Van Luten glared across the space between us. "And then... ?"I shrugged. "I killed him." That's it? You killed him?"I fixed my eyes on his and matched...his glare with one of my own. "How strong is your stomach, Mr. Van Luten? Do you want your wife and daughter to have those images burned into their memories? I don't want my girls hearing the details. Suffice it to say that he suffered. Not as much as he should have, or as much as he deserved, but as much as I could manage under the. She had a pair of cut-off denim jeans on with a blue polo shirt. I wore my only cut-offs too, they happen to be a pair of women's Guess jeans about size 10. Which is very tight on me, I might add. I was also wearing a pair of my usual, everyday thong panties. That went without saying these days. My old "tighty-whiteys" had long ago disappeared into some closet or drawer or box in the attic. I pulled on the longest polo shirt I had, which just barely went down to the cheeks of my ass. I. More

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