“Oh damn YOU,” Deanna retorted, turning back towards the approaching group. “Like I give a shit, queer boy.”
When she turned around again, her friends were already in their cars and preparing to drive away. Their sense of humor was every bit as twisted as hers. They would get a good laugh at leaving her here with a group of people who were quite obviously pissed at her. And Megan was right: she didn’t have her knife. Shit!
Within no time, they had her cornered.
“All right,” she snarled, putting up her fists. “Who wants it first?”
Ted and Ron, who both had a significant size advantage over her, merely laughed. Megan outweighed her too, but was still too afraid of her to make light of it. Anna seemed unwilling to participate in the taking of revenge at all. Megan found it more than understandable.
“You’re coming with us,” Ron commanded.
“Like hell I am!” she snapped, taking a step back.