Electric Impulse

chapter 44 | without warning

You should break up his little party. Go in there and let him have it!

I can't do that. I don't know what I'm getting into. What is this place?

Now you're asking the right questions.

I get up and look around for a name, an address, something to tell me where I am. The momentary distraction is more than welcome. I walk around the entire building before getting an address.

Taking the information back to my car, I Google it on my phone. When I finally get reception bars on my phone, I can't believe the search results. Two words leap off the screen and punch me in the face.

SWING CLUB.

Swing Club? As in, Swing Club? As in swapping partners? As in having sex with other people?

"No! This can't be. He wouldn't."

I re-type the address and hit search. Sure enough, their website is first in the results. I click on it and look for the address on their site.

God damn it!

It's a match. This is the place! Players Paradise. As I'm reading through the First Visit page, things are starting to make sense. There are no lines because you must be on a guest list to get in. So, Phoenix planned this in advance. This isn't a first-time thing.

I click on the Club Dues page. It mentions that most patrons pay a monthly fee and are members. VIP members get special privileges. I remember the card I saw in his seat.

I scan the Home page and stop at the paragraph titled, STD Awareness. It gives advice on places to go for testing and self-righteously preaches the importance of knowing one's status. Before that paragraph, the thought of STDs hadn't even crossed my mind. Now, it's all I can think about. We did exchange test results and he came back clean but that was before I found out about this.

He's been doing this for a while. Probably the whole time you've been together, maybe longer.

The selfishness.

The recklessness.

The carelessness.

Red is all I see.

Unbelievable!

"I'm going to KILL you, Phoenix!" I yell at the top of my lungs, in the car. "You're in there having sex, you lying sack of shit! You're dead!" I take a bat out of my trunk and make a beeline straight for his expensive pimped-out sports car, but I'm halted when I see him and his drunk companion stumble out of Players Paradise.

"THIS is why you left me tonight?" I point at the club, shouting at Phoenix in an out of control rage.

Obviously on cloud nine, he looks at me with a startled, drunken grin and mumbles, "Ari? What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here? You drunk, lying, son-of-a-bitch? How could you do this to me? So, this is where you go when I don't hear from you?"

"Ari . . . you're messing up. This is . . . a job . . . money. You shouldn't . . . ." He pats his pockets, sloppily searching for his keys.

"And who is she?" I ask enraged at the fact that there is a "she" to refer to.

"Huh? Who's she?" The woman asks in a deep slur. Her expression goes from blissfully drunk to completely confused.

"Just . . . get in . . . ." Phoenix fumbles with his keys, presses the key fob and unlocks the Viper.

The lady struggles to open the door.