The Sweet Stench Of Revenge — Part 8.

Find Part 1 here — https://fionadobson22.medium.com/the-sweet-stench-of-revenge-part-1-65e61f065bcf

You’ll remember I had left Dillon McKlusky in the restaurant and gone to the washroom. He was frantically looking at texts coming in to his phone, and he was sweating bullets.

After fixing my makeup in the washroom, and chuckling to myself, thinking what McKlusky’s wife might be venting at her revolting husband, I paused a while before returning. The moment seemed almost too good to hurry. Instead I wanted to savor it. The pictures of McKlusky being blown by a man had be sent to his wife’s phone a few minutes earlier. As I walked back into the dinning room the doors to the street were swinging, someone having hurried out.

I guessed that McKlusky had stormed off. He was certainly nowhere to be seen. The waiter came up to the table as I sat down.

“Your friend took off,” he said doubtfully.

“It’s ok. I’ll have the bill now, please.” I maintained my calm demeanor. I think that’s so important, don’t you? I was calm on the outside, but inside my head I was soaring above the night clouds. I was giving McKlusky the kind…