Slick
Copyright© 2019 by KingBandor
Chapter 9
“You don’t listen well. Do you, Slick?” I asked as I pressed the hard metal of my gun against his ribs. “What did I tell you I would do to any bastard who fucked my wife?”
“We haven’t done anything!” Jude urgently pleaded. “I swear it!”
“Really?” I asked with raised eyebrows, “Nothing?”
“Yes! Nothing!” she confirmed.
“Slick, I’m going to move to the other side of the table. If you try to run or make a scene, I’ll blow a hole in the back of your head the size of a grapefruit. Comprendez-vous?”
He nodded.
I slid out of the booth and around to the other side so that I could face them. For the first time, Jude and I met each other’s full gaze. She looked down, full of shame.
I placed an envelope on the table and pulled a folder out of it. I reached inside and pulled out a surveillance photograph. It showed Jude in Marcel’s arms, and they were kissing.
“Nothing, huh?” I asked.
“Where did you get that?” Jude demanded.
“Oh, no, denials? You only want to know how I got it. How about this one?”
It showed them seated on a sofa in Marcel’s office. They were making out, and he had his hand in her yoga pants.
“Some of your private yoga lessons no doubt,” I said. “What pose is that?”
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