Page 72 of Mommy

Cutting the engine, I wait for the car to creep down the road, except— it doesn’t.

Instead of coming closer, it stopped a few blocks away.

Did he see me?

Impossible. It’s dark as fuck and my entire outfit is black.

And even if he did, why would another driver keep him from returning home to his family?

The answer opens the passenger door.

Light comes to life in the car, bringing two people into view. One is the man I saw earlier, the other is a girl that is definitely not his wife. I know, because in his files I saw that he’s been married for years. And not to the girl in his car.

My hands ball into fists when the young brunette leans over to kiss him goodbye before she gets out.

At a corner, she turns back once checking the street, but not seeing me in the shadows before she quickly makes her way down a different road.

After another painfully long minute, the car finally creeps into the driveway.

Enough time for me to take up my space in the surrounding thicket.

I almost pity the guy, when he gets out of his car. His body doesn’t seem to work in his favor, making it hard for him to even squeeze out from behind the wheel.

That won’t save him though.

Not after what he said to Ivory.

“Well, well, well.” I say loud enough for my voice to carry out of the dark and onto the driveway.

He turns, but my hand is already grabbing hold of his neck from behind, before he can face me.

“If it isn’t mister ‘I cheat on my wife and yell at young women’?” I’ll leave it to him for whom I’m taking revenge here. He can figure it out. Or don’t. It’s not like I really care.

I don’t care about his stutters either, it’s just a blubbering of words that I don’t care to understand.

“Pshh.” I shush him, using my grip on his neck to haul his body backwards into the bushes I was just hiding in.

He makes an attempt to move away from me, into the direction of the house, but… as I said, his body isn’t really helping him achieve his goals. It’s almost too easy to drag him into the shadows with me and turn him to face me.

He can’t see me. Not really at least.

I didn’t bother with the helmet, and instead I simply flipped open the visor. The fleeting light doesn’t do him any favors. He’s greeted with a shiny black shape of a large head, with two glimmering eyes staring out of the slit.

I hope he has nightmares about this.

“What do you want?” he starts blubbering again, and I blow out an annoyed breath.

“I don’t want anything from you,” I say, meaning it. “I’m just here to make sure that after fucking around…you find out.”

I let go of his collar, but not long enough for him to flee. Just long enough for me to ball my fist and smash it directly into his face.

The knuckle protectors of my gloves come in really handy, because I cannot feel a thing, even though I used my full force.

The wailing that fills the thicket tells me that my dear friend here did feel the punch.

“Next time, think about who you’re hurting when you yell and cheat.” I suggest and pummel my fist into his face again. And again. And again.

He called her a whore.