Unkind. Unkind would be if he sank his already blood soaked fingernails into Lucy's neck. Unkind would be if he wrapped his fingers in her blond hair and pulled until he heard the delightful sound of her neck snapping. Unkind would be if he grabbed her and beat her head against this tree until her skull split open.
But as delightful thoughts as those all were, he didn't have the energy for any of them.
"I will, Madam Saxon," Owen said, the words sounding foreign on both his tongue and to his ears. "I will keep this in mind."
Lifting his eyes to the sky, Owen blinked back tears that were threatening to fall. It would have been much nicer if he didn't have to sit here alone.