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"So what happened?"
She was wringing the fuck out of her hands now, nervous much, Suzette?
"I don't, I...they said..." She couldn't seem to form words.
"They, who's they?"
"Karen...and... Terry."
She said his name as though she was afraid I would snap. She wasn't too far off; hearing his name on her lips made me see fucking red.
"They said you were having a thing with Justine."
"The fuck, who the fuck is Justine?" Was she delusional?
"Justine Deluca, your leading lady from..."
"I know which fucking movie she's from. Are you fucking shitting me? That was two fucking years ago, and I never saw her off set."
"No, no, they had proof; they said they had pictures." Her eyes were darting all over the room.
"They have pictures of me fucking Justine Deluca?" The fuck?
"Well, not exactly, just some compromising shots."
"And you saw these pictures with your own two eyes?" Was I having an out-of-body experience? I have no fucking clue what she was talking about.
"A few yes, I couldn't... Couldn't bear to look at all of them."
"When did they show you these pictures?"
"In the middle of filming."
"And you didn't think to tell me this shit?"
"I didn't know what to do; I didn't want to believe it, please; I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Fuck she was shaking again.
"Calm down, Butterfly."
"Listen, I don't know what pictures they showed you, but the only time I was with Justine was during filming or doing promos. You were there from the second day, remember? When the fuck was I supposed to have fucked her? And why did this just come up after two fucking years?"
"They said you were still seeing her."
"Are you fucking insane? We spend all our time together. WHEN THE FUCK WAS I SEEING HER?"
She looked a little bewildered. Hopefully, she was realizing how fucking stupid she had been. Those fuckers had played her like a fucking banjo. I couldn't wait to fuck those motherfuckers up.
"That still doesn't explain what the fuck you were doing in that fucking car with that piece of shit, though, does it?"
I had to walk away before I did something I would regret. This shit was harder than I thought. I left her crying and went up to my room. I'd had enough for the fucking day.
Who knows what fuckery James was going to show up here with to send me over the edge. I was strung tight as a motherfucker, something's gotta give, or I'm gonna lose my shit. I laid on the covers of my bed, trying to put the pieces together.
Obviously, O’Reilly was part of whatever the fuck was going on, so the who were coming together, I just needed to figure out the whys. It didn't matter why though; whatever the reasoning, I was gonna go Kublai Khan on their motherfucking asses.
