Camille stood in the rain and waited for her ex-boyfriend to come home. Why had she dumped him? That’s the question she’d been asking herself since it started raining. Sure he was a jerk and treated her horribly, but if they had stayed together, she wouldn’t be in this position now.
If she hadn’t left him she wouldn’t be standing there now, her dark wet hair hanging in her face, in front of his apartment. The info she had gotten had said he would be home by eight and now, an hour later it was getting dark. Did he suspect she was waiting for him?
Finally a car pulled into his parking spot, her car. She gave the signal and her four brothers, who had been hiding in the bushes under the only overhang, approached Toby as he got out. Irritation flared briefly, all the men got to stay dry for this, until now. Oh well, she thought—that’s the price she’d had to pay to be lookout.
Toby glanced around nervously before handing Camille’s keys to her oldest brother, Jacob. “I don’t want any trouble.”
Jacob turned to her but she shook her head slightly. “Looks like it’s not your lucky day,” he said as he tossed the keys to Camille.
“Wait,” she blurted. The expression on her ex’s face turned sly, as it always did when she gave in. Camille sighed and walked to the driver’s side door. Toby opened his arms, for a hug, she guessed. She pushed him out of her way and got in the car. Inside she found a girl a year younger than her sitting in the passenger seat.
“Will they hurt him badly?” the girl asked.
“Yes. Thanks for helping me get my car back sis.”
“Next time you get a boyfriend, either don’t let them use your car, or get it back before dumping them okay?”
“And rob the boys of their fun? We’ll see. Besides, he should have remembered we have brothers before he slept with both of us. How about next time you don’t have sex with anyone while I’m dating them?”
Camille nodded and started the car, backing carefully out of the space. She peeked in the rear view mirror once. Satisfied with the resulting view, she drove away.
This piece is a result of a prompt: Blood is thicker than water. I do not advocate violence, nor am I in support of anyone – male or female – stupidly standing in the rain waiting on people who aren’t worth it.