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Chapter Nineteen
Hangman
Iget home early inthe evening, to get ready to go over to Justine’s for the night. I haven’t seen her since I dropped her off yesterday morning. But I’ve texted with her. My phone rings just as I’m heading out the door and I see that it’s April. My daughter Emily’s mother.
“Yeah?”
“You’re dating?” she screeches into the phone, I take it away slightly, wincing at the noise.
“Bitch, how is that any of your business?”
“Maybe it’s because we have a child together, maybe it’s the fact that I’m in love with you and thought now that Vicky is out of the picture, oh I don’t know, that we’d be together?” This bitch is whacked.
“Yeah, we have a kid together, but that’s it. I haven’t touched you in years. What makes you think I’d want you now? Used, dried-up, old cunt?”
Her breath becomes jagged. “You didn’t just say that to me.”
“I did, deal with it. Now unless you need something from me concerning Emily, then fuck off.” I hang up and go to throw my phone but think better of it. Last thing I want to do is to have to buy a new phone right now. Especially since this one is practically new.
It looks like I have a loose end to deal with, but right now, my time is needed elsewhere, with Justine.
I head out, locking my door behind me and take off towards Justine’s house. It’s then I notice a delivery truck unloading some items and going inside. I frown, I thought she just moved in, what’s all this shit for.
“Hello?” I say, entering her house.
“Carson?” Justine calls out. “Sorry, come in we’re just setting up some furniture.”
I walk into her living room and see men unpackaging new couches and a TV. “What’s with the new stuff?”
“Oh, most of the stuff here was Tomas’s, so since he moved out next door, I kind of need my own shit.”
What kind of man leaves a woman with no furniture? Shouldn’t Tomas have bought new stuff instead?
“Get that look off your face, I told Tomas to take all of his things, I can easily afford to get my own furniture,” Justine sasses me.
I smirk, my hand twitches, eager to spank her ass.
I lean against the wall, waiting for the men to finish their jobs. One looks like he’s eager to talk to Justine but keeps glancing at me, unsure of his next move. Glaring at him, I dare him to say something; my fist will be in his face so fast. Mine. Justine is mine.
“Babe,” I call out to her, the man that was eyeing her goes pale and his eyes go back to his job.
“Yeah?”
“Supper done soon?”
“Yeah, babe, just another few minutes.” She’s been going back and forth between the living room, watching the guys work, and the kitchen.
It doesn’t take the guys much longer to finish everything up, they hand Justine a clipboard and have her sign for her shit and they take off, giving me a wide berth.
