..but for what? I looked up at her, feeling very exposed and vulnerable. My eyes...his eyes...looked right into mine. There wasn't any anger inthem. N... confusion either.I felt myself take a step forward, drawn to him. The connection we sharedwith our gaze was magnetic. Before I new it I was next to the bed. He stood up then, making itpossible only to meet his gaze by looking up. Such a change from my world.To look up at one with my stature. I felt weak, small and insignificant.His hands rose. “I hope the sorry son of a bitch rots in hell. There’s a special place there for him, I’m sure.” Then she smiled. “Last time I saw him, he was bleeding like a stuck pig! I busted a bottle of Scotch over his head!” she said proudly. Shit! Remind me never to piss this lady off!I was silent for a moment. Time to change the subject. I looked over her outfit. Running shoes and sweat socks, biking shorts, a sports bra, and a leotard over the shorts and bra. “I hate biker’s shorts.”“You’d look great. More

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