Page 423 - Some Dance to Remember

Some Dance to Remember 393

Logan left him naked and cold, choking, wet, unable to move on the
floor of the barn.
Twenty minutes later, Logan, his new truck, the pink slip in his name
only, the duffle with everything he owned, and some of what Ryan owned,
roared down and out the drive of Bar Nada.

6

“I want them dead,” Ryan said. He had not gone back to the Victorian
from Bar Nada. He holed up at Solly’s penthouse. “Kick called Logan,” he
said. “Kick set me up. Kick might as well have raped me himself. I want
them both dead. I want them to die in great pain.”
Solly was nonchalant. “Is that all there is to a rape?”
“It should happen to you,” Ryan said.
“It did,” Solly said. “I’ll always have Beirut.”
“You said they didn’t rape you.”
“I lied.”
“Life’s different,” Ryan said, “after you’ve been raped.”
“You are sounding,” Kweenie said, “very like a feminist.” She pulled a
copy of the Manifesto from Solly’s bookshelves. She threw it on the couch.
“Eat your words.”
“Touché!” Ryan said.
“What offended you more?” Solly said. “Getting fucked over or get-
ting called pussy and cunt?”
The smoulder in Ryan’s face turned to fire.
“Just checking!” Solly said.
Ryan sat up slowly on the couch where he lay. His butt was sore. His
right eye was black. His face was bruised. “Kick not only lied to me. He
lied to Logan too. He told Logan that we never had sex.”
“Did you have sex?” Kweenie asked.
Ryan glared at her.
“Just checking,” she said.
“What do you mean, did we? Of course, we did. What do you think
this is all about?”
“Get over it,” Solly said.
Ryan put his hand to the six stitches in his puffed lip. “He shouldn’t
have hit my face.”
“Poor baby,” Kweenie said.
“It’s not over till it’s over,” Ryan said.
“It’s finished,” Kweenie said.

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