Stardust Miracle Read Online Free Page B

wrapped around his erect penis.
    Becky put her hand over her mouth. She wanted to puke. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. But all she could do was stand there, a long, low moan ripping out of her throat. The sound of an animal in pain.
    “Becky.” Jim put his open hand on Diana’s head and shoved her away from him. Diana fell on her butt on the gray and blue striped rug that Becky had found for Jim four years ago at an estate sale in Wausau. Diana squealed as Jim grabbed his pants and stood.
    “It’s not what it seems.” Jim held his pants over his penis. As if Becky hadn’t seen it before.
    Becky welcomed a hot rush of whirling anger. No, not anger. Fury . She took a deep, shuddering breath. The excitement was gone. The moan gone. The feeling that she’d been stabbed in the heart... Gone.
    “You mean you weren’t getting a blow job?” she asked, and her voice only shook a little. She glanced at Diana, who was scrambling to her feet. Becky turned her head away and spotted Jim’s cell phone on his walnut desk. Instead of running out of the office, she crossed to the desk.
    “Please, Becky,” Jim said. “We can talk.”
    She heard the clink of his belt and without even thinking, as if something from above guided her, she picked up the cell phone, clicked on the camera, and whipped around, holding the phone like a weapon.
    “Becky, no!” Jim shouted, one foot raised to put inside his pants leg, his penis not erect anymore but not completely flaccid, hanging in a curve like a tired rubber hose. 
    Diana was bent over, reaching for her panties, her butt toward Becky, but at Jim’s shout she glanced behind her.
    Becky snapped the camera.
    “No!” Jim put his leg out to chase after her. Becky clicked the camera again, catching the surprise on his face when he realized his foot was half in the pants and he was falling. Diana twisted around, her clothes clasped over her breasts. Her pants legs hung down, covering her hairless pubic area.
    Too bad, Becky thought, snapping a photo of Diana. Her mind was oddly clear, as if this were an unpleasant dream instead of her life falling apart. She’d love to send the picture to the congregation newsletter list. Let everyone know that Diana had her pubic hair waxed off. Maybe last week while she was visiting her sister in Eau Claire.
    But at least she’d gotten the ass shot of Diana.
    Then Becky aimed down at Jim sprawled on the floor. As she pressed the camera button, his butt was coming up, so she had a good shot of the mole on his left cheek that was shaped like the state of Wisconsin.
    Now she had two ass shots. His and hers.
    When he raised his face, there was no more offered conciliation. Only fury. “You can’t fucking do this to me.”
    One more click and then Becky ran. Ran like she hadn’t since high school track. She left her shoes behind her. She had something much more important in her hands. The cell phone.
    She ran across the churchyard to their backyard as if the devil chased her. And she knew any second that would be true – the devil in the shape of her husband.
    Her mind was curiously empty. The rational part of her brain, the part that analyzed everything, told her she was still suffering from shock. It was too early to believe it really happened. As if she were in a dream state.
    Or maybe she was too filled with emotion to dig into it. An emotional volcano inside her simmering and ready to erupt. Only instead of hot, burning lava, she was stuffed with hot, burning grief. Hot, burning horror. Hot, burning anger. Tons and tons of anger.
    How dare they? How the hell dare they?
    No, how dare he ?
    A stone dug into her left sole but she kept running, her breaths huffing. The churchyard was longer than she’d thought, or she was more out of shape than she’d thought, and her opinion of her shape was already pretty low. Right now, lower than ever. 
    A tear came to her eyes and she blinked it away. Still running. Never stopping.
    Another tear tried