Scars

Part 32

Nichole's POV:

"Get your fucking asses over here!  Now", I yelled through the phone on a three way call to Alyssa  and Anthony.

"Why?", Alyssa asked.  "What did we do now?"

"It's what you mother fuckers DIDN'T do!", I yelled.   "That's what!"

"What didn't we do?", Anthony asked.

"Just shut the fuck up, Anthony!  And get your fucking asses over here!", I yelled, completely pissed off.

"Ohhh nooo... I'm not coming over there if all you're gonna do is yell at me", Alyssa said.

And just then I nearly exploded.  "You'll get the fuck over here right now, Alyssa!  Or I'll fucking come over there and beat your fucking ass!", I yelled, as I hung up on them and slammed my phone down.

And why was I upset?  Why was I pissed the fuck off?  For multiple reasons.  One was because Anthony, who was the world's biggest procrastinator, only second to Alyssa, still hadn't given me the contact information for that piece of shit that had sexually assaulted Alexis. Like he said he would.  Weeks ago.

But the biggest reason was, I had just realized something very disturbing.  Something that I hadn't realized until right now.  Alexis was pregnant at the time of the assault.  And that just wasn't acceptable.  At all.  So everyone that was to blame in anyway was now going to be hearing from me.  That piece of shit, Andrew.  And Alyssa and Anthony too.  Because again, those two practically stood by and allowed it to happen. 

And a few minutes later, just as expected, there was a knock on my door.  I opened it, knowing exactly who it was.

"It's about fucking time", I said, glaring at them, completely angry and not in the mood for small talk. 

They came in and I shut the door behind them.  

"What's your fucking problem?", Alyssa asked, obviously not liking the way I was talking to them.  But I didn't care.  Because after what they did, or I should say, didn't do, I was going to talk to them any fucking way I wanted to.

"The fucking problem is you!", I yelled at both of them.

"What did we do?", Anthony asked, playing stupid.

"Don't play stupid with me Anthony!  It's what you didn't do!  You were supposed to get me the contact information for that asshole who assaulted my wife!  And to organize a little meeting with him. And I have yet to see any of that happening!"

"I'm working on it."

"Well work on it a little fucking harder, Anthony!"

"Alright, alright.  I'll get it done."

"When?", I asked, staring directly at him, with my arms crossed.

"I don't know.  Soon."

"No.  Not soon.  Right now."

"Alright, alright... I'll find out right now", he said, reaching for his phone and sending a text.  "I texted my friend that was at the bar that night.  He's friends with Andrew.  So he should be able to tell me."

And a few minutes later, he got a return text.  "Ok.  I got it", he said.

I looked at him in disbelief.  "That's it?  That's all you had to do?  Was just send a text?"

"Well yeah."

"Well why the fuck didn't you do that before when I asked you weeks ago?!"

"I don't know.  I'm sorry."