Charity had gathered up her panties and other clothing and fled to the bathroom where she locked herself in to dress and put herself in order again.
In spite of the fact that she had, indeed, had a tremendous orgasm with the two boys, she had regained her straight-thinking processes, again, soon after the orgiastic, three-way, sexual debauchment… and she knew that she was right in refusing to continue. She was glad that her brother, Don, had agreed to take her away. In truth, she really didn't know what she would have done… if he had insisted, also, that she stay. His agreement had restored a measure of her faith in him, for there had been several instances in the last few days when she had been sure that he had betrayed her. At this point, he was all she had of her family. With a shudder she remembered why she had left the house that afternoon; it had been to escape possible molestation by the man she now knew to be her stepfather. She would have to tell Don… on the way back to that dismal house.
They were on Don's motorcycle, Charity mounted behind hanging on to her brother's waist as they roared, noisily, down the street away from the Donahue's house.
Putting her mouth close to Don's ear, she shouted above the roar of the engine, "Don… I'm hungry. Can we stop somewhere…? Besides, I-I want to talk to you!"
"Sure!" he yelled back. "I'll pull into the first place I see."
Over a pair of tacos apiece, Charity, somewhat haltingly, confided in her brother, telling him of her very real fears about their father.
"I-I just know… that he's thinking it… a-and waiting for his chance to… d-do something t-to m-me…"
"Let's lay it out, Sis…!" Don said, bluntly. "What you're saying is… you think the old man wants to get between your legs… right?"
She blushed. "Y-Yes…"
"How do you know… has he said anything… done anything?"
"Well… n-no…" she admitted, "but… th-there's something about the way h-he looks at m-me… like he was u-undressing me… mentally…"
Don recognized himself in her description… and it was his turn to flush, pinkly. Hell! The only difference between me and the old man is… I've already had her… twice! What he said to his sister was: "That's possible… any man would flip for you… including him!"
"Will you… t-take care of m-me… Don… and make sure it n-never happens…?" she asked.
"Like how…?"
"Don't ever l-let him be alone w-with me!" she answered, with conviction.
"All right, Char…" he agreed. "… But, after all he is your father… and…"
"… And, you're m-my brother!" she cut in. "A-And… it happened t-to us…"
"You're right… and you've made your point!"
"Then… y-you'll do it…?"
"Hell, yes!" he gritted. "It's the least I can do for you… now!"
On the way home, Don stopped at a small hardware store in a shopping center. There, he bought a door-locking device that would enable Charity to lock her bedroom door from the inside.
"Hide it somewhere in your room," her brother told her.
"Okay."
"… And, yell like hell… if anything happens!"
"I-I will!"
"Good…! But, don't lock me out, Char…"
"I-I'll have to… Don! It can n-never, never happen… again!"
"Never's a long time!" he said.
"I know!"
They rode along in silence, each absorbed in thoughts of their own. It was Charity who spoke first. "Don…?" she asked. "How are we going to get into the house… w-without h-him knowing it…?"
"We'll go in through the back!"
Don turned off the avenue onto their street. Just before reaching the ramshackle house they had called home for so long, he silenced the engine and coasted into the driveway. Quickly, they dismounted, as Don parked the motor bike, and hurried around to the rear of the old house. Going in ahead of his sister, Don gingerly opened the kitchen door that gave onto the back porch. From there, he could see nor hear nothing. He signaled Charity to stay on the back porch.
Walking through the kitchen and dining room into the living room, he stopped short when he saw his father stretched out on the lumpy sofa. He seemed to be asleep, but as Don came a little closer, he realized the man was dead drunk.
"It's all right, Char!" he called out. "He's laid out drunk… and sleeping it off!"
Charity came to stand beside her brother. She looked down at him where he lay like a lump of dough, slack-faced and unconscious. Her compassion for him came to the fore, even in the face of her strong revulsion.
"Oh, Donnie… he should be put to bed…"
"Hell… let him sleep it off here… where he passed out!"
"No… that sofa's uncomfortable… and he should be covered up… so…"
"That's something else, Sis! One minute you're afraid of him… scared to death he's going to try something with you… and the next, you're the all-American mother!" he grunted in disgust.
"He's still your father!"
Don glanced at her, puzzled by her strange statement. He's still YOUR father! Damn it! What does she mean?
It was but a heart's beat… and Charity realized what she had said. Quickly, she added, "… And mine, too…"
"Yeah… well, like maybe you're right… I'll help you put him to bed, then…"
Together, they half carried, half walked Gabe Scott into his bedroom. Don stripped off the drunken man's trousers and shirt; then, clad only in his underwear, they tucked him, snugly, into the double bed.
That task finished, Don picked up his father's garments to drape them across the back of the vanity chair. An envelope fluttered out of the shirt pocket, and as it lay on the floor, he recognized their mother's handwriting.
Charity recognized it, too! Swiftly, she swooped down to pick up the envelope. Oh! It's Mom's letter t-to me… a-and he found it! He knows… a-about m-me… now!
… But, Don was quicker. He scooped the letter from the floor, saw that it was addressed to his sister, but didn't surrender it to her.
"That's mine… D-Donnie!" Her face flushed, brightly. "Give it t-to me!"
"I know… but it's Mom's writing!" he countered. "… And she did leave a note… didn't she!?"
"It's just for m-me! I-I don't know how he found it…"
"You hid it?" he queried. "Why…?"
"… B-Because… i-it's personal…" she choked, twin tears appearing in her eyes.
Gabe Scott's intention to remain sober had gone down the drain, as so many things had with him, but now, lying in the bed, in his own bedroom, he swam back to partial consciousness through the fog of alcohol in his brain. Don and Charity were there, in the room, their voices somewhat strident as they argued about the note. Charity! She's back!
Raising himself on a none too steady elbow, he said, "So… you li'l bastard bitch… you came back?"
Charity whirled to face him, horror-stricken; then without a word, she ran from the bedroom, through the living room, the dining room and into her own bedroom. Crossing to the connecting door to the bathroom, she shot the bolt, locking it, then digging the new door-locking device out of her purse, she fitted it to her bedroom door. Not until she was completely locked in did she remember that her brother still had the all-revealing letter in his possession.
Dear God! I-I hope Donnie d-doesn't read i-it… too.
Donnie had watched her as she fled, and when he heard her slide the bolt to the bathroom door, he turned back to face his father on the bed where he struggled with the blankets trying to sit up. He mumbled, "Where'd she go?"
"She's gone to her room… Dad…"
"Just le' me get my hands on her…"
"You just cool it… Dad! Stay in bed and sleep it off!" Don's voice had a steely quality Gabe had never heard before.
"What th' hell's this… my own son telling me what t' do?!"
"Yeah… that's right…! And, like keep your hands off of Charity!"
"You makin' threats…?" Gabe blustered.
"No… just laying it on you… like the way it is!"
Gabe made another effort to get up off the bed, but Don pushed him prone, again, and told him, "You better sleep it off, Dad!"
Dimly, through his befogged brain, Gabe Scott knew that he was in no condition to argue or fight. Yeah… sleep it off… tomorrow… I'll take care of both of 'em… tomorrow. He turned away, curled himself into a ball and growled, "Get th' hell out of here!"
Don left the bedroom, Charity's letter still in his hand. I wonder what in hell's so important… and so personal in this?
Closing the bedroom door, he flopped into the overstuffed chair, considered the envelope for a moment and came to his decision. He would read it. Charity probably wouldn't like it… but his curiosity had been aroused. Personal, or not… he had to know the contents.
Removing the sheets from the envelope, he began to read. He read the letter twice, to absorb all that was in it. He whistled between his teeth. "Well…!"
His reaction was not extreme. He took it in stride. Damn! I see why it's so important to Char! She really had it laid on her… but good! Poor little gal…! But, Christ! It sure changes things… that makes me and Char only half-brother and sister!
He thought about it for a moment:… And, Dad knows it, too! He found the letter where Char had hidden it! Hell! No wonder she's scared!
Carrying the letter with him, he went to his own room, still thinking as he stretched out on his bed. There's one thing, for sure! Charity can't stay here…! But, I don't have enough of a stake to get us out! I'll have to do something about that, right away… like tonight!
Glancing out the window, Don saw that the sun was almost down. I'll see if Ray'll help me… he's got that big.45 automatic…
Then, he slept for an hour. He awoke refreshed and went into the kitchen to find some food. There wasn't much to eat, but he threw together a hasty snack and began wolfing it down.
Charity heard him rummaging in the kitchen and came out to join him. She sat down near him, her eyes downcast.
"Y-You read Mom's letter…"
"Yeah… I had to… to find out why it was so damned important to you…"
"Then… y-you know… a-all about Mom… a-and m-me?"
"Yeah…" he mumbled around a mouthful of food. "I'm going to get you out of here!"
"You are…? Oh, Donnie… I-I was hoping y-you'd say that!" She was ecstatic with joy. "I-I just couldn't stay h-here!"
"It'd be hard…" he agreed.
"It'd be impossible!"
"Don't worry, Char…" he grinned. "I'll take care of you… somehow!"
Don didn't tell Charity what he planned to do. Christ! She's got enough to worry about! Right after he finished his plate of food, he arose from the table and told his sister, "He'll probably sleep all night… but stay in your room, anyway… with the doors locked! I'm going out, tonight… for a while."
Charity showed her disappointment in her quick frown of disapproval and her dull, "Oh…"
Quickly, he added, "But, not for long…"
"Why a-are you going… l-leaving me a-alone…?"
"Damn it, Char!" he snapped. "You'll be all right! I've got to find a way to get us out of here… for good!"
On impulse, then, he leaned down and kissed her, quickly, full on the mouth. She was taken by surprise. She gasped, "D-Don…"
"Now, get off my back… and be sure to stay in your room!"
Donnie didn't really know why he had kissed her, but there was a strong feeling in him, at that instant, that he loved his sister more than anything else in the world.
… And, he knew, in the back of his mind, that there was a strong element of danger in what he planned to do. He thrilled to it. There was a challenge in the danger of it.
He left her sitting there, perplexed and puzzled and went directly to his own room, locking the door, securely, behind him. Swiftly, he took the snub-nosed.38 from its hiding place and slipped it into his waistband, put on his jacket and stocking cap and left the house through the back door.
Striding to his big motorcycle he started it and swept out of the driveway to roar off down the street toward the avenue. Damn it! I hated to leave her there… but I don't know any other way to do it!
Ray Donahue came to the door, only after Don had rung the doorbell several times, then leaned on it, hard, in one continuous ring.
"Don… like don't make so much noise, man! What do you want… this time of night?"
Looking at the tall youth, critically, Don knew, on the instant, that Ray was stoned… probably on pot.
"Well… like what are you toked up on, Ray?"
Elaborately, the other invited him in and closed the door, before answering, "I got me some hash, man… the best!"
"And you're stoned… all by yourself?"
"Of course… man except for little old Marcia…"
"Marcia… who?"
"Just little old me… Marcy Lunceford…"
Don was startled by her voice, but was, instantly, agape with surprise when he turned to see her. She was completely nude as she walked from the hallway into the living room and lowered herself to the sofa, stretching out on it and arranging herself, provocatively, sure of her impact on him. She went on, then, "Come on over here, lover boy… I want to see you close up…"
He gulped; the memory of her that night, in her yard, came flashing back to him. She was even more beautiful than he had remembered.
Sitting down beside her, he said, "Okay here I am, now what?"
Marcy ran a trailing hand over his thigh. She smiled a tight, coy little smile and said, "Ray's been telling me some interesting little things about you…"
"That right?" he said with some nonchalance… but his heart skipped a beat. "Like what?" He glanced up at Ray in time to catch him trying to signal Marcy to silence.
If she saw, she chose to ignore it, as she went on, "Oh, things…"
Ray broke in, then, saying, "Want to join us, Don? The party's just starting… and I've got some more hash… What do you say, man?"
"Maybe… like…" He turned back to Marcy and reached out to a full-rounding, naked breast, his hand cupping and caressing, her pink nipple coming to instant, alert erection. He took the berry-like bud between his fingers and squeezed it, hard. She winced and tried to pull away.
"Oh! That hurts!"
Leaning over, his mouth at her ear, he gritted in a low, deadly voice, "That's just for starters! I can think of lots more… so you want to start telling me all those interesting little things Ray's been telling you… about me?!"
"N-No…!" she said, loudly.
In a narcotic haze, Ray had sat down, heavily, into an upholstered chair; now, he struggled to his feet and said, "What the hell's going on?"
"Nothing…" Don said, mildly, innocently.
"He's th-threatening me… trying to make me tell… wh-what you…" Marcy started.
"Shut up, Marcy!" the tall youth shouted. "… Anyway, I didn't say anything… that wasn't the truth."
"You did tell her, though?" Don choked. "You lousy son-of-a-bitch!"
Don was on his feet, instantly, a red veil of anger in his snapping eyes. He balled his fists and attacked with fury. Two hard-swinging blows brought the gangly youth down. Ray fell, heavily, to the floor, blood welling from nose and mouth. He was unconscious.
Don looked down on his crumpled figure, contemptuously, "Some Goddamned friend you turned out to be… you bastard!"
Turning back to Marcy, he grunted, "You ready… now?"
She looked at him in wide-eyed terror. "Y-You won't h-hurt me?"
"Start talking, bitch!"
She put on a fetching smile, stood to her feet and came across the living room to him. Her arms went around him and she lifted her mouth to him to be kissed. Damn! She was desirable… but he would not allow himself to be distracted… yet.
Her naked loins undulated against the growing bulge inside his jeans, and unconsciously, his arms went around her, his hands grasping a white, smoothly rounded buttock in each. He dug in, hard, the satiny flesh rolling out in ridges between his strong fingers. Her hips jerked in toward him, and lie held her tight while she writhed up against him.
He grated in her ear, "Later with the sex… Right now, you're telling me all that louse told you!"
Marcy gasped, "He d-didn't tell me v-very much…"
Suddenly, Don raised one hand and gave her a short, hard smack on her full, rounded buttocks. "What?" he demanded.
"OOooh! P-Please, don't h-hurt me…! I'll tell you! H-He said that you're l-laying your s-sister, Charity… a-and that b-both of y-you fucked h-her… at the s-same t-time…"
"Is that all?"
"Y-Yes… that's all except he w-was bragging about how he d-did it…" she added.
"Now, listen!" Don ground out at her, holding her out at arm's length, his hands grasping her arms above the elbows. "Don't ever tell anybody else… or by God, I'll…" He didn't finish. He was not sure what he could do… short of beating her – or killing her – to keep her quiet. It was a monstrous thought, and he recoiled from it.
"Or you'll wh-what…?" she trembled.
Her beautiful, naked body, quivering in his grasp, suddenly inflamed and incited him. Goddamn it! He had to have her!
"I'll show you, you bitch! I'm going to fuck you… until you can't walk straight!"
Marcy's eyes smoldered with instant desire. "Maybe y-you can… and maybe you c-can't!" she challenged.
The memory of the vicious, humiliating beating Don had suffered because of this girl turned him mean and hard. This was his chance! He'd even the score, once and for all.
"Don't be so damned smug about it… because you're going to get it rammed up into that teasing little belly of yours like you've never had it before!"
With a sudden movement which took her completely by surprise, Don caught her by one wrist, as he released her upper arms, and twisted her arm behind her, turning her so that her back was toward him. Holding the armlock, he walked her down the hall and into the master bedroom, the same one he had been in with Charity and Ray during the afternoon.
Marcy's automatic reaction was to cry out, but as she started to scream, Don clamped a hand over her mouth, while it was still in her throat. "Not one sound, bitch!" he commanded.
He flung her headlong into a heap on the big bed. Instinctively, she curled herself into a protective ball. She didn't know what to expect from him… a beating… or sexual ravishment. He was acting like a madman.
Then Don stepped back and stripped off his jacket. The butt of the.38 stuck in the waistband of his jeans attracted her attention; her eyes rounded in real fright. He saw her reaction at the sight of the gun and reached down to remove it. Holding it up to her he chortled, "Nice… huh? It's a great little equalizer! Nobody'll ever get the chance to beat me up, again… like Jack Roberts and his goons!"
"Y-You w-wouldn't use th-that… would y-you?"
"Damned right… I'll use it… if I have to…!" He laid the pistol on the double dresser.
She was cowed and he knew it. He went on, commandingly, "Turn over on your back… and spread those long legs of yours all the way out to the sides of the bed!"
Marcy hesitated for a split second; then as she saw his glowering face and heard the steely tone of his voice, she moved to obey him, turning her body and arranging herself in the way he directed. There was something in his forcefulness, his commanding way that ignited a spark of desire in her. She had never before been treated in this manner; always before, she, herself, had been the dominant one.
Now, she watched in fascination as Don unbuttoned his jeans, reached into his fly, and unsheathed his long, tumescent cock. It stood out, spearingly, from his loins, and she could see a few tufts of his pubic hair at the base of it. Wrapping a fist around its girth, he pulled the foreskin back to reveal the reddish-purple, blood-engorged head.
Suddenly, he was on the bed, still fully clothed, his boots mussing the bedclothes, as he wedged himself between her outspread legs. He used a hand to guide his throbbing prick into the soft, hair-fringed opening of her cunt. Then, with a forceful thrust of his strong, young hips, he drove the anger-hardened member deep up into her dry, and as yet, unwanting vagina.
She gasped with the pain and surprise of his vicious, unprepared intrusion. It felt to her as if a great, unpeeled log had been rammed into her.
"OOOoooh! Oh, God… D-Don! Th-That h-hurts!"
"Just lay there and take it, you bitch!" he grimaced.
Tears came to her eyes and rolled down her cheeks, as she realized his intentions. He was raping her… punishing her for the things she had done to him before.
Her thighs quivered and she felt them spread even more cruelly apart as his weight bore down on her forcing his huge, hardened rod of flesh deeper into her, searing her tender passage with hot pain. Her vaginal canal was being punished beyond reason; the huge cock invading her felt like hot, abrasive sandpaper as it went in ever deeper and deeper. Finally, the spongy head of his prick flicked her cervix and moved on past to lodge, solidly, against the farthest recess of her vaginal vault, and the rough material of his jeans, the buttons of his fly, smacked solidly up against the soft, resilient flesh of her sparsely hair-ringed pussy.
Moans of pain issued from her lips. She begged, "D-Don… p-please… not like th-this…"
He didn't hear her. There was only one thing he wanted to do, now. He was going to screw her like a fuck machine until she begged for mercy. I'll fix her! The little bitch! She's had this coming for a long time!
Then, not caring, not waiting for her natural lubrication, he withdrew until only the head of his lust-inflamed cock remained within her chafed, tender passage; with insane force he rammed it home in her, again and again, his prick a punishing cudgel in her inflamed passage.
Again, she groaned, aloud. This time, though, it was a groan of growing arousal… mixed with the terrible pain of his tormenting member as it pounded in and out of her tortured cuntal canal.
Finally, tiny droplets of viscous lubricant exuded from the walls of her vagina, and the pain became less and less, the penetration of his ravishing prick deeper and deeper; she felt as though she were being split asunder each time his loins, still fully clothed, slammed into her nakedly soft genitals.
Gritting his teeth against the chafing discomfort his precipitous entrance was causing him, also, Don fucked in and out of her, all his pentup fury concentrated in the punishing drubbing he was giving her. His hands gripped her body, squeezing her with sadistic force, then he dropped his body full upon her, taking a berrylike nipple in his mouth. He sucked on it until it grew and expanded, the areola puckering against his lips. Animalistic growls came from deep in his throat. Suddenly, he wanted to hurt her. He bit at the nipple and felt his teeth break the skin. His mouth was flooded with the salty taste of her blood.
"AAAAAaaaaaggggh!" Marcy screamed. "P-Please… Don… dooooon't…!"
His bite hurt her. Unexplainably, though, lightning sensations slashed at her. God! She had never had it like this! He's raping me… b-but I want him to… I-I want him to fuck me u-until… I can't stand it… anymore!
On every plunge Don made into her liquid, now muscularly contracting depths, he felt himself coming closer to his own orgasm. Actually, when he began his insane thrusting into her, he hadn't cared whether she came to a climax or not, but now he felt her response; her loins moved up to meet him, undulant, supple, her soft, warm cunt-mouth slithering up his rampaging shaft, clasping him in the ancient dance of love. God damn… she's hot… really fucking me back!
"Okay… doll… you ready?" he grunted.
Raising himself, he supported his weight on his hands and began to stroke into her deeper and faster, every plunging motion causing his lust-inflated cock to soar deep up into her belly, eliciting continuous moans of passion from her lips.
"Oh… OOh… OOOoooh! Don! Fuck m-me… hard… harder!"
There was nothing in the world for her now, except the awareness of his thundering prick as it worked smoothly in her now lust-inflamed cuntal passage.
She heard him panting, his breath raspy in his throat, and she knew that he was driving for his own orgasm… that he was making no attempt to satisfy her, too. She had a moment of panic. I won't be able t-to cum!
"Donnnn!" she wailed. "M-Make me cum… too! Shove your f-finger in my ass!"
He wondered why he hadn't thought of it.
"Okay… you asked for it, baby!" he panted.
Reaching down between their straining bodies, he searched her seething loins, running a finger, briefly, into the viscous moisture which trickled in tiny droplets from the portal of her vagina where his pistoning cock plummeted in and out of her. Then, finding the secret back passage she had pleaded with him to violate, he worked his finger into it to feel the spongy softness of her anal opening. He didn't work it in gradually; he thrust, cruelly, driving it into the tight working little mouth in one sudden plunging motion.
She screamed in masochistic agony. Her hips jerked back and down to escape the searing pain of it. Don didn't withdraw his finger, nor did he slacken his pace, as he realized that he had hurt her. That her scream had done something to him, he couldn't deny… then, incredibly, he felt her squirm her hips, undulating them… screwing them up on his finger to sheathe it completely with the soft clinging sponginess of her back passage.
Then, with both orifices of her loins filled, she began to feel it come to her, as he pounded her, unmercifully; she knew that she would have her release. It was all she wanted. It was everything to her, at that moment!
Wantonly, she crooned her need to him. "Oh, oh, oooh! Fuck me… Don! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck ME! FUCK ME!"
… Then… it was there! The exploding rapture wiped out everything else. She forgot the pain the fact of her being raped… almost. She soared to meet it. "AAAAaaaaauuugggggghhhhh Donnnnnn! IIII'mmmmm cuuuuummmmmmiiinngg!"
Her body convulsed under him, her legs jerking out to either side, her head rolling, uncontrollably. This is it! "AAAaaaauuugggghhhh!"
As she climaxed under him, Don jerked his finger from her anus. He heard it pop and hiss, slightly, and now, supporting himself on elbows and knees, he jackhammered his hard, still-expanding cock deep… deeper and faster into the hot, desperately milking depths of her satiated cunt.
He felt the acid, searing sensation of his ejaculation begin. It hosed from him in quick jets of white, hot, viscous sperm… and he slammed into her with one, final spine-jarring thrust to hold himself immobile while the soul-satisfying sensations swept over him. Time after time, his cock pumped, wildly, until at last he was drained and he collapsed on top of her.
Marcy's arms went around his spent body and she hugged him close to her entwined nakedness. She panted, "Oh… Don… i-it was super… wonderful!"
"Don't be stupid… Marcy! I didn't mean for it to be!" he mumbled. "I wanted to hurt you… you know… like punish you…"
"You d-did… but you made m-me cum… too!"
"Quite a show!" It was Ray Donahue who stood at the doorway watching them. "What's for an encore?"
Don came off the bed fast. He smelled danger, somehow. His rapidly deflating penis pulled from Marcy's pussy with a slight pop, as he rolled off the bed and dived for the.38 on the dresser.
A raucous laugh greeted his acrobatic performance. "Christ, Don… what's all that for?"
Then, he saw that Ray was not a danger; the tall youth merely stood in the door, nursing his wounded mouth and nose with a wet handkerchief. Don looked at him, sheepishly.
"Nothing… just jumpy…" he said, and put the.38 in his waistband.
"That's mine!" Ray said. "Give it back to me… and put your cock away… it looks kind of stupid flopping out of your pants like that!"
Don looked down, saw that he was right, and stuffed his flaccid member back into his pants. As he buttoned his fly, he said, "I'll give you fifty bucks for it."
"I don't want to sell it… I paid more than…" Ray stopped short, catching himself saying something he hadn't intended to say.
"That figures…!" Don shot back. He reached for his wallet, took out bills and thrust them at his erstwhile friend.
Ray wouldn't take the money from him, so Don stuffed the bills in the tall boy's shirt pocket. "Just for the record… Marcy saw me pay you… Okay?"
"Hell, Don… you don't have to make a big scene about it… it's just money!"
Don turned to Marcy, a hard, cynical smile on his face. "Now… Marcy… here's yours!" He flung a twenty-dollar bill at her. It fluttered through the air to land on her sperm-moistened pubic mound. She looked at it, stupidly.
"What's with you, Don? You're acting real weird, tonight!" she murmured, taking the bill in her hand, as she set up in the big bed.
"That's your price… isn't it? Then, that's what I'm paying!" he grunted. "… But, you're sure as hell not worth it!" He picked up his jacket and put it on.
Striding to the door to leave, he added, "Don't either of you say another word to anybody… about me and Charity!"
He left them staring after him, dumbfounded… nonplussed.