In her gut she had known it. She should learn to listen to her gut instead of her heart. Oh Christ, she said to herself, swallowing the rest of her margarita. Thirty-eight years old and the broad’s talking about trusting her heart. “Frank?” she called across to the bar. “Another one.” She held the empty glass up for the bartender to see. “Easy on the salt.” Frank nodded back at her. Two men on bar stools, who had looked over at the sound of her voice, said something to him and laughed. Frank smiled, saying nothing. One of the men looked over at her again and nudged the other, and they both laughed again. Frank wasn’t a bad guy, Mattie thought. At least he admitted he was married. Which hadn’t prevented Mattie from inviting Frank home once or twice after closing hours. Frank wasn’t like that bastard, Chris. Mattie twisted to look at herself in the mirror beside the booth. Not bad, she decided.
What do You think about The Man Who Murdered God (2015)?
