But how could that be? She always claimed to love me, so how could she be telling that ‘me’ how much she loved him and how she didn’t want to see him in prison. Man! I was confused.
By now the Asshole was lying limp with his balls, what I could still see of them, still covered by that other ‘Me’s hand and he was twisting and tugging on them like he was trying to pull his balls off. That’s when this silly thought crossed my mind, ‘He’s gonn’a have a bad case of blue balls’.
Then the buzzing in my head as fading and I realized it was my hand on Asshole’s nut sack. Was I really the one doing all that to him? Hell, I hoped I was–it’d be the first time I ever stood up for myself and it felt damn good!
Then I realized the wailing I’d been hearing wasn’t in my head at all, it was sirens, probably police sirens, and they sounded like they were winding down right in front of my house. And Pat was staring into my eyes and shaking me, trying desperately to get something across to me.
“Listen to me Al and do what I tell you, if you don’t want’a spend the next five years locked up. When they get in here all you know is you caught him raping me, then you blacked out. I’ll do the rest of the talking.”
“Open up! Police!” There was a loud banging and while Pat took her time going to open the door I got off the bed, straightened my clothes up as best I could and took a seat in the chair against the wall.
“Back this way, officers; back to the bedroom.” I could hear Pat as she led the way to where I was sitting. The room exploded with activity; first to para-medics, with their equipment, followed by a detective and a deputy sheriff, who I recognized as Detective Boone and Deputy Devanski, or ‘Ski’ to almost everyone who had any dealing with him.
Nobody asked me anything at first. Detective Boone and Deputy Ski took a bunch of pictures while the Medics were busy checking Asshole out. He must have not been too bad because while they were loading him onto the gurney, he started cussing and swearing about what he was going to do to me.
“I’d say he’s gonn’a make it.” One Medic said to no one in particular.
“Yeah,” his partner agreed, as they wheeled him out the room, “but if I’m any judge of it, I don’t think he’s gonn’a be doing what he was obviously doing here, any time soon–if ever.”
“Sorry folks, but I’ll have to take you down to the station for your statements. Pat, you might should get dressed; Al, you’re okay, if you’re comfortable.” Boone gave me a pat on the shoulder as he walked over to sit and wait for Pat to dress.
I thought I might have pulled the lucky card when I saw Boone and Ski walk in–now I was sure of it. Boone had caught his wife in his bed with another cop about three years ago and after she finished crying and lying in court the ‘injustice’ system had took him to the cleaners. Last year Ski had caught his wife fucking her boss and he’d stayed with her for the sake of their small children, so I was pretty sure I’d get fair treatment as far as the police was concerned.