Just One Bed Pt. 02

They were still wrapped in half-sleep when the knock came--sharp, fast, urgent.

Knock knock knock.

They froze."Daniel? Are you in there?"

His eyes flew open. Hers too.

"Wait," she whispered, "Is that--"

"Mom?" he croaked, sitting up. "What the hell..."

The doorknob jiggled. A pause. Then her voice again--this time firmer.

"I saw the car. I know you're in there."

Bunnie's eyes went wide. She scrambled for the sheet, tugging it up to cover her chest. "What is she doing here?!"

"Long story," he hissed, grabbing for his boxers. "She was heading to the same damn town for that estate thing. She must've stopped here overnight too."

"You didn't think to mention that?!"

"I forgot!"

Another knock.

"I'm coming in if you don't answer."

The key turned. He'd forgotten to lock the deadbolt.

The door opened. There she stood--their mother--hair pinned up, sensible purse slung over her shoulder, wearing the look of a woman who expected to find her middle-aged sons sulking over hangovers... not one of them naked in bed with their half-covered sister.

"Oh my God--" Barbara shreiked.

Daniel stood halfway dressed, frozen.

Bunnie yanked the sheet tighter and squeaked.

"Mom, wait-- it's not what it looks like--", he said as he stared down at his throbbing prong pushing through his boxers.

"Really?" she snapped, hand flying to her chest. "Because it looks like the two of you just--what the hell is wrong with you two?!"

Silence.

Then Bunnie sat up straighter, voice calmer than expected.

"We're both adults, Mom. Divorced. Free. We didn't plan this--it happened. And no, we're not ashamed."

Their mother stared, stunned. "This is--this is--completely inappropriate! You're family!"

"Not by blood," Daniel said firmly. "Not even raised together after the split. You know that."

She blinked, stunned by his tone."You really expect me to just... accept this? Neither of you are aware of the truth, the reason we separated you so young. The man who raised Bunnie was not her biological father, all just a ruse to keep you both from the family curse!"

Bunnie met her eyes. She knew mother was about to ruin everything.

"No," she said, knowing she had to silence her mom before Daniel heard anymore. "We expect you to deal with it. Not another word, Barbara!"

A tense beat. Bunnie's eyes stared through her mother.

Then the door shut again--hard. They sat in silence, listening to their moms overly sensible shoes stomp and drag across the porch, away from their door and into the dirt drive.

And then... Daniel burst out laughing.

"Well," Bunnie said relieved, "so much for keeping things low-key."

"Yeah," Daniel smirked, pulling her back into his lap. "I suppose you're right. Might need to book a third night now. Give her time to cool off."

She grinned."Or we could just stay in bed and give her something else to complain about."

He kissed her--slow, smiling.

No regrets.

The laughter faded slowly, replaced by the kind of silence that crackles with defiance. Bunnie curled back under the sheets, her cheek against Daniel's chest, both of them still flushed and tangled.

"She's probably pacing the parking lot," Bunnie muttered. "Calling someone. Praying. Plotting."

"She'll get over it," Daniel said, running a hand lazily through her hair, "Eventually."

"And if she doesn't?"

He didn't even hesitate, "Still worth it."

She looked up at him, surprised by the certainty in his voice. Then she smiled--wide, real, wicked, "Same."

An hour passed.

No knock. No message. No apology.

So they got dressed. Slowly. Deliberately. Still riding the intensity of the night. Still high from the night.

Daniel slipped on worn jeans and a black tee, then grabbed the pipe from the nightstand.

"Round three in the future?" he asked, handing it to her.

She took a pull, held it in, exhaled slow.

"Keep me in a bed like this," she said, eyes gleaming, "and I'll lose count."

They stepped out into the morning sun like nothing happened.

The mother was still there. By her car. Arms crossed. Face tight.

She watched them approach--together, calm, freshly showered, smiling like co-conspirators.

"Unbelievable," she muttered.

Daniel met her gaze. "We're not sorry."

Bunnie didn't flinch. "You can freak out. Or you can respect that we're adults making adult decisions."

"Adult decisions?" she snapped, "You're siblings."

Daniel shook his head. "No, we're not. We're two people with a shared past, not shared blood. We've both lived full lives, made painful choices, and found something here that feels... right."

"You think this is healthy?" she asked, eyes darting between the incestual lovers, "You think this ends well? You don't realize how hard we worked to save you both. Well, you obviously don't, Daniel. But I'll bet Bunnie is fully aware."

"I think," Bunnie said, stepping forward, "that for once, we're not asking for anyone's permission. Nor will WE, continue being lied to, Barbara." She began staring her mother down.

Daniel saw for the first time a darkness he never knew Bonnie was capable of, something about her switched and sent cold chills throughout his entire body. It felt... evil.

There it was. The line. The unspoken threat as Bunnie seemed to will her mother away.

Line Crossed.

Barbara stared at them--speechless, and frozen with fear in her eyes. Then got in her car, slammed the door, and pulled out of the lot.

Not a word. Not a look back at them.

Just gone.

They stood in the parking lot, wind tugging at their clothes.

"Well," Daniel said, "I guess Thanksgiving just got quieter."

"That," Bunnie grinned, "sounds like a gift."

They looked at each other, and for a long moment, neither spoke.

Then she slipped her arm around his waist.

"Next motel?"

"One with mirrors this time," he said. "And thicker walls and better locks."