Bad Sex by Clancy Martin

Author:Clancy Martin [Martin, Clancy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780991360819
Publisher: Tyrant Books

THIRTY-THREE

I WAS BACK IN MEXICO CITY AT THE UNIVERSITY library working on my new novel. Sitting at the computer, I could feel that I hadn’t been writing in a long time. But I had energy from being sad and being angry. It was coming back fast.

“That’s your phone ringing,” the librarian said. “Señora? Señora Ramsey? That’s your phone.”

I jumped up, answered the call and headed for the stacks to talk, thinking it was Eduard.

It was Paul. He was talking very quickly. He said, “Have you been talking to Eduard? About a new contract? Has Eduard been calling you about business? Is there some deal we’re doing with Eduard that I don’t know about? Is there a problem?” He was reaching for any possibility. “Your cellphone bill is almost six hundred dollars. It’s all calls to Eduard’s number.”

“I’m coming home.” I hung up.

When I got there he was at the gate, smoking. He had the phone bill in his hands. It was the first time I had seen him smoking since he quit four years before, when the doctor told him that the boys’ allergies might be caused by secondhand smoke.

I got out of the car. He threw the phone bill at me. The pages flew up, fell down.

“Get the fuck out of here.”

“Paul.”

“I’m taking the boys to San Salvador while you move out. Then I’m going to divorce you. Then I’m going to kill that greasy motherfucker. Then I’ll put him out of business. Then I’ll destroy his reputation. He’s not the only one with friends in this country. I know what kind of deals he’s doing. ‘Banking.’ Banking my ass. He’s a money launderer. He’s a fucking vacuum cleaner.”

“Paul.”

“Do you realize he’s borrowed on every one of his properties from half a dozen different banks? That’s illegal, Brett. It’s called pyramid financing. Do you even know where his money comes from?”

“I love you, Paul.”

“He’s a fucking drug dealer. He’s a glorified drug dealer. He cleans drug money for a living.”

“Paul, it’s not what you think. I don’t care about him. It’s over. It means nothing.”

“Do you know how many women he fucks? Do you know how many women he’s fucked in the past month? Do you know how many times he’s tried to get me to go to a whorehouse?”

The fight continued inside. I was glad he let me in. The boys hid from us. It went on for more than two hours the same way. Paul planned to leave in the morning, but he agreed to let me spend the night. I went to sleep on the far side of my side of the bed, but I reached out with a foot to touch his leg. He let it rest there. I thought, This is a hopeful sign.

I woke to shouting. “Look at this, you slut!”

“What?” The room was dark and I was still asleep.

“You whore!” He threw my cellphone, and it shattered on the wall. I climbed out of bed to get it but he beat me there.

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