I woke up with a concussion, a head wound, and wife who isn’t herself. Par for the course, these days it seems, and just a few things that kept me from getting the dead girl in the back of my trunk situation handled before dawn the way I’d planned. Also, we’re fighting again, and I’m pretty sure you’re losing your mind.
Plus, I know you aren’t being completely honest about what that cop did to you. I know by the way you flinched as I ran my hand up your thigh, and I swear to God, Kate, just as soon as I dispose of the dead girl in my trunk, I will deal with that motherfucker in a way that will make him wish he’d never seen the likes of me—or laid a finger on you.
I guess it makes sense that after what happened last night, you would be off your game a little. But that doesn’t explain the
