I felt it hit my stomach, and I felt better. A lot better. I drank some more. And a little more.After a few drinks, Nat took the bottle out of my hand, and led me over to the bed. She undid my shirt and pants, and laid me down on the bed. She had only been wearing panties, herself. I hadn't noticed. I guess I needed the drink too badly to notice that.I can't imagine how you don't notice, even if you're unconscious. She was a little Mexican knock-out. Great ass, thin waist, nice boobs, cute face. Nice luscious black hair, worn long.She lay down next to me and cuddled me. I felt tears dripping on me. That felt bad, so I let the alcohol take over the situation. I became lost in thought.It hadn't always been like this. Once it hadn't been anything like this at all. I started out from College with a BSBA, and started a small flea market business selling Gyro's and the like from a food stand. We started out selling at Willingboro, then moved out to Tacony-Palmyra, to Cowtown, and. Nicki checked. Every state has the same law. No tattoos until you are eighteen." She borrowed my license, too. I didn't know." Why? Why would she ... why would she mutilate herself?" Brian, listen! The tattoo is on her foot. Right below her toes. It's just words." Her toes?" God! This hurt. "What does it say?" It says, 'No matter what, I know he still loves me.'"It took several minutes before I realized that the piercing wail I heard that wouldn't shut up was coming from my mouth. I was being held from all sides. Mom, Anna, Donna, Rose. Dad was still on the phone, not quite shouting, but very intense. Mr. Duval and Mr. Davis were standing with him. I was hyperventilating. I didn't pass out. People seemed to be scurrying all over everyplace.She believed me. Her last words to me had been 'God bless you, Brian. I love you.' Did she truly believe she had to be with the asshole who beat her? But she believed me. She believed I still loved her.Did I?What a stupid question. I'd do anything.
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