I’m back at the sucker’s home. My eyes feel heavy. That’s because they are swollen. He is clean. By clean I mean he doesn’t have the virus. How can he not get it when he sleeps with different women every week?
He is a kinky pervert who can bang anything with a skirt. He doesn’t have taste in women. He just f***s everything. I bet he has raped half of the women in this state because he is a monster.
I look at my ringing phone and shut my eyes ignoring the call. It’s Harley and I don’t know what to say to him. I have lost count of how many voice mail messages he has sent. I don’t feel like talking to anyone. Even the man I love.
I lay my head on the headrest and change the channel. I’m in the TV room and the asshole is not back from his prostitution.
I hear the door open and flinch. Why
