Blackie was quite pleased with himself for what he called his “Stay In School, Kids!” Public Service Announcement, but now that the threat was passed, I was furious.

Not just any furious; bitch wife furious.

“What the hell, Blackie,” I snapped at him, stuffing my tits back into my bra. “I could have been raped, we could have been hurt, robbed or killed–”

I was met with Blackie’s uproarious laughter, but continued my tirade anyway. “Hey, two nicely dressed business folks from out of town gettin’ down in an alley? What easy marks–”

“Get over it, Pinkie, they were kids.”

“And so then you decide to give them a lewd show? A misogynistic sex show?!”

“Oh come on now,” he laughed. Then after a brief pause during which I fumed, he said, “You loved it, you slut.”

My fear had already turned to anger, but his accusation made me get really angry. “You’re an ass,” was all I spat at him, riding in silence the rest of the way to our hotel.

At the hotel, I sailed past him in an Ice Princess freeze-out, heading to our room. Sure, he was just a few strides behind me, but I was smug in the knowledge that he was forced to walk in my icy wake.

Once I got into the hotel room, I kicked my shoes off and headed for the bathroom — but before I could get there, Blackie grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked me onto the bed. Before I could even gasp, he had me on my back and was on top of me, forcefully ramming his knee between my legs, hiking my skirt up, ripping my blouse open. Even though my clothes were technically on, all my sweet spots were exposed.