“You remember my Mom?”“Yes.” I said meekly. “Hello.”Mrs. Martin continued to glare silently.“The brat beside her is my sister Kit.”“...’m not a brat. Kit snapped. “I’m eighteen!” She turned back to me, her eyes missing my face by quite a distance. “Hello.” She added animatedly.I struggled to get off of the two women and ended up pressed between them, my hands pinned under my thighs so as to make myself fit in a smaller space. Mike glanced over his shoulder.“And this,” He said by way of. He Wolf with the Red Roses, by Chloe Tzang© 2017 Chloe Tzang. All rights reserved. The author asserts a moral right to be identified as the author of this story. This story or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a review. [Boy:] On a hot summer night, would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses?[Girl:] Yes.[Boy:] I bet you say that to all the. More

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