Boyfriend. Part 10

“How about it babe” he said as he worked it; “Think you can take it?”

“I don’t think I can take it all, but maybe I could if it was two inches shorter” and her hand came out of her purse. The ‘snick’ of the spring-loaded switchblade knife opening hadn’t even faded when two things happened. The first was that the guy was already five feet away and running as if his life depended on getting the hell away from Constance (which in a way I suppose it did) and the second thing was the thought that instantly entered my mind.

“No way she needs me around for protection! Something ain’t right here Bobby; something ain’t right at all.”

I was standing there staring at Constance and she shrugged and put the knife away. As she did it I noticed a lanyard hanging from the end of it and hanging from the lanyard was a little black cylinder which I recognized. I’d bought one for Amber way back when. It was a spray tube of Mace. Yes indeed Bobby; there was something rotten in Denmark.