There usually a good crowd after 9pm. I was wearing some simple tan cargo pants. A long white button down shirt. I pulled up the long sleeves. I c...hanged shoes after work. Now I just had some white canvas tennis shoes. I was not wearing under wear or socks. I left them in my office. I checked my watch as I walked into the small bar. The place was half full. I took a seat at the end of the bar. I ordered a beer. I then looked around. I saw a few girls walking around the bar. There. His eyes clear. This didn’t look like the face of a man who had just raped a woman. There was no guilt or regret or remorse on his face. He looked like a man who had done what needed to be done. Max put his hand under my chin and tilted my head up to him. He looked me straight in the eye and then ever so gently kissed me. I thought of everything that had happened and I kissed him back. ‘Why did you wait so long to come for me?’ ‘I wanted to give you some time to realise some things for. He threatened to kill me, and all my friends? ‘I don’t suppose you can prove all this?’ he asked. ‘Mike set up a little show and tell,’ I demanded. ‘My pleasure Maxine,’ Mike said as he sat his laptop on the folding card table. First he set up the video of Thomas Atwood slapping me hard across the face. Then there was the close up of the blood on my face. He kept the camera running while I kicked the shit out of Atwood. A couple of adjustments and it was Blain Atwood telling me how he. So she always slept by herself. Every night I would come home and see her just laying on the couch wearing very sexy little shorts not covering much of anything and a tank top. I always wanted to just lay down next to her and just start kissing her and feeling every part of her temple. But I had always put the thought right back in my head and went to sleep. Until one night... I had come home very late from a friends house. Knowing my father was working until the early morning. So that gave me.