She didn’t accept. Nate scowled and, mightily drunk, excused himself from the party as quickly as possible. Allison saw him go. Mel didn’t. She fo...nd him slumped in his office chair with a bottle of beer, seemingly absorbed in some piece of writing. “Nate?” He leapt nearly a foot in the air. “Oh, hi Allison,” he said, “Are you, uh, having a good time?” “Yes, yes,” she said, slowly moving towards him. He felt the old feelings for her welling up inside of him, or was that the alcohol? “What are. She sucked in her breath tightly, trying to hold back her overwhelming urge to hit and scratch the gangster's gloating, blood-infused face, to pick up a knife and plunge it through the ice-water heart of this insidiously corrupting man. But she couldn't; all she could do was sprawl helplessly while Zeigler roamed his hands over her body at will, building up to the final, most indecent liberty of all, and a cascade of tears once more poured her mortification and sickness down over her trembling. More

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