Page 46 of The Reluctant Hero

“Nah, the bar is setreallylow on that one. He just had to lift his foot about half an inch to make it over. I think he fell asleep during, but I was having too many orgasms to pay much attention. It was all about me. Such a novel experience.”

It’s like the sarcasm isn’t computing for him. His face has gone red with rage, and I don’t get why. He’s had more women than I’ve had pairs of socks at this point. What does he care if I get my rocks off with some made-up guy?

“You’re going to get caught,” he tells me darkly. “How is it going to feel when I take you to court for infidelity?”

My humor comes to a screeching halt, and my eyes widen. “Are you telling me that if I get caught with another guy, you’ll divorce me?”

“You aremine, Amanda,” he says in a low tone that sounds totally serious.

“Fuck that. I’m screwing every man in this building and taking out an ad in the paper. Social media? There’s so many ways I could do this.”

A sharp grunt comes from my apartment. Then, the thump of something hitting the wall. I’m too dazed with the possibilities stretching out in front of me to care.

“You have lost your mind.”

“Shut up, I’m planning over here,” I mutter, my attention shot. “I could write up a petition and have them sign it after.”

He’s suddenly right in front of me, and I blink in surprise.

“You’re making a mistake,” Loser says flatly. The look in his eyes should scare me, but I’m too high on hope to let it sink in.

“The only mistake I ever made was marryingyou.”

His hand rears back to slap me, and I stand still for it, not in surprise but in defiance. Let him smack me. The bruising will be pretty compelling, and the blue-haired chick might be a great witness. If I can get her to testify.

Before he can complete the swing, a hand has gripped his wrist, stopping him easily.

I blink at the blue nails on the feminine hand in amazement. This is a fully grown man, and he had a lot of force going. And she stopped him. Easily. How?

Loser looks at his arm in surprise, struggling a bit. He can’t even move his arm.

She flings the appendage down, and Loser steps back, seeming shocked to see her. Her eyes are locked on his without a sign of expression. I’ll admit it’s creepy, but all I can do is stand in awe of her.

Her toxic personal space bubble has Loser backing away quickly. Her boyfriend is wearing sunglasses inside again, but his lack of reaction seems to frighten Loser even more.

“We’ll talk later,” he calls over his shoulder as he hurries away.

I’m gaping when she turns to me and says in a raspy monotone filled with heavy breaths, “Have you considered being a widow?”

“Of course,” I frown at her. “But the wife is the first suspect. Has no one ever watched a murder doc?”

She blinks slowly as her head tilts. “You watch them too?”

“Who the fuck doesn’t? The utter stupidity is captivating.”

Her eyes widen the smallest amount. “You watch to see how they could be that stupid?”

“Don’t you?” I raise an eyebrow. I know they’re dramatizations, but they always make the cops seem so oblivious. It doesn’t do the police force justice, which is appalling, but I can’t help yelling at the TV about all the clues they missed in the beginning.

“I do,” she admits quietly like it’s a revelation.

“Hold that thought,” I shake a finger around and spin to slap a palm on the door. “Open up, Manny! Petty vengeance will bemine!”

The deadbolt slides back, and the door opens to reveal Manny’s gaunt face.

“It would have been safer out there.”

“Move it,” I pull him out of my way by his arm.

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