“Give it to me now!” she said angrily.
Even as a young girl in Granada, she was a demanding and self-centered female that was hard to handle; now decades later in San Juan del Sur, she was a cruel and sadistic woman. He smiled to himself and shook his head in disbelief. “Tell me the truth and only the truth and then maybe I’ll think about giving it to you.”
The light of the full moon was slowly vanishing like the power she once had over him. How life could change directions unexpectedly like a tornado. Things were changing so quickly for them in that upstairs backroom. She looked at her watched and sighed deeply.
“Ten minutes more,” he yelled at her. Her eyes pierced the distance between them to say what they both thought — there was no way they could unwind themselves from each other, no matter how much they yelled. He smacked the table and quickly looked away. “I won’t give you any more time than that. Ten minutes. So, sit down and start the recorder.”
“Why are you angry with me?” she said softly and sweetly. She touched his hand and looked at him with helplessly but seductively eyes. “Don’t you remember what we had?”
He looked down at her hand, with its perfectly manicured pink nails. It was soft just like he remembered. “Yes, I remember exactly what we had– lies and more lies.” He flipped her hand off of his. He moved across the table from her and looked directly into her eyes. With his hands pressing into the table, he spit on in the cup directly in front of her. “Don’t play anymore games with me. Tell me the truth and tell it to me now!”
She shoved the table into him. “Just kill me! Kill me now!” she yelled, drooling at the mouth. He wiped her drool away with his bare hand and smeared it on the table.
“Of course, I’ll kill you. But first we must kill our love with the truth.”