Tears leaked from Harlie’s eyes and her lips tightly pressed together from the agony.
Without breaking her rhythm, Pasha suddenly grabbed as much tit flesh as she could with both her claws and squeezed hard, eliciting a surprised wail from Harlie.
“Do you fucking give, bitch?” yelled Pasha, as her nails sank deeper into her sister’s tits. Her sister moaned with her eyes screwed shut, and her head moved from side to side. Her left cheek glowed bright crimson.
Pasha leaned closer. “I asked you if you give.”
No answer.
Pasha pulled Harlie towards her by her abused tits. She moved her face closer so they were just an inch apart. “It can all end right now, Harl. Admit I’m the better woman, you stubborn little -”
But she didn’t get to finish what she was saying. In a completely unexpected move, Harlie’s head sprang up, and her forehead crunched into Pasha’s nose! Pasha’s hands instinctively released her sister’s tits as pain swept over her face, and her eyes squeezed shut. Suddenly, she felt a sharp and unexpected pain in her pussy. As Pasha had leaned forward to yell into her sister's face, Harlie had managed to free her left hand and was now clamping onto her sister’s cunt with her nails. Pasha gasped and felt the body beneath her surge upwards and manage to escape, depositing her on her ass.
Pasha desperately tried to focus her watering eyes to see her sister’s next move. The flying water all around her did not help at all. Before she knew it, she felt a foot slam into the side of her head as if she were a football, and she flew sideways and hit the ground. Then Harlie landed on her stomach in exactly the same position Pasha had had her trapped in moments before. Her legs were trapped under Harlie’s legs. She looked up at her sister's face framed by flecks of flying water and the sky. Harlie looked as mad and grimly determined as Pasha had ever seen her. She slowly reached towards Pasha’s face and hooked her forefinger and middle finger into Pasha’s nostrils and cruelly pulled her head up this way. Pasha moaned in pain as her freshly injured and throbbing nose was violated and stretched. Pasha looked into Harlie’s face, seeing her wet, bright red cheek up close. Harlie then released her fingers, and her sister slumped back to the ground.
Suddenly the sun was blocked out for Pasha as Harlie spread a piece of material – her red boob tube, Pasha guessed – over her sister’s face and head. She had seen Harlie do this before and knew what was coming. She struggled to free her arms but to no avail. Fast, painful and seemingly from nowhere punches rained down on Pasha’s face and head. They were so furious and wild that some actually missed or grazed the side of her covered face but others connected. She felt renewed pain explode in her sensitive nose as Harlie’s fists thudded against her head. Her cheeks, eyes and forehead got rapid blows and in the back of her mind, she knew her face would look like hell tomorrow. She could do nothing except take the explosions of pain in different places on her head. She felt something wet collect on her lips and knew her nose was bleeding.
Pasha just lay there, taking the punishment as her mind screamed at her to do something. It had been a while since she had been punched in the face. Many of her opponents didn’t want to explain shiners to work colleagues, family and friends. Pasha was one of these women but liked face punching and tried to make exceptions depending on the fight (like with Fay, for example). Harlie had a similar viewpoint, although she didn’t seem out of practice right now. Her fists repeatedly landed on various parts of her sister’s covered head. As her mind got rocked - literally - Pasha knew she had to do something fast otherwise she was a goner. Her arms were trapped under her sister’s legs, but she wiggled them about desperately and finally got a hold of her sister’s thigh, all while her head was being knocked around. Clamping down for dear life, she heard a cry of pain that was muffled to her, and felt one of her sister’s hands trying to pry her hand off. Feeling dizzy, she tried to surge upwards as her sister had done, but Harlie was still too much on her stomach. Feeling an explosion of desperate adrenaline, she surged up again, slightly pushing her sister backwards. The boob tube fell off her face, and her surroundings of spraying water and sunlight flashed back into view. Her head was tender and sore. Meanwhile, Harlie had managed to pry Pasha’s fingers off her leg and now grabbed Pasha’s hair with her left hand, ready to deliver an almighty punch with her right one. But as Harlie’s face glowered and her right fist bent backwards as if in slow motion, Pasha sensed a chance by instinct, and twisted her head sharply, catching her sister’s left wrist in her teeth.
Harlie shrieked, but Pasha clamped her teeth down, knowing this was her only chance. Her teeth and jaw were sore, and the copper blood taste in her mouth prevailed. A jet of water came around and showered both of them, hitting Pasha’s sensitive face. Harlie frantically slapped and scratched at Pasha, trying to make her let go, but Pasha lowered her head and pushed Harlie so that she slid off her and onto the ground. Now they were both sitting facing each other with their legs apart. They both saw what they had to do. Planting a foot in each others pussy, they each grabbed a handful of hair and started swinging at each other with their balled-up right fists. Pasha’s head swam, but she forced herself to focus. They each tried to keep each other at arms length and lowered their heads to protect themselves. Their hair was slippery, and it was hard to get a firm grip. Harlie begun swinging wild roundhouse punches at Pasha's head, and Pasha ducked forward to try and avoid them and dished out more shorter punches at Harlie's face with a 'hammering a nail' motion. She managed to catch Harlie flush on her sore cheek, and she gave a loud yelp.
"Aww, did that hurt, you weak slut? Doesn’t Larry -" began Pasha, but she was cut off as Harlie lunged forward and grabbed Pasha's dress between her cleavage, pulled her forward and gave her a swift jab to her already sore nose. Pasha groaned as pain renewed in the middle of her face and was too late to fend off Harlie's next punch aimed at her eye. Pasha fell backwards, and they let go of each others hair. Harlie quickly scrambled to her feet as Pasha tried to get her bearings.
"I'm going to kill you, you fucking whore!" shouted Harlie, her eyes wild and crazed, as she started aiming kicks at Pasha. Pasha took a few kicks before managing to hug one of her sister's legs and brutally raked her nails down one of them, leaving clear red lines. Harlie let out a scream and then kneed her sister right in the mouth. Pasha felt her lip cut and before she knew it, Harlie had grabbed her hair tightly and was dragging her across the ground just as Pasha had done to her. Pasha felt the wet ground slide against her dress and tasted the wet grass. Then through half-open eyes, she saw the sprinkler her sister was leading her towards. As soon as Harlie begun to slow down, Pasha drew her leg up, planted her foot and pushed herself up and forwards. Right in front of her face was her sister's wet, shaved pussy, glistening in the sun. She lunged out to grab it but was not balanced enough and her hand only brushed against it, making the lips jiggle in the open air. As her sister begun to react to what she was doing, she lunged again and sunk her nails into her sister's pussy for the second time during the fight and clamped down viciously. Through Harlie's pussy, Pasha felt her sister momentarily freeze from the pain. Then her legs instantly gave way, and she sank down swiftly. Pasha quickly let go and then bought her hand down in a karate chop right on her sister's clit. Harlie gave a loud gasp and squirmed and bucked uncontrollably as she rode out the pain. Pasha, sensing victory, surged forward to take advantage of the situation, but before she could do anything else, Harlie’s foot shot out and caught Pasha flush on the face, sending her sprawling. Perhaps it was intentional, but it was likely that Harlie had gotten lucky and kicked her sister while writhing in pain.
Pasha lay on the wet ground. Her nose was throbbing, and her whole face felt numb. Her breathing was ragged as her mind willed her to get up. She lay there in tense dread, expecting some sort of punishment for her inaction, but none came. Finally, forcing herself to move, she looked over at Harlie and saw her sister crawling away as fast as she could manage with a sore pussy. The instinct to follow her rose in Pasha, but she didn’t move. It was as if her body had registered that the fight was over and was already winding down. Harlie crawled on all fours, fully wet and naked, and upon reaching the fence, used it to help herself up. She couldn’t stand up perfectly straight but was slightly bent over in pain. Grabbing her boots and bag still by the fence, she limped towards her car and turned around when she reached it. Her face was red, and wet with water and tears.
“You know this isn’t over, Pash. I said I'm going to kill you, and I fucking mean it, you lying skank,” she yelled loudly. In return, Pasha managed to muster a victorious smile, wincing a little at the pain in her face, and blew her sister a kiss. Harlie turned away, unlocked her car, got inside, and about ten seconds later, the car began to move down the street and eventually disappeared from sight.
Pasha closed her eyes. Just minutes ago, she had been totally helpless as her sister had wildly punched her face. She let out a sigh. Her body was wet and sticky on the outside and hot and tired on the inside. All around her, the sprinklers continued to spray and turn. She soaked up the knowledge that she was victorious. In fact, she had dominated most of the fight. Her sister had run away because she couldn't hack it. Opening her eyes, Pasha saw a small girl, about 8 years old, in the neighbors’ yard, peering over the fence, watching her. Her eyes were wide with shock. When she saw Pasha staring at her, she jumped down from the fence and ran away. Pasha didn’t know how long she had been watching but was sure the girl would never forget what she had just seen. She was too young now, but maybe the girl would grow up to be a hard catfighter like Pasha. And with this happy thought, Pasha closed her eyes.

Pasha didn’t know how long she lay there. The sprinklers suddenly stopped, leaving the loud silence of a very quiet neighbourhood. She opened her eyes and, in a daze, she finally stood up, feeling her muscles ache as she stood. Then she slowly walked towards the red front door of the house. After climbing the steps and walking across the porch, she rang the doorbell. It took a while, but eventually she heard footsteps striding towards her.
The door swung open and the words, “well it’s about ti-” were cut off, as Fay stared open-mouthed at Pasha.
Pasha looked at Fay and tried to see things from her point of view. She had marks on her face and probably some blood, although the sprinklers must have washed most of that off. She was wearing a completely soaked dress that had grass and mud stains on it.
“Bloody hell, are you okay?” asked Fay in surprise. “What happened? Are you okay? Did you have an accident?"
"You could say that," Pasha replied, but when Fay's eyes widened, she shook her head gingerly. "I got into a fight."
“A fight? But - with who?"
“My sister,” Pasha said, her jaw aching, “on you - your front lawn.”
Her brow furrowing, Fay looked at her front lawn. It was wet with disturbed patches of grass and dirt all over it. Harlie’s clothing lay abandoned and crumpled. She turned back to Pasha.
“What happened to my gate?”
“It broke - accidentally.”
“Because you and your sister had a fight in my front yard,” said Fay slowly.
Pasha nodded.
Fay looked lost. “Um … why?”
Pasha shook her head. “Can I come in?”
Fay blinked at her and then stepped backwards, and Pasha slowly walked inside.
Fay closed the door, and Pasha stared at her. She hadn’t noticed initially, but Fay’s usually well kept hair was dishevelled as if she had just woken up. Her lipstick looked smeared. She had a tight white dress on that barely came past her ass.
“I was in the study,” said Fay, noticing Pasha looking at her. “I thought you weren’t coming. I tried to call you. I just started to - to read. Well - you know. I mean ….” She stopped and regarded Pasha, perhaps remembering that they were hated rivals. “But I think that you’ve got more explaining to do than me,” she said.
“My sister and I had just arrived here,” said Pasha, speaking evenly, although she just wanted to get into a soothing shower. “We got into a - an argument. Then we started fighting in your front yard.” She paused. “Um, you didn’t … hear anything?”
Fay looked startled again. “Well - um - I mean, I told you I was in the study,” she finished firmly.
But as she spoke, there was movement further into the house, and they both turned. A woman emerged from the hallway. Her brunette hair was tousled, but unlike Fay, it suited her. She was dressed in black shorts and a light blue top that was creased around the bottom and partly tucked into her shorts.
Pasha's first two thoughts were, 'in the study, yeah right,' and 'wow, she's yummy.'
The woman stopped a few feet away from Pasha with her eyes wide. “What happened to you?” she blurted out.
“Um - well - who are you?”
“Oh - I’m Joey. Fay's ... supporter. And you’re Persia, right?”
“Pasha,” said Pasha. “As I was just saying, believe it or not, I just got into an unplanned fight with my sister, which is why I'm late."
Joey looked at her and then looked around.
"Well she's not here now, but -"
“How convenient," said a hard voice.
Both Pasha and Joey turned towards Fay, whose arms were crossed and her nose wrinkled more than usual.
"What?" said Pasha.
“You heard me,” said Fay, her voice rising. “I don’t believe your bullshit story. You know, after our last fight, where I damaged you so badly, I thought you might call it quits. But I never thought you would chicken out like this."
“What? What are you talking about? I kicked your ass in our last fight!”
Fay’s eyes grew narrower. “Well, yes, you won. Then you sent me all those gloating messages and e-mails, which is fine. However, we both know who the true woman is now. Evidently, you knew back then that you didn’t want to fight anymore. You knew I was starting to kick your ass too badly -”
“I've got a two to zero record against you!” shouted Pasha, ignoring her numb face muscles. “You've never even won a fight against me! I mean, do you really think - I don’t believe this - that I beat myself up to get out of fighting someone like you? My sister and I -”
“Oh, yeah right,” yelled Fay. “Well where is she now then?”
“She - she went home.”
“How convenient!” repeated Fay, in her high-pitched, squeaky voice. "How positively, absolutely, magically convenient. Do you think I’m a fucking idiot? I've been waiting for months for this, and you think you can just waste my time with this lame bullshit? Instead of admitting you can't hack it, you come up with some bullshit weak excuse to stop from fighting me and -"
Pasha couldn’t believe what she was hearing. First her sister and now this. She simply stood stunned as Fay’s extraordinarily irritating voice got louder and faster. Was the world being populated with more and more idiotic and delusional freaks by the day? Was she the only sane person left? She looked at Joey, who looked back at her with a surprised expression.
Pasha's ears were ringing by now, and so she gave Fay a mild slap with her hand. Fay stopped ranting, and she looked at Pasha with unspeakable rage. With a battle cry, she charged at Pasha and tackled her around the waist. They both hurtled towards the wall, and Pasha let out a loud ‘ugh’ as her back smacked painfully against it. Just after this happened, however, Pasha felt Fay pull away from her and looked up to see Joey, bless her heart, holding Fay tightly around the waist and trying to get her to calm down. She wasn’t really succeeding.
“Hey. Hey! HEY!!” Pasha yelled.
Fay stopped struggling. Both she and Joey looked at Pasha.
“Fay, listen to me,” said Pasha, starting to feel dizzy again and wanting to end this as soon as possible. “We’re not getting anywhere here. Now we’re just going to have to agree to disagree, but I’ll say this to you: I’m not trying to get out of fighting you. I promise you we’ll arrange another fight for very soon from now. If you still think I’m chickening out, I give you permission to break into my house at night, wake me up and start punching me. Except right now, I’d be really grateful if I could have a shower, borrow some clothes and go home. Okay?”
Joey, stifling a smile, agreed. After some muttering and scowling, so did Fay. Joey went with Pasha to the shower.
“Thanks for the - you know,” said Pasha.
“Don’t mention it,” said Joey. “Listen, I promise I won’t tell, you really did fight your sister, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” said Pasha.
Joey looked relieved. “Oh well, that’s good. I mean, I couldn’t really respect you if you didn’t.”
“You sound like a catfighter yourself,” said Pasha.
“Oh yes,” said Joey, smiling wanly, and Pasha saw that she had very cute dimples. “And Fay told me all about your fights with her. It sounded quite yummy and hardcore. If she wasn’t exaggerating, that is.”
“Well I guess there’s only one way to find out,” said Pasha, smiling sweetly.
Joey smiled even wider, her dimples deepening. “Fresh towels in that cupboard,” she indicated with her finger before leaving the room.
Pasha watched Joey leave; her hair bounced as she walked. Then Pasha went into the bathroom.

A short time later, Pasha had showered her aching body and was dressed in what appeared to be the oldest pieces of clothing Fay could find. The t-shirt had holes in it and paint stains down the front.
“It suits you,” said Fay, smirking then turning and walking away. “In so many ways,” she added loudly.
Pasha watched her go and felt anger in the pit of her stomach. Not about the clothes (she would have done the same) but about the missed opportunity of fighting Fay today. Fay’s recent tantrum had revealed a level of stupidity that was deeper than Pasha had realised. Calling her a liar and a coward after she had kicked her blonde ass twice! “It just goes to show, some people never learn,” she said under her breath. On the upside, she thought, things like this only strengthened one’s resolve for next time. After all, who wants a friendly, sensible and likeable opponent?
Joey sat with Pasha in Fay’s kitchen, as they waited for Pasha’s taxi. They made small talk, and Pasha found out that Joey was a lecturer at the local University.
Pasha thought that Joey was sweet and liked the perfume she was wearing.
A few minutes later, a horn beeped outside.
“Here,” said Joey, offering Pasha some money. “You said your handbag was still in Harlie’s car.”
“Oh no, I’ll just tell him to wait when I get home,” said Pasha.
“C’mon, just take it,” said Joey. “I have a feeling we’re going to see each other again.”
Pasha smiled, took the money and thanked her. She turned to leave but then stopped and turned back. "Um, can I ask you something?" said Pasha.
"Anything," said Joey.
"Well, you and Fay. How do you know each other?"
Joey smiled and brushed some hair from her face. "We met at a bar," she said.
Pasha nodded, then said goodbye to Joey and left.

As Pasha rode home, she thought of her sister. She now about just how bad things had gotten between them. Also, making up all that stuff about sleeping with Larry had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now she wasn't sure if it was the smartest move. She also thought about Harlie stealing her necklace. She had obviously taken it while Pasha was in the shower, but Pasha had had a suspicion for a while now that a few of her things had inexplicably been disappearing. She couldn’t believe her sister could do this to her. She remembered her sister's face, when Pasha had 'admitted' to the affair, and her sister threatening to kill her before she drove off. She also remembered how mad Fay had gotten when she found out that she and Pasha would not be fighting today. Pasha wondered if it was time to change the locks on her house.
When she got home, she paid the driver, got out of the car and started walking up her driveway. Despite her anger at her sister, blood was thicker than water. She still hoped that the rift between her and Harlie could somehow be reversed soon. She knew Harlie would recover from their unexpectedly one-sided fight. It was in their blood to keep on fighting. Pasha had a happy marriage, and she wanted her sister to be happy for her.
She rang the doorbell and waited. Terrence opened it. He was seven years old than she was and had close-cropped hair on the sides. He winced at her bruises and then looked her up and down.
“Why are you wearing that? What happened to your clothes?”
“I’ll explain in a minute. Let’s go sit down.”
He led her to the lounge room.
“Did you come home in a cab? Where’s your sister? Did you two patch things up?”
“Please, only two questions at a time,” said Pasha, sitting down. She waited for Terrence to sit down, but he just stood in front of her. She looked up and saw that he had an odd expression on his face.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He kept staring and then looked at her face.
“I have one more question,” he finally said.
“Well, what is it, honey?”
He swallowed.
“Where’s your wedding ring?”
Pasha immediately looked down and gasped. He was right. Where could it have gone? Was it Harlie? Did she steal it? Did it fall off during the fight? Fay? Joey?
She looked back up at her husband. He had been generally unconcerned, when Harlie had accused her of sleeping with Larry, but now he definitely looked a little more concerned. A little more suspicious.