I rolled my eyes and turned my head away. I didn't have to fake much at being repulsed by the idea.
She started to get up, and I needed to keep her distracted. If what she said was true, then Tabby and most likely Mark would be coming. I needed the people inside not paying attention to the outside. I played a gamble. "I know why you really hate Tabby though."
Melinda stopped and looked up at me, one finely sculpted eyebrow arching. "Oh? Please educate me."
"You're jealous," I said simply. Melinda sat back down, and I could see one of the men by the window turn his head in our direction. I decided to play it to the maximum.
"You're jealous because somehow, even though she was only with him once, Tabby captured your husband more than you ever have. I can understand though. She's more beautiful, sexier, and when we're making love, it's like nothing else in the world. You, for all your outer beauty, could never compare. Remember, I've seen you in action on tape. Hell, you needed a wannabe junior high girl to even get Shawn off. If you were as good as you say you are, you could have had him without needing a prop."
"Asshole, you have no idea what you're talking about," she seethed, but I could see her fingers twisting in her lap. She was pissed off, and I pushed it further.
"What was it that first told you? Was it when he was asleep, maybe having a dream and her name came out? Was it during those first few weeks after Snowman had done what he did, and you were using every little trick you knew? You obviously are skilled, but it just wasn't doing anything? He was probably trying to do his best to make up for losing his cock by using his hands and his mouth. A mumbled word as he caressed you, as you were trying to convince yourself it was still good enough, but then he said her name. That was it, wasn't it? You hate Tabby because your husband knew he'd never have better than her anyway. Huh, I wonder. Maybe his mental block would evaporate if he just thought it was her. Why not try putting on a red wig, losing the fake n' bake tan, and you might find that Scott's got a little more steel in the rod than you thought."
"Motherfucker!" Melinda screamed, leaping to her feet and slapping me as hard as she could. Thankfully, I'd anticipated it, and could roll with the slap somewhat. That, and Sophie and Mark both had hit me harder in training, I barely felt it.
I could taste some blood in my mouth though. I started chuckling, forcing the blood out to dribble from my lips. "Tabby even smacks harder than you do."
She raised her hand again, when one of the men raised his voice. "Ma'am. Remember, Berkowitz wants him alive. We need to stick to the plan."
Melinda's hand froze in mid-swing, and I saw that this time there was a knife in her hand. Grinning through bloody teeth, I shook my head lightly. I wanted to taunt her some more, but I knew I was pushing my luck as it was. I had her distracted and angry, but if I pushed her any further, she might just not give a damn about Francine Berkowitz's orders.
"Fine. I'll still have his balls for Christmas dinner," Melinda replied. "How's that for Rocky Mountain oysters?"
I was about to reply, when suddenly the night exploded, and gunfire rattled through the air. I dove to the side, hoping that whoever the hell was shooting wouldn't aim at floor level. The office chair tipped over, and I impacted hard on my right shoulder, groaning when I felt my arm pop out of socket. I think getting shot hurt less.
I couldn't see who was attacking, but I had my suspicions. Turning to the front of the store, I saw one of the gunmen down, while another three were already beginning to return fire.
"Fuck it, I'll still get my prize," I heard, and turned to see Melinda Pressman coming towards me, the knife in her hand and a gleam in her eyes.
To Be Continued…
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