Pushing my arm around to my back, he lifted my hand up between my shoulder blades. I winced at the pain. His big knuckles ran up and down my cheek, "N...ce – you're white as a motherfucking angel in a graveyard." he sucked in my sent while he stunk of booze and sweat, "Smell nice to." The gun barrel with my husband's blood on it bobbed beside by face as he rubbed my cheek with the back of his rough hands. I'm sure my eyes were wide with fear, my heart had been pounding so very hard since I first. It felt just right, having someone to share and confide in. I noticed with amusement that I was sitting in the corner of my couch, legs together and drawn up into the seat, just like I’d seen so many girls do in so many movies as they chatted with their friends. She did not mention the fight I had with Tony, which was a great relief. I had no idea what she had seen or heard, but she seemed very eager to meet me again. We ended up planning a girl’s weekend together without Tony. The moment she. More

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