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What did it matter after all? Better to just keep quiet. Women had been dealing with this kind of situation since the dawn of time.But as I stared at the soiled scrap of cloth in my bed (MY bed) I knew that was impossible; I couldn’t ignore this. I’m not that person! I don’t smile and say nothing! I am not the fucking other woman! A holy rage swept up my body and I stomped across to the bed and snatched up the panties.Downstairs, I tossed the underwear on the dining room table and headed to the kitchen for more wine. My senses were roiling now, an icy sharp dagger in my chest that spread out and filled every extremity with tingling, burning energy. It built up until it felt like I would explode. I needed to do something, hit something, hurt something. I shouldn’t have to be the one who hurts! Hands shaking, I poured more wine into my glass. I drank too fast and coughed. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and drank again. I set the glass down too hard, snapping the foot from. Couldn't think of anything else in the time available.We slowed a short distance from the club and I rolled into position; far enough away to appear inconspicuous, close enough to see the entrance through the chain-link fence that surrounded the lot. The place was nothing more than a bunch of cheap connected office spaces that Monroe had bought and knocked through to form one large area inside. No exterior signage denoted its nature, its reputation spread only by word of mouth.I killed the engine, turning to Taylor, only just remembering to meet her eyes before she caught me roving the outline of her pussy lips beneath the delicate peach underwear."You got everything, right?"She nodded and I pressed on."No deviation. Just demand payment, deliver the message and get out. We'll be waiting."Another nod."Good."Meredith rummaged in her purse. "Any shit, use this and run." She handed the teen a canister of pepper spray and smiled at my look. "What? You're not the only cautious person.
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