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She bull dozed through the circle-the circle jerk as these over bred cock sucking pricks called it-deliberatly and furiously sending as many of them flying as she could. That was fine, they wanted to play this stupid, male hormonally charged games amongst themselves, but they were playing it using Jack and that was a wrong so horribly monumental that she was choking on tears. ‘Hi Linni Lin.’ Jack tried to smile at her, seeing that she was upset and worrying that she was mad at him, that he’d maybe done something bad. He winced when it made his swollen, split lip sting, and snuffled up a snotful of blood that way trying to ooze out of both his nostrils. Lindi made a sound, a low pitched, choked, snarling whine. Then she pivoted with a dancer’s ease and punched the young man she hadn’t been fast enough to stop from mockingly bitch slapping Jack. She hit him as hard as she could, putting every inch and every ounce of the pain and the rage and the sadness not ever really being able to. It’s just important that you meet me down here.’ Stacy released a long sigh recognizing that her relaxing evening was blown. ‘Well, okay.’ The Killer now knew the target was coming to the hotel. He was certainly ready. He stared blankly into the large mirror in the hotel suite. He didn’t have time to wax philosophic about what he was and what he’d done with his life. ‘I am what I am,’ he said to his reflection. Besides, he had a client to be serviced. He laughed internally at the professional way he described it. ‘Client’. ‘Serviced’. He laughed again. Stacy parked. She thought about what the hell was going on and what Luke had planned. She didn’t hate her husband or anything extreme…she loved him…she guessed. She decided that she was just bored. She pulled down the visor and ensured her makeup was straight and her hair wasn’t out of whack. It was the least she could do. She walked into the hotel lobby—the nicest in their town—and waived off the guy behind the counter. She looked.
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