Chapter 13
LILA
Victor came to my work. I fucking knew he would; but grabbing me like that was a bad move, especially in front of Travis and Lee—they already knew he was a cheating piece of shit, but touching me when I’d asked him to leave was truly a stupid move on Victor’s part.
I knew I had to speak to him sooner or later, but at my work? No.
He had some nerve.
So, when I walked out of work and found this text message from him, I had to laugh.
Victor: Having me removed from your work like some kind of abuser? That’s fucking low.
My fingers flew across the screen before I could stop myself.
Lila: They know you’re a cheating scumbag, then saw your hands on me today and came to that conclusion themselves. Sign the papers Victor, and then we can talk.
I was trembling with rage. The fact was, I’d told work we were getting a divorce as he had cheated on me, and he might turn up. They asked if I wanted to see him and I said no, so they told me to call security if he turned up.
Which I did.
I shook my head and got in my car, slamming the door shut behind me.
My rage was getting worse. It had been like this since I’d received that fucking video, and it was growing in size. My fingers itched to scratch Victor or Cami’s eyes out—and fuck, did I want to do it.
Vanessa had told me how she’d shoved Cami’s head into a hand dryer, and boy, that cheered me up for a day or so, but I wanted to do something myself.
Vanessa had also told me where she worked, but if I went there, I’d cause a scene and probably get arrested.
But that bitch fucked my husband, and she had to pay. I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel as I drove home, half expecting to see Victor’s precious truck parked there.
But it wasn’t, thankfully.
I showered and dressed in dark clothes, my mind on overdrive.
Was I really going to do this?
Maybe I just wanted to see the bitch in the flesh. See what was so much better about her than me.
My stomach dropped at the thought, and when I got back in my car, I already had the bar’s address up on my phone. It was some strip bar downtown.
Great. Cheated on with a stripper. At least Victor was predictable.
I hummed along to the radio as I drove, the rage within me building as I recalled every second of the video of Cami fucking my husband.
I wanted to claw the images from my brain and burn them. Hot angry tears stung my eyes, and I scrubbed them away.
Fuck him. And fuck her.
Maybe once we were divorced, he would get with her. My heart plummeted at the thought, and I bit my lip to stifle the sob that tried to escape.
“No, Lila,” I said to myself, my voice scratchy and raw. “This is payback—tonight, everyone gets paid back.”
I nodded my head as I continued driving, a calmness sweeping over me as I smiled.
All I had to do was not get caught, but if I did?
Sacrifices had to be made.
I pulled into the parking lot and shook my head at the state of the sorry bar. Peeling paint and broken neon lights greeted my car's headlights, and glass crunched beneath my tires.
What a shithole.
More importantly, though, there were no cameras anywhere.
Excellent.
My phone beeped, and I quickly turned it to silent. I couldn’t be distracted. I glanced at the screen to see it was Vanessa.
Where are you? I’ve got wine!
I couldn’t tell her. She may be my best friend, but Victor was her brother after all. This had to be between me, him, and Cami.
Speaking of the bitch, my heart raced as she stepped outside in bright pink hot pants and heels, dragging a trash bag.
She was slender and tanned, but almost in a dirty way.
I watched the light rain spray her beneath the streetlight and I wished it was acid.
I got out of the car, my stomach churning as I approached her, taking in her thick dark hair and cheaply made-up face—with bruises on her forehead.
Probably from Vanessa.
Then she clocked my approach and jutted a thumb behind her.
“The entrance is over there, honey.” Such a sickly-sweet voice. And who the fuck was she calling honey?
“I’m looking for Cami,” I said, trying to control my fury.
She glanced back at me as she tossed the trash bag into the dumpster. She was toned everywhere—her body was phenomenal. No wonder my husband loved fucking her.
I remembered the video as she dusted her hands off—the same pink talons that had dragged down my husband’s chest—fuck!
“That’s me!” She gave a stupid laugh and rolled her eyes.
“Huh.” I stepped closer to her. “I expected more.”
Her eyes narrowed, the grin slipping from her lips. “Excuse fucking me?” The sweetness was gone, replaced by a snotty tone that made me want to punch her. “Who the fuck are you?”
“I don’t think you know me,” I replied, tilting my head. “But you’ve definitely heard of me.”
Cami stared at me, waving her hands around. “So, who are you?”
“Oh.” I smiled and straightened my shoulders before walking closer. My heart thumped in my ears as I drew my fist back, slamming it clean into her perfect nose, warm blood spraying over both of us as she staggered back, howling. “I’m Victor’s wife. I thought you should know.”
“My nose!” Cami screamed, holding it with both hands. “You fucking bitch!”
I waited for her to get to her feet, but she didn’t, her legs splayed out against the damp gravel, her cries filling the air. I stared down at her, and pulled my leg back without thinking, kicking her square in the pussy. The pussy my husband loved fucking so much.
Now she really screamed, and I knew my work was done.
“I’d say it was a pleasure to meet you,” I tossed over my shoulder. “But it really wasn’t.”
“I’m going to sue you! I’ll call the cops!” Cami screamed, on her knees now, like I was sure she had been for my husband so many times before.
One more kick in the pants maybe? Nah.
I strode back to my car, enjoying the exhilaration that ran through me at delivering some justice.
Now it was time to deliver some more.