‘Do you still have the card?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Did you get your reward?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Why did you call?’ ‘I want to know why all this is happe...ing. I want to share with you.’ I was thinking that might sweeten the pot and he would explain just what the fuck had happened. ‘If you wish. I will be there.’ He hung up. I went to the bank, filled a briefcase with cash, all I could think to do. For some reason I dropped the plastic folder with the business card inside. I drove by the park that evening, the old man. “Be ready, we’re going to Slanted Door tonight,” he texted.I dressed to kill in a little black dress and heels. Nothing else but makeup. Matthew got home at nine.“On the bed. Hands and knees,” he said.“What? No hello?” I’d grown accustomed enough to being pushed around to have fun with it.“Do it!” he said, his anger flaring. Quivering inside, but not afraid, I did what he commanded. He produced a curious black cardboard box. From it he pulled out this weird bulbous pink rubber thing.“What is. More

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