Chapter 32

           Lydiametmeattheairport.Shewashornyasusual."JesusChrist,"shesaid."I’mhot!Iplaywithmyselfbutitdoesn’tdoanygood."

           Weweredrivingbacktomyplace.

           "Lydia,mylegisstillinterribleshape.Ijustdon’tknowifIcanhandleitwiththisleg."

           "What?"

           "It’strue.Idon’tthinkIcanfuckwithmylegthewayitis."

           "Whatthehellgoodareyouthen?"

           "Well,Icanfryeggsanddomagictricks."

           "Don’tbefunny.I’maskingyou,whatthehellgoodareyou?"

           "Thelegwillheal.Ifitdoesn’tthey’llcutifoff.Bepatient."

           "Ifyouhadn’tbeendrunkyouwouldn’thavefallenandcutyourleg.It’salwaysthebottle!"

           "It’snotalwaysthebottle,Lydia.Wefuckabout4timesaweek.Formyagethat’sprettygood."

           "SometimesIthinkyoudon’tevenenjoyit."

           "Lydia,sexisn’teverything!Youareobsessed.ForChrist’ssake,giveitarest."

           "Arestuntilyourlegheals?HowamIgoingtomakeitmeanwhile?"

           "I’llplayScrabblewithyou."

           Lydiascreamed.Thecarbegantoswervealloverthestreet."YOUSON-OF-A-BITCH!I’LLKILLYOU!"

           Shecrossedthedoubleyellowlineathighspeed,directlyintooncomingtraffic.Hornssoundedandcarsscattered.Wedroveonagainsttheflowoftraffic,carsapproachinguspeelingofftotheleftandright.ThenjustasabruptlyLydiaswervedbackacrossthedoublelineintothelanewehadjustvacated.

           Wherearethepolice?Ithought.WhyisitthatwhenLydiadoessomethingthepolicebecomenonexistent?

           "Allright,"shesaid.

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