Saucy Chloe

This is post 24 of Section II. To begin at the beginning, go here. Section II begins here

She bent down, knowing it would not work, and picked up his bottle, handing it backwards to him while she picked up the pepper sauce with her free hand.
He said nothing. Had not noticed. Distracted by the beer, wrapped up in his demented drama. She clutched the bottle to her nightgown, pretending to have trouble opening it, using folds of material to unscrew the lid and conceal the contents.
He sipped, still not noticing, then looked at her critically while she braced herself for more (make believe) ridicule and humiliation.
But he said, “Need some help, sugar?” He laid his beer on the counter and reached out—and she let the sauce fly in his face, grabbed the gun, and held it on him.

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